In Memoriam of Breaking Bad… Bitch

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I’d just like to preface this post by saying that my life will never be the same again. And that I never thought I could love someone as much as R.Gos until Aaron Paul’s stunning face made an appearance in my bedroom one fateful Sunday night.

Aaron-Paul

Do you people follow his social media feeds? He calls his equally perfect wife pretty bird.

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Pretty bird. AKA she’s a bird. AKA if she’s a bird he’s a bird.

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He is literally perfect.

A perfect man for a perfect role on a perfect series. I could not have been happier with the finale of Breaking Bad. I thought the way it ended was positively romantic.

I just can’t believe it’s over.

And what the hell else was I supposed to do tonight? The first Sunday I am without Walt, Jesse, and the rest of the miserable gang. I promised myself I wouldn’t cry so that option was off the table. So instead of sitting around with my thumb up my you-know-what I just need to sit here and reminisce with you about the best series that ever lived.

I can’t even watch Malcolm in the Middle anymore, and for years I maintained that it was the best show on television. Well B. Crans. You’ve outdone yourself. Although now that I know your depth as an actor I just can’t look at Malcolm’s silly, unsure, freak of a father the same way anymore.

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I was behind a bald man in the elevator the other day and nearly shed a tear for Mike and he was gone a whole season ago… It just feels like it was yesterday.

Thank AMC Walking Dead comes back next Sunday, I don’t think I could stand another Sunday night un-entertained with this kind of loss still so fresh in my heart.

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My Type…

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For a long while I was unaware that I even had a type. “Boy is my type” I’d say. I heard Pamela Anderson say it back when she was Pamela Anderson Lee and they still aired new episodes of Bay Watch and I thought it sounded cool – she saved lives on TV it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Anyway, I always had a general sense of what I was attracted to: broad shoulders, scruffy chin, athleticism, Ryan Gosling – the usual. But it wasn’t until the past few years that “my type” fully emerged.

Let me begin with a brief description of myself in high school… Remember how in junior high there were two types of kids? One was kind of chubby and a little bit big for their age and the other was the saddest, scrawniest thing you’d ever seen?

I was the latter until I was about 18, but with huge sunken eyes, braces, and eyeliner with no mascara.

Here I am 1st Day Sr. Year

Here I am 1st Day Sr. Year

Needless to say I was the pick of the litter in those days, and had to beat the dudes off with a stick.

...And on my 18th Birthday...

…And on my 18th Birthday…

Not.

But it’s no surprise that my type bloomed as late as I did, and now that I’m about three and a half years out of my awkward stage it’s becoming clearer and clearer… My type…

Is:

Gingers.

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I love them.

I love the fiery armpit hair they have to offer, the one skin tone on this planet that’s paler than mine, and the fact that they freckle in the sun instead of tanning. They always have something else weird going on too like a speech impediment or a short thumb that I find adorable.

Now if you ask me, only three out of five men in my life worth mentioning were honest to God gingers but I guess the other two are grandfathered in on a count of their reddish facial hair and their:

A) freckles, or

B) Irish skin.

Potato, tomato – My mom never lets me live it down…

As a halfling, (they call me strawberry blonde but, in truth, I was a ginger baby)

Diva

DivaTotal DivaTotal Diva

I feel as though I need to stand up for my people and love them the same as if they weren’t a genetic abnormality. I honestly feel that I’m drawn to them as if fate brought our similar hair colors together. Either that or God really is playing the Simms with us and is purposefully trying to mate me with a pure bread so we make Him more little baby cupids.

Boom. Berry Blonde.

Boom. Berry Blonde.

 

Either way, here’s a list of hot gingers I’m throwing your way so you can catch my fire:

Jessica from True Blood

Jessica from True Blood

Owen from Grey's Anatomy

Owen from Grey’s Anatomy

Gettin' Some Ginger Lovin'

Work It.

Emma Stone - Duh

Emma Stone – Duh

Isla Fischer

Isla Fischer

Prince Harry

Prince Harry

Ron Weasley

Ron Weasley

Louis C.K.

Louis C.K.

Conan

Conan

The Cutest Irish Setter You Ever Saw

The Cutest Irish Setter You Ever Saw

 

And the list goes on my friends… The list goes on…