I really don't understand how I can have, like, five perfectly normal, respectable fics in the works (including the last installment of
warning_labels, aka the GUILT RIDDEN ALBATROSS AROUND MY NECK), none of which I can seem to complete, but then all of a sudden my brain wants to write more than 3000 words of a JONAS BROTHERS/BAND OF BROTHERS CROSSOVER in under
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I've realized why I not-so-secretly dig the pretension: he sounds like every young, male Lit professor I've ever had, who knew all the undergrad girls had crushes on him and wanted to be the grad girls' favorite. All those guys were total dbags, but I couldn't help but be fond of most of them. It's a sickness?
Um that soccer picture is nice.
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Interesting! I... think I personally just have DLew Stockholm Syndrome, but I can see that!
THE SOCCER PICTURE IS SUPER EXCELLENT.
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Hahaha, yeah, I would've felt like a big liar leaving off the Casino Night kiss, even though at this point I've watched it so much it no longer does anything for me. But man, summer of '06, heady days!
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They really have to rehabilitate Jim Halpert at some point, right? I mean, they have to realize they've written a dbag... RIGHT????
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Hey I didn't realize he was so hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, WOW NO.
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Oh. My. God.
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