Michael K is my homeboy

Remember last month I whined about sucking at a job writing for D-listed? Then despite my lack of qualifications and overall uncoolness, I still applied? Well, Mister K wrote me via email this evening!!

"Hi! 

I owe you a whole lot of balloons with "I'm Sowwy" written on each of them, because I am so late in responding to you. I had a lot of applications to read and since I'm lazy and kind of slow in the head it took me a while. Thank you for taking time out of your life to apply to be an intern for my mess of a blog, but I have decided to go with another candidate. 

I will drink to you tonight, and since this is obviously a form letter (see: me being lazy) I have a lot of drinking to do tonight. So I should get to it.

Thank you again. If you do hate me because of this, let's meet out back and handle it by catfighting, because I've always want to Vaseline up my face.

Love and Lucite,

Michael"

Why am I all giddy like the time I met Björk and asked her *like a complete dörk* if I could take a picture with her and she told me "NO!" and I followed her all night trying to get a photo with her anyway?! I find celebrity rejection hilarious!

PS Never piss Björk off...She's tiny yet ratchet!

I'm so happy he was kind enough to let me *and the rest of us who applied* down gently. I wasn't even expecting a response. Now he's making me wanna Single White Female him even more.

Now I must go pray to my Michael K shrine made of cheeto bags and lucite heels!!