My inner gay teenage boy is absolutely in lurv with Kurt. He wants to snurggle by a fire and listen to Liza while donned solely in Dior grey cashmere. Seriously. Glee needs to put the Rachel and Finn Variety Hour on pause and give the Kurt One Man Show a try. Want to know why New Directions (Ever hear that phonetically? nood-er-ec-shons. Dirty.) didn’t win Regionals? Because they didn’t let Kurt sing. He was totally silent. Uncool. Did they not catch his rendition of Rose’s Turn? Big big winner.
Yes, from So You Think You Can Dance. Yes, he’s 18. Yes, he’s a complete goofball from Nowheresville, USA. Do I lurv him? …..yes. I mean, I just wanna ball him up and stuff him in my pocket. And after this week. Man. (See below. Watch. Fall in lurv. Continue reading.) I just wanna go back in time to where I was 18 so it’s ok for me to swoon this much. It’s not healthy for a grown woman to want to go to prom with Kent. But I do. I’d live in Wapakoneta. Ohio seems cool. It’s fine! Oh precious…
Um, yeah. He’s a blogger. He recaps the Bachelor, Bachelorette (which I haven’t watched all season, but feel like I have because I continue to read his blog…) and (when it was still a reality) More to Love. And he is wonderful. Witty and funny and chock full of grammar knowledge. Apparently what attracts me to a man is a hearty vocabulary. No idea what he looks like, how old he is or if he actually lives in Austin. His first name might be Dennis. I lurv him a little bit.
And on the opposite end of the spectrum…We have Top Chef Kevin Sbraga.
He’s just got this weird baby-man-face and it freaks me out. I don’t like it. Plus I think it’s time for him to pack his knives and go. His presence is just excessive. He reminds me too much of creepy squishy-faced Miguel from the first season. I can’t trust a man whose eyes get lost in his cheeks. Freaky.
Oh, and in the spirit of Fashion Fail Friday…I saw a woman in Rocket Dog flip flops yesterday. Ya know. The chunky ones. Popular circa 1999. Worn by the cool chick in Napoleon Dynamite. There’s no place for that much foam rubber in casual footwear. Buhhhh.