Monday, October 22, 2007
I was doing pretty well on my diet and run for Reese Witherspoon when I heard that she and James Blunt shared an evening together. In what I am hoping was a one time drunken thing or some strange twisted test to prove my love, this is what happened. Earlier this month, James played the El Rey Theatre in LA. Reese was there early with three other friends and they went straight to the bar where she was seated at a VIP table. She and her friends immediately began chugging white whine like it was Tickle Pink and meanwhile one hit wonder man was doing his thing on stage.
When James finished his set, he went into the bar looking for someone who would give his scraggly ass a second look, and Reese practically ran to him. Ran to him like he was an inhaler and she was dying of an asthma attack.
She invited him back to the table and proceeded to kiss his ass for the next hour or so and the two wouldn't let any of Reese's friends join in the conversation. They exchanged numbers but I'm hopeful that he sticks to his 20 year old super models and lets Reese go. I wonder if she bought his new CD? God, I hope he didn't bring one over to her house and take out a pen if you know what I mean. That's one thing that I wouldn't be able to handle if he signed.
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10 comments:
EWWW. James Blunt is a disgusting slimeball.
I'd say she has too much sense to get involved with him but she did marry Ryan Phillipe...so, you know.
Good lord, even Elle Woods is smart enough not to do James Blunt. UGH!!
Yuk James RUNT is just gross. Reese please pickup a self help book and stop picking MR. Wrong.
Really, Ent, if she goes after an emaciated one-hit wonder - do you really want to be with that?
If you do, remember to scrub throughly with a germkiller afterwards.
From what I understand, she was asking for your number ENT and Blunt was claiming to have it at home, and she could call him for it.
At least that is what I heard.
"Ran to him like he was an inhaler and she was dying of an asthma attack"
Bahaha!
The truth is, women go for guys with guitars. It's like reflex. Personally, I prefer guitars of the electric, wailing kind, and "You're Beautiful" makes me want to kill myself when I hear it...but some chicks still go for the guy at the house party who finds the hosts' acoustic guitar and spends the rest of the evening serenading the girls with smarmy ballads until one of them (or more) takes their clothes off.
YOU'RE BETTER OFF WITHOUT HER, ENT!!!
Although she does look stunning in that picture.
Always ask yourself: What would Elle Woods do?
Musicians are bad for you. I mean bad for me. Yeah, and probably you too!
Reese! Put the blunt down now! That song wasn't about you. And let's face it, he's scruffy. And you know what it's like when a guy's scruffy and tryin to...just walk away. AWAY!
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