Since you haven’t all known me since the early 2000’s I am sure that my obsession with Melissa Rivers has escaped you thus far. And since her mom died, I decided to just stop thinking about her for a while. BUT THAT TIME PERIOD HAS ELAPSED! Now, why do I love Melissa? Well, I am pretty sure she is gettable. I mean, she spent most of her time with her mom, which means she has issues, and wanted to make sure that she was at least the hottest one out of the two of them. She might be rich now but I am still not sure she is super picky.
Also, when I was a kid, my grandparents’ house up in Oakland (Maine, not CA. I’m not a hoodlum) had lots of arts and crafts but very few books. One of the books was this.
It wasn’t super funny. But I was really little so: “The doctor keeps telling me I’m eating for two. Who are these people and why can’t they do their own eating?” was the HEIGHT of hilarity. So I read it about a million times. There was pretty much nothing else to read in the whole house except boring text books and shampoo bottles.
But what does a book about Melissa, who wasn’t even born yet, have to do with my undying love? Well, I realized she was close to my age, and as the 90s and my sexual maturity coincided, there she was on E!, yakking along with her mom. It was then that I realized that all I had to do was to be in the right place at the right time and I would be going up the River(s). Did I do it? I did not. I drank a lot and never even went to California. Her loss, I guess.
But then when I started being on the Internet a lot in the early 2000’s I either used the Million Dollar Man as my avatar or Melissa. Melissa won out, though. I guess maybe that’s why people thought I was a chick? Meh. Whatever. All I know is I was cleaning out my comp and found a folder called: MR Avys 7. SEVEN! I wish I knew where the first six were. But here are the ones from batch 7. Feel free to use them.
If you put up pics of yourself you will prolly get predatored. And seriously NOBODY cares about your stupid kids or how you feel about wine. Nobody.