WK22 - Love is All You Need

I hate to say it, but this V is actually winding up. It has been a gracious giver, not having closed her doors (ewe!) for more than seven months. But now as we get down to the last month or so, I can't help but feel a bit melancholy.

"'Es OK," said a close friend of mine.

Everybody needs some Juan.

For those of you who don't get the reference, please crawl out of your cave and watch some sublime ABC trash television. The Fucking Randy knows good trash television when he sees it, and the Bachelor is no exception. What better way to celebrate love then via a game of Survivor meets polygamy?

That being said, I do believe that, in this world, love is all you need.

"Hey! That's the title of this blog post!" chest-pumped Sitch.

How observant, you meat-fuck.

Despite the absolute hilarity and addictive trash I witnessed on the Bachelor, love is indeed all you need in this world. And I do think the V demonstrates this very well. I mean, for the first time in what I feel like is eternity, all select-GMs are happy, in love, and well. How nice is that? (no sarcasm)

Aside, here are the stats, courtesy of the stats machine: 

I shall step away from my normal statistical analysis this week for a few reasons. One, I'm tired, and I don't think I can muster up the energy to deal with Pierre's insider reports ("Nooo!" cried Pierre). Second, I'm feeling anti-vulgar today (shocking, I know). Maybe it's because the days are getting longer, or maybe it's because Dick Burn's informed me that he has once again gone MIA, this time making his way across the Atlantic to visit his previous mate.

"Cheerio!" said Dick as he left the sweet eastern harbor.

I'm happy for you, Dick. 

I'm happy for you too, Burgs. 

I'm happy for you as well, Sitch.

I'm happy, as always, for you, Tree Bone.

I'm happy as can be for you, Safari.

Be happy, my good select-GMs, at your fortunes.

Cordially,

Morpheus Randy