I may have spoken too soon. Yesterday, I spoke with adulation and praise for FP JR, and I meant it. However, this was before I went to the gas station. This was before I met the man of my dreams, while filling my white soccer mama car with premium gasoline. This was before I completely humiliated myself twice... in his presence. This is before I learned that I may be destined to become a rhinestone cow girl. Be still my beating heart. Back off ladies,this guy is mine. I have a gigantic crush on a cowboy named Shane. AAAAAHHHH! He is soooo dreamy. I feel like a tween who has just been swept off her feet and into into Twilight's Edward's arms, or the Jonas Brothers groupie van or Zac Efron's existence. Shane, if you are somehow reading this... I love you and definitely want to have at least seventeen of your babies. You interested? I am.
On another note: FP JR hates the picture I posted of him in yesterday's monologue. He thinks he looks to be a little light in the loafers. I told him I had not fixed it in photoshop yet... and that I would do that, eventually. I don't know what he dislikes more... the photo that I posted or the fact that I (occasionally) photoshop his mug. Relax, Kiddo. I only have eyes for you. (and Shane, the dreamboat cowboy)
Off to bask in the ever flattering sunlight of a teenage crush. I promise I will fill you in on the entire event's unfolding at a later date. For now, I will dream of life in the country with my cowboy, Shane... the epitome of all Malboro men. More accurately, the epitome of all men in a MaryKate world.
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