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Sunday, January 22, 2012

Touchable

Drew Peterson: Untouchable weekend has drawn to a close and, as one might expect, there's a little bit of a letdown. Ever since those photos of Rob Lowe buried under sixteen pounds of moustache surfaced on the Internet we've been looking forward to it and now we can no longer look forward to the joy of hearing dialogue like "Drew just pushed me into the TV. Want to help me make Margaritas?" for the first time. And who knows how long it will be until the next wife murdering comedy comes out? Too long, that's for damned sure.

Anyway, I'm trying to mentally prepare myself now for a week without Drew. The snow is melting off rapidly, which helps a little bit. I'm basking in the promise of potentially being able to get my car out for a run to Target. I'm planning to buy snow boots and a spare phone charger, you see. If life gets any more exciting than that, I don't want to know about it.

It's going to be a long work week, I think. I pretty much tend to always think that, but I also tend to generally be right. Just like that time I predicted that Kate Hudson would win an Oscar, I would very much prefer to be wrong.

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