My little home town of Philadelphia has been buzzing for some time now about that new movie that's shooting downtown and blah blah Reese Witherspoon blah blah blah Jack Nicholson got mocked by the Phanatic at the Phil's game the other night blabbity blah Owen Wilson yawn yawn and HOLY SHIT PAUL RUDD IS HERE.
Ya'll remember my little deal with B, right? [Attention mother and future mother-in-law: EYEMUFFS] We each got to choose one celebrity that we'd sleep with if we could and the other person totally wouldn't even get mad? Well gu-u-u-eeee-ssssss who's in town. PAUL RUDD, MOTHAFLIPPAS.
I've been spending the past few weeks carefully designing a plan that, when executed, will lead Paul Rudd's eager tongue right into my open mouth. I've been walking around the city dropping notes like breadcrumbs that will inevitably go straight to the heart of the man that is Rudd. And I'll be ready. Oh yes. I'll be ready.