This weekend, Keith Urban will be the musical guest on Saturday Night Live. Yes, it's sort of silly how excited I am over this. I never claimed to be normal.
So you've all seen the news about the female astronaut who drove from Houston to Orlando to do god-knows-what to a woman (another astronaut) whom she believed was stealing her boyfriend (who is.....you guessed it....an astronaut). I'm not really sure why their occupation matters. Astronaut, teacher, hotel maid, we are all one-step away from becoming that pyscho-girlfriend.
If you can't relate, well, it's because you've never loved passionately. Passion brings out such intense emotions. When it's good, it's the best ever. There is no better feeling than passionate love. When it's bad, oh my god, watch out. Those moments, you can convince yourself that driving to Orlando wearing diapers is a good thing, or that breaking down the apartment door is necessary because you simply have to talk to your lover.
Some women just love really hard, that's all. There's a saying that most women are two drinks away from being lesbian. I say there are a even higher number of us that, when faced with a cheating partner, will go to even more extreme lengths.
While I sit here and type this, the news is inundated with the story of this lady. I might not have pepper-sprayed somebody (god knows I certainly wanted to inflict bodily harm when I was the pyscho ex-girlfriend), but her emotions and behavior are not that far-fetched.
I mean, after all, who steals someone's shoes?
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