How Mella Got Her Groove Back

Okay, I was informed today that a pretentious bitch ate my blog. I kicked her sorry butt out. This is the real Mel and I’m here to kick ass and take names. It’s time to rearrange the furniture, so things are going to start looking a lot different around here.

I was also informed by the same person that my crushing on celebrities (or, more specifically, Olympic Gold Medal Swimmers named Ryan Lochte) isn’t “socially acceptable” beyond, I guess, puberty or something. (And, I totally just typed Olympic God Medal Swimmers before I corrected it. Olympic God, fo sho) I say to that:

Whatever! “Socially acceptable” or not, hot is hot. While I am over the crush, I’m not over the hotness when I come across it. Once you hear him speak, the hotness factor goes way, way down. Boy seems as dumb as a box of hair, and as Kathy Griffin says, I can't f-iretr-uck a dumb man. So, I pretend he doesn’t speak or that he has the mind of Carl Sagan when I need to, um, draw upon the hotness ; ) Looks like that and can talk to me intelligently about science and space? That would be a fantasy! Seriously, though, not to dwell, but who knew a man in a swimcap could look so good?! Or, you know, dwell...