The first thought that went through my head (and Jenny Jerkface's because apparently we're sharing the same brain today) is OMFG I MUST HAVE THAT SHIRT!!! And then I Google it on the internet because that's what I do when I see something I MUST HAVE (see, I Google RPattz like a million times a day and I must have him) - and my search tells me that this completely fuckawesome piece of clothing was part of the Beastie's 1987 License to Ill tour. Um, excuse me? Rob? You were like a fucking infant when the Boys were on that tour. Where da fuck did you get that shirt?
Like, OMG, where are my acid wash jeans? Totally awe-soooome!
So Snarkier Than You just throws it out there that maybe he bought the shirt at Kitson which apparently has really cool, overpriced clothing that us normal folk can't afford. And THEN she says something to the effect of holy-fucking-shit-they-even-have-a-picture-of-him-on-their-website-with-a-shopping-bag!!
Seconds later I get yet another email from STY with a link to this photo from Kitson.com and she's all mumbling about buying them in bulk and having found her Forks nightie...
At some point, it's all a blur now, I had to respond with some more photos of the front of him... not that I don't enjoy looking at his ass... not that I wouldn't give my left tit to have both of my hands firmly planted on said ass, preferably while he's thrusting into my va-jay-jay... but fuck, I needs to see that face whenever humanly possible. VitaminR thinks he's an alien. No human can be this good looking. Oh and Rob? She said she'll take down the "Closed" sign and gladly reopen her uterus if you want to make some cute alien babies with her!!
Once I was able to form a coherent thought again, and had mopped up the puddle of drool on my desk, I realized something. HOLY FUCK ROBERT PATTINSON IS IN MONTREAL... A FIVE FUCKING HOUR DRIVE FROM ME. This may officially be the closest he's ever been to me (that I know of anyway) and my brain immediately starts thinking "road trip!" And then I remember that I'm 40, married and not completely stalkerific crazy like I was in my younger days, so I'm just going to stay home and fantasize about him.
But RPattz, if you're reading this, I have one question for you...
Voulez vous au coucher avec moi ce soir? Je vous attends...nu.