"Thank God, this can’t end soon enough. Frankly, I just can’t take it anymore. The Competition? Oh, who gives a fu@k bout that! I’m all asses and elbows over this pathetic schoolgirl crush I have on David Cook, and it has simply got to STOP. Please, somebody get this lava-licious, smokin spicy hot tasty treat off my TV screen, and I mean Pronto! Seriously… It’s just embarrassing. Humiliating, even.
How in the hell did this happen? First, you need to know that I simply Do Not crush. Not only am I diametrically opposed to anything remotely resembling Fangirl stupor, but I like to think I’m rather above such disdainful acts (being a Legend in my own mind and all - oh, don't hate me cuz I'm bootiful). I am, in fact, quite vigilant about keeping armed sentries at the gate 24/7 – so imagine my outright surprise and righteous indignation when I find this audacious interloper tunneling under the moat, a deceptive act of grand mal proportions, an act SO blatantly offensive, that it can only be punished by… giving him the keys to the fu@king castle?! Oh, hell yeah, I know that’s right.
Me thinks I’ve been snookered and it went down something like this: Loved, Loved, Loved his voice at the audition and decided right then and there I was hitching my wagon to his train cuz, by Gawd, this was somebody I’d pay to listen to. It didn’t matter that he had a somewhat doughy body, a red-streaked feaux-hawk, and was wearing a goofy Blake Lewis Sweater Vest cuz I was buyin the voice, not the look. But then, damned if he didn’t whip out the “Hello” and turn all Rock Star on me… Who goes from bordering on the edge of Fugly (true story) to Burning with the Heat of a Thousand Blazing Suns (truer story) in, like, three performances? Seriously, who the hell does that?! ! Oh, yes, it was The Beginning of The End, and that damned Cookie has from thence forward been on a relentless quest for total female domination. It’s really criminal, is what it is – material misrepresentation at the very least, felonious fraud at the worst. I feel so violated.
Oh well, you know what they say… Hell hath no fury like a scorned Southern diva with a burr up her ass. Here’s a little Retribution coming your way, oh ye of crooked grin and smoldering bedroom eyes. Calling all David Cook ex-girlfriends out there!!! Lissen up! I need for you to form a single line, and when it’s your turn in the chair, please DO TELL how… David is a pyromaniac who also takes pleasure in torturing small animals; how he likes to alternate his own undergarments between well-worn women’s panties and his Captain America Underoos; how he has really rancid breath, several rashes of unknown origin and an oozing venereal disease; how his favorite shirt is a Loverboy wife-beater, which he likes to pair with red cowboy boots and a thong. Oh, but most of all, DO TELL us how terribly BAD he is in bed, ‘kay? That would just PLEASE ME TO NO END!… Well…., right up to the point where I KICK YOUR ASS for talking smack about my boyfriend. Hey, I am a possessive Southern chick, after all… Just ask Faith Hill.
Later y’all.
You’ve Been Bitten!
I’ve Been Bitten – by David Cook. Damn Him to Everlasting Hell! Right after I pour some sugar on him….. *Lick*…. Grrrrr…..
Here's the link
The Gunslinger
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