I always thought that the only celebrity that could incite any sort of stalker behavior out of me was Christian Bale. I have been madly in love (border line obsessed) with him since I was about 10 years old. When I was little I used to write him a letter every week in hopes that he would write me back. Which he never did. As I got older, and he started getting bigger and more spectacular muscles letters were out, and provocative fantasies were in. The first five minutes of American Psycho are like my dream come true. All I needed was for him to turn around in the shower.
But I made a sojourn to Los Angeles last week, and it’s really true—there are celebrities everywhere out there. And I didn’t react as non-chalantly as I thought I would. Sure, you see them in New York too, but for some reason they seem to blend in more to the everyday population. In LA, maybe it was just me, but they stand out.
I got off the plane, and standing next to me at the baggage claim was none other than Kyle MchLaughin of Sex and the City and Desperate Housewives fame. Him, I wasn’t knocked out over. But still, I had been in town for thirty seconds. Read More »
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