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Droolburger
05 October 2008 @ 18:17
This Week: Supernatural (Because we know what's important in life).

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Never change Steph, never change.

 
 
Current Mood: confusedconfused
 
 
Droolburger
19 September 2008 @ 01:22

This is for you, Stephanie Martins.
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Current Mood: artisticartistic
 
 
 
Droolburger
16 November 2007 @ 21:26
Dear Stephanopolis Bigboobs,

You are going to the deepest, darkest, most dangerous jungle of the modern world. By jungle I mean Scotland.

Oh Stephanie, my beating heart will never cease. Think of me every time you sit down to your dinner of haggis and deep-fried mars bar*. Weep when you remember all the good timeswe had talking about gay incest between demon hunters; the Petrellis; and the general unrequited love between baldies and superheroes. Cringe (omg, so mizz) when you remember every time we came into contact with alcohol (the worst culprit, gin?).

Here are some fun times to remember:
  • that time when 66.6% of your ex-boyfriends had turned gay.

  • and the other 33.3% was Leon.

  • that time that you took photos of me, Jade and Deepali pretending to be condoms on my trampoline.

  • that time we used to hang out with James.

  • all the times you bleached your hair into oblivion.

  • talking about the shoebox project like it was a second religion/the answer to all our prayers.

  • possibly forgetting the real harry potter books weren't fanfiction of the shoebox project (although this may have been just me).

  • when I was Sandy Claws in the Nightmare Before Christmas.

  • when I was Ed the hyena in the Lion King.

  • When you were that dog in NBC, and then emerald had to pull the sleigh over. The cardboard sleigh.

  • when Dumbledore came out of the closet. Homeboy was too fierce to be straight.

  • when you and James got married.

  • Rhys, in general.

  • When we were the only two people slow dancing at the prom (too much vodka)

  • that time when you got confused between a girl dressed as Nick Carter and actual Nick Carter.

So I shall stand on my fisherman's wife's galley, howling my sorrow at the cold harsh night. I will bravely wait for my sailor to return from the war with a 6 year-old and a vacuum cleaner.

I might come and visit you in ALASKA** because it will get awfully cold and boring and life will be hopeless, pointless, and ultimately fruitless without you.

Your stalker,
Sallopholis smallerboobs.

*Can you bring me one of those back, plz?
** Possible exaggeration
 
 
Current Location: howling at the moon
Current Mood: discontentdiscontent