Bedtime


Dear Felicia Day,
We need to talk. Something’s been bothering me lately, but let me start out by expressing how utterly I lust for and worship you. You’ve popped up in all manner of bizarre and awesome places. You star in the greatest commercial of all time, you’re in the astounding Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog, and you sang “Still Alive” at PAX. For reference, I’ve included videos of all these things after the jump. All of these appearances have inspired in me a deep and enduring urge to fornicate with you.
Here’s the problem Felicia, I’ve been following you on Twitter along with several other celebrities like Wil Wheaton and Grant from MythBusters, but you just can’t compete. The other celebrity Twitterers always come up with interesting things to say, but with you, it seems like it’s always marketing for whatever you’re working on now. I’m sorry, but I’m just not interested in your new show or your visit to Comic-Con. I don’t have time for all of this, you’re smothering me!
Wishing you were sitting in a theatre beside me,
Newbs
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