Hello, lovely twatwaffles and donkey-snatches. As you all know, STY and I will be sprinting around New York City, meeting up with other bloggers, drinking whiskey, desperately hoping to catch sight of RPattz and, most importantly... watching mother fucking New Moon. [My priorities may be a tad skewed on those last two but I don't think so.]
Flip cameras are being charged, subway routes are being plotted and tracked and we are just SO ready for this.
Except that we're totally not, which is fine because, inevitably, this seems to be the way we roll. I mean, we've been talking and prepping for this day for, oh, TEN FUCKING MONTHS, and I'm currently sitting here, hair undyed, eyebrows as bushy as RPattz (mono-brow, in-between-filming RPattz!) and holy-fucking-shit-where-is-my-OTHER-camera?! In other words, basically freaking the fuck out. Did my paycheck cash? Probably should have checked that earlier. And where the hell are those movie tickets? Hope I don't have to poop at Union Square. Those bathrooms are shit, excuse the pun.
Actually, I don't know if there is a bathroom at Union Square - I guess I'll have to use the sidewalk...
Needless to say, it's time for a
Anyhoo, suffice it to say that we won't be around on the blog tomorrow. We are bringing an arsenal of tech-y shit that we aren't really even sure how to use but will hopefully twittering/picturing/making out with RPattz and whatnot throughout the day (and night). Granted, there will be a two hour and ten minute leave of absence, but that's about it.
We know quite a few of you are going to be bowing out of the mayhem tomorrow. Smart bitches! Because of this, STY and I are going to actually (gasp!) refrain from giving anything away for the next few days. The only thing you might hear from us was "holy shit, the movie was fucking great" or "WTF, that sucked" or "Um, can we have a fundraiser for bail money?"
So, this is where you lovely folks come in. As STY mentioned earlier, we want your pictures from YOUR New Moon experience. Having a party? Send us pictures (preferably clothed(-ish), natch. We're already walking that fine line). Stuck at home and pouting? Take a picture of your sad mug and send it to us. Brownie points if you have Twitarded shit on, because we are totally vain like that. Email us whatever you've got and we'll put together a little collage so all those that aren't able to attend can live vicariously through them. This is for all you ladies who can't get babysitters, are on bed rest (yikes! Stay strong, sweetie!), have to work the next day, are still stuffed into the Twicloset or whatever reason that keeps you from the theater.
Because, at the end of the day, this is all about us, all of us. And this is the only way we can think of to celebrate this silliness together.
Oh, and one more thing. Today is the LAST night to donate to our Alex's Lemonade Stand fundraiser and help us win our dinner with Peter Facinelli. I promise to eat fiber before we go. Oh wait, is that the right thing to do?