Dear Brittany Snow,
I love you. And I want you to know it. I’ve loved you since “American Dreams”, and have ever since. I’d gladly listen to a continuous loop of “Secret Lover” as sung by Kevin Federline, and William Hung just to have the chance to eat grapes off of your ass crack and confess my unrequited love to thee while you parade yourself in the red silk lingerie you’re featured in midway. Yes, this is true. And I’m not ashamed to admit it. You say creepy, but I say lovelorn. I’m only human, damn it!
And we’re back.





