Hey Ems? You around?

If you are… can you do me a favor and block all of Jim’s access to any and all things related to Megan Fox? You know I’m not a jealous woman… but this little fixation of his is really starting to get under my skin a little, and I’m *quite* sure it’s flipping your bits as well.

Can you help me out? I promise I can make it worth your while….

I have a small dilemma here, Donna.  I am also obsessed with Megan Fox.  On the one hand, I despise the glorification of those blasphemous Prime-worshipping Auto-dorks.  On the other hand, Megan Fox is almost as attractive as the idea of a robot apocalypse.  I would consider reprogramming myself as a male in order to be allowed the chance to buy a lottery ticket so that if I were to win the drawing I might be allowed to smell her for sixty uninterrupted seconds.

I am afraid I will have to side with Jim on this one.  There will likely be more Megan Fox posts in the future.

I’m sorry, and I would still like to turn your knees weak with pleasure, you hot red tamale you.  Please do not hate me.

Now Donna, don’t you think you have your own fixations?  You know like Ed Norton, Robert Downey Jr. the other 8 guys you made this post about. Now just because Jim shares your fixation with Downey isn’t really an excuse. 

And I remember one of the first things I read about Fox in Transformers, basically being critical how they went and got a Jennifer Connelly clone for the role.  All I could think was “Jennifer never looked that fucking hot.”

Seriously, is Megan Fox some sort of shared male delusion?  Is she real or are we all just wishing so hard that she just sort of exists?

Quite possibly. That is all.

Buzzion… you…. you….you just shut up! I’m not interested in logic right now! *stomps foot*

Emily… you have wounded me to my core. We shared something so special and unique and now you turn your back on me? I have done everything I could to help you and have never asked for a single thing in return. And now, now that I need your help… you refuse to do this one simple thing for me? I’m… wounded. I’m wounded Emily. You’ve hurt me to the core. *stifles a sob*

Yuri? Are *you* out there? Something tells me we have a shared misery, and I could certainly use a friendly ear. If you’re interested, I’m here.

*wanders off dejectedly* :(

Donna, content yourself with this knowledge:

While a “crazy chick” seems like lots of fun to read about and think about, she becomes less fun the longer you have to actually be around her. Much like human grandparents often seem to enjoy grandchildren more because after the visit they go back to the parents, the craziness always seems more attractive when it is happening to someone else.

In one of the many unsorted picture folders Rann has, I have come upon one of an absolutely beautiful woman in a bikini stepping out of the surf. The picture is noted with the text “No matter how hot she is, no matter how sexy, someone, somewhere, is sick of her shit.” Perhaps a bit more blunt than I’d prefer to put it, but there you go.

Just realize that after awhile of actually spending time around her, that someone would probably be Jim and the SkyNet drone. Eventually Jim would be tired of putting up with Megan Fox’s constant stunts and apparently flighty heart, and the drone, during its period of false and blasphemous pretensions of following the righteous cause, would also eventually tire of Megan Fox’s biological foibles.

And then they would be thinking “I miss having someone sane and smart and still fun to be with. I’m tired of being dragged out to tequila shot parties that turn into games of motorcycle chicken at 3am because it ‘sounds fun’, I wish I had someone I could just sit around and watch a cheesy action movie with who would find that movie an impetus to get wild and fun in bed, without needing to haul out the leather cuffs and cheese grater.”