Wednesday, February 3, 2010

this is why they don't let me near famous people


Dear Omar Rodriguez lopez.

i've spent the last 10 minutes on google image and i've come to the conclusion that:

i think i'm in love with you. and i know i'll look like a blimp standing next to you because you're like a stick and i have broad shoulders but i don't care.
you're so effing rad.
and i want to build a nest of love in your sick afro. or i would think you wouldn't like that most probably because you're intimidating like that. so maybe i'll just touch it while you're asleep.

also.
if you agree to marry me. i will never talk ever again, a selective mute will i be. i promise. because for sure everything that comes out of my mouth
will confuse and or scare you.
i promise not to touch your guitars because i will probably break them. for that matter, i wont touch anything musical belonging to you for i will probably turn it into something autotune or donny osmond.
and i won't look cedric in the eye because i've convinced myself that he will one day get so angry at me that he will run after me screaming all high pitch. then i'll start crying and you'll be all "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" but in spanish because in my head. that's the only language you speak.

Our children will look like a mixture of porcelain doll and speedy gonzalez. with glasses and afros (regardless of sex)and sick full on plaid polyester suits. or like maybe eggplant. or ou ou ou!! burgundy!


ps. i also like mars volta and at-the drive in so. i mean. its not like i just go on google image and then propose to just anyone.

plus you're rich so yeah.
i'm a history major and unless there's another world war prompting an insatiable need for history book writing..we'll be registered at the bay and standa.

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