So there I am, helping Trina plan her wedding in this enormous mansion on the beach with this big drag-queen looking lady when Kirk Cameron comes up to see what's going on. We hit it off immediately and I'm really, really attracted to him and I can tell he's into me which is awesome because I totally watched Growing Pains all the time as a kid. So we're joking a flirting and whatnot and then I remember that we're cousins. Am I hallucentating? I wonder. He's totally hot; we can't be cousins. And then my cousin Meryn shows up and explains to me, Shakespeare style, that they have the same father but different mothers (like bloddy mary and Elizabeth I) and that he never comes to Thanksgiving because he got all famous.
There are a number of reasons why this is the saddest dream I have ever had. If I wasn't in a medication-induced coma right now... but I can't even make excuses.
I'll admit it, I thought about checking out the cousin laws in France.
Note: The woman in charge of my building is psychotic. I think she broke the (only) drier (in the building) on purpose. She hasn't cleaned our sink in four weeks. She's turned into a nutella nazi and won't set it out at breakfast even though she clearly has boxes of it. And she turned off all the ovens and wrote "out of order" on them, even though they still work. I really think she's crazy. She sics her dog on Carrie and I think she's hording my mail.
Phrase du Jour: Hors Service (out of service)
teehee.
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