You’ve officially ruined me. I think of you when I see or hear things that have nothing to do with you. Thanks.
In-N-out burger: Some people think “Animal Style,” I think “Animal Style with Robert Pattinson”
Heineken: Rob has officially ruined the “lady’s night” for every single woman in this country. You know it’s happened to you- you get all dolled up and hit the bar with your favorite gal pals. You cruise the scene- looking for that special someone, and BAM- there he is. A handsome, (you think…. you are 3 bombay & tonics in) tall (well, 5’9″ is tall for some people), friendly guy- coming your way. But then, you see it. That green & red sign behind his head. And it’s over. You turn your back. He doesn’t compare to the one you really want. The “bombay & tonic” goggles have come off- he’s not good enough. No one is. You drown your sorrows in another bombay & tonic- no wait- suddenly you’re craving cheap, Dutch beer, and so you order the only thing that will (somewhat) ease your pain: Heineken, of course. Because you never know….. The one you really want might just come walking into that bar, and you can’t be caught drinking anything else… (Note: google images found me a Heineken gem- BEWARE this has bare female breasts: Heineken Sign um, anyone notice anything missing?)
Things other than food or drink make me think of Rob. Get ready after the jump:
Dads: The one place you’d think I’d be safe- my dad. But noooooo. Rob had to go around looking like a dad with a newspaper & jacket in Cannes and every time he goes to the airport he has to bring the biggest “DadCase” possible- packed neatly with his camcorder, Nikon camera & who knows what else. Diapers? Probably because if he’s like my cousin, Trent, who just had a kid and who I saw for the first time since the birth of his baby last week, he’s got diapers, a rattle and probably a spare breast pump just in case the mommy forgets hers. It’s so bad that I looked at Trent and said, “Trent. You’re a Dad.” To which he responded, “Um, yes. That happens when you have a baby.” And I said “No, I mean like….you have a Dadcase and everything…..” Crickets. I look around to see if anyone in my family reads this blog. They all stared blankly. I was thankful. But turned red. Cuz yet again, I turned something not about Rob, into something about Rob.
My computer: I can’t even look at my computer without thinking “Must.Write.Rob.A.Letter.Now”
Moon: I used to think of my dear friend, theMoonisDown, and remember our good times in college (well, our one memory together when we passed each other in the bathroom!) but now I hear “Moon” (or her real name- which is actually the name of a Twilight actress, so I hear it often) and think “Must.Write.Rob.A.Letter.Now”
The Actual Moon: The steps I go through in my mind #1: I look out at the nighttime sky #2: I see the moon #3: I think of my friend “Moon,” #4: I think of Rob. Always. I read the famous book Good-night Moon to a child- Sometimes I skip steps #1-3 and to think “Rob better not be saying “Good-night Moon” to Moon- I will kick her ass. He’s mine” I do this. Really.
The Queen: She’s British. Hellooooo. That’s Normal. Do you think they’re related?
New York City: Officially ruined by Robert Pattinson as a place I could ever visit for a relaxing get-away. Next time I jump on the train and head up there I am taking along my custom “Robert Pattinson Map” and doing the “Robert Pattinson tour” where I start out at the Bowery Hotel for drinks, trek on over to Union Square, try to get in a few NYU buildings, head up to the Upper West Side, Find a random beach, Take a stroll in Central Park, Lick the Alice & Wonderland statues, take the subway to Brooklyn and rub up against every bike rack I come across, just in case it’s the one his bike was chained to.
My pants: Do they look familiar? I can’t put these three year old Seven brand jeans on without thinking of Rob’s hole (that’s what she said) in the exact.same.spot. I wear them every day in hopes that today is “the day” we meet for the first time and I can use my great conversation starter “Hey! You’re wearing my pants!” That’s Normal.
My childhood memories with my girlfriends: Once thought of as the one place thoughts of Robert Pattinson couldn’t penetrate (ah penetrate- another thing that makes me think of Rob), the beautiful, innocent memories of 12 year old girls staying up till 4 am telling scary stories, playing Girl Talk, Mall Madness and talking about Jonathan Taylor Thomas have been ruined- all because of Rob with a pink sleeping bag. I HAD that sleeping bag! In fact, so did my best friend and one time in 6th grade I accidentally peed in it while I was sleeping. And I never told her. Because I was in 6th grade, and that’s just embarrassing. And she’s actually in India right now…. working at an orphanage…. and I’ll bet she brought that sleeping bag…. that I peed in back in 1995…….
Thanks again to Zephyersky who is the master of RobPorn