Rob’s mailbag has been OVERFLOWING with goodness lately and these letters just must be shared.
The one where Rob follows her everywhere
He'll sing you to sleep...
Don’t tell my husband, but you and I go to sleep together every night, wake up together every morning and we spend my entire workday together. I take comfort in knowing that if I am having an especially crap-filled day at work, that all I have to do is right click and ‘Show the Desktop’ and there you will be, looking at me with your smoldering eyes, your body partially reclining with those gorgeous hairy arms crossed so demurely over your RobKnob and THAT JAW. (My desktop used to be a photo of my 5 year old daughter. Now it’s you. Always you.)
I have all of your music that I was able to *ahem* TOTALLY LEGALLY DOWNLOAD.
Five songs. Five amazing songs. Some have crappy sound since they were recorded in pubs, but I don’t care. Anyway…. this is how we wake up together every morning. I set my iPhone up every night to wake me to one of your songs, a different one for each weekday. Your voice fills the early morning darkness and I open my eyes with wicked thoughts. I look over at my husband, sleeping sweetly and feel the slightest hint of guilt. It passes in .025 seconds.
I go to work, I spend about 25% of my day doing the job I get paid to do and 75% on LTR and Robsessed and checking my Google Alerts for the latest on your daily carousing.
I go to the gym, I watch Twilight while on the elliptical and try not to drool on the equipment (TWSS).
I go home, be a loving, devoted and attentive mother and spouse for a few hours then dive into literary porn – I mean “fanfic”. HOOO BOY. It may say “Edward” and “Bella” but those are just words. This is how we go to sleep together. I set my iPhone alarm and start the cycle again the next day.
This is my life now.
I used to be interesting! I had hobbies! I did STUFF. Now I am like a crazy person, hiding my insanity from my husband. I buy your past magazine covers on eBay (at ridiculous prices) and have them sent to work. Your music is on my phone under “Rob Thomas”. Your other films that I have purchased on DVD are buried deep within my daughter’s DVD shelves. LTR and Robsessed are under the “Finances” folder of my Google Bookmarks – since I know my husband would never bother to look at ANYTHING under “Finances”.
I don’t know what it is about you. I’ve had serious actor crushes before but never this obsessive. My sister asked the other day, “Is this as bad as Brad Pitt in 1994?” Me: “So much worse, that was a 10 minute phase compared to this.” Bear in mind, Rob, the Brad Pitt crush lasted FOURTEEN YEARS and then you came along and that was it. I was done for.
You had me at (wait for it…….) “Hello, my name is Edward Cullen.”
The one where she’s disappointed
Reminder that this post is where (and why) the term “mullephant” was coined
Just ADMIT it already! We're on to you
We need to talk. I know nobody likes to hear those words, but this is serious. We NEED to talk. Lately, my feelings for you have been a little off. I hate to admit this, but I’m starting to think you’re , well, kind of a dick. Games are for children, Rob. And this PR game you’re playing with your questionable relationship with The Mullephant Who Shall Not Be Named is old, frankly. You claim to want privacy, the mullephant wants to “keep things to to herself.” Right. Okay, so that’s why you go out of your way to avoid speculation about this “relationship”, right? WRONG. You both do everything the opposite of what someone who wanted to keep it on the down low would do. Airport sightings! Shirtgate! Kindlegate! Wrist holding! And the list goes on, provoking both Robstens and Nonstens into a flurry of confirmations/ denials. It’s great PR-who said “the only bad publicity is no publicity?” I don’t know, but you’ve certainly taken it to heart. By “keeping it to yourselves (not)” you’ve got every gossip site known to man wondering “are they/aren’t they?” and the paps are dying to get that money shot of real, undeniable PDA.
Which brings me back to my feelings for you. I’m sorry Rob, but I do think you’re a bit of a dick for playing along. You couldn’t lose any more privacy than you have already, so why not come clean and put all the speculation to rest? Coyness does not suit you. It might even take a little of the heat off you, who knows? Don’t worry about the repercussions of confessing, it will go one of two ways: Robstens will rejoice, Don’tgiveacrapstens won’t give a crap and Nonstens will be waiting for the breakup. Or vice versa. Either way, Eclipse and Breaking Dawn are still going to make bajillions and life will go on.
So why not come clean, Rob? As much as it would pain me to hear you confirm it (ouch) all the gossip and insanity over it is driving me insane and making me lose a tiny bit of respect for you. I know maybe it shouldn’t, but it’s an unfortunate part of being crazy about you.It’s unavoidable.I’m telling you this because I love you, Rob. I’d rather hear the truth from you, even if I don’t like it, but please-no PDA.
Still in love with you, but a little ticked off,
Even more from Rob’s mailbag after the jump! Read More…