Youkilis is turning me into a bad Rihanna joke. I want to blog about something else but I can’t.
You know that girl at the office with the crappy boyfriend? She complains and complains and complains about his drinking. Is like, mad at how he drunkenly vomited all over the curtains, but he promises not to do it again? She’s going to break up with him this time, swears she is, on account of all the leering he does at every girl but her. And yeah, he slept with her sister, but he bought her a candy bar this one time, so she’s going to give him another chance. And another one. And another one. And so what he pointed out the asstasticness of that girl’s jeans at the bar? It’s just part of his undeniable charm. Did she mention the new cologne he wears? It has some masculine name about horses. And he bought her these new shoes, see? Sure they still have the store’s magnetic antitheft strip on them, but that’s because someone forgot to remove it, obviously.
Girl at the office, I never got you until today. I never got you until I read this.
He didn’t mean it, I cry.
He’ll change for me, I scream, but you can’t hear my muffled screeching due to the ice cream and regret. Gooey, gooey regret.
I know I’ve said this before, Youkie, but you do this, and it’s really over. Stolen shoes and chocolate bars will get you NOWHERE this time.
I forgave you for screwing Tom Brady’s sister. But this tests my humanity and turns me into a bad Rihanna reference.
Don’t pander to us, Youk. It won’t work this time.
I’m going to turn it off. The emotional switch. Done. Off. Like Stefan did that one time in “The Vampire Diaries.” Except for real because CW shows (apparently) do not reflect reality (I know, right?). I officially don’t care anymore. Really. See? I’m blogging about how much I don’t care.
Because I don’t. I don’t care AT ALL.
I HOPE you turn into a Yankee. You heard me.
I can see it now. You and Joba Chamberlain, singing to each other on a fire escape.
Except it will be “Youk, you’ve got what I neeeeed…”
I’M SO CONFUSED.
And I had to tell Matt today. I mean, he knew about my Youk thing (who DOES NOT know about my Youk thing). He was looking at my computer and clicked on the last Google News alert I’d been on and it was Kevin Youkilis.
“Really?” he says.
I explain to him about what’s going on. And he- ah, how sweet and naive- says, “If Kevin Youkilis goes to the Yankees, you and my dad will have something in common.”
His dad is a Yankees fan, see. But I’ll get to that in a future blog.
No, I explain. That’s not the way it works.
And I told him about Johnny Damon.
He gets it now. He’s been very quiet for the past hour…