LOCK UP THE BOOZE AND TAKE MY PHONE AWAY

This is an emergency.

photo from referenced article at people.com

Sooooo... Haiti, right? That SUCKS. Yes, yes it does. Lots of people are doing lots of awesome stuff and donating lots of money to help these poor people. You've all heard this. It's really great what people are doing, even among the Twilight community alone. I respect the hell out of them and I love how fanfic writers and bloggers are all coming together and making great things happen.

I am, however, not one to be serious for very long, so please bear with me while I FREAK THE FUCK OUT.

I heard this rumor that Mr. Pattinson (if you're nasty) was gonna be gracing my television for a Haiti telethon tomorrow. HOW SWEET OF HIM. "I shall have to tune in to melt at the sight of his gorgeous face being all generous-and-concerned", I thought.

AND THEN, I heard this OTHER rumor (because apparently my brain is incapable of connecting the dots of "telethon + Rob probably means Rob is talking to people on the phone to take donations", nice job, brain cells) that HE IS GOING TO BE ANSWERING PHONES.

My brain: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- deep, calming breaths -

Okay, but IS THIS TRUE????

UP, UP, AND AWAY, ALL-KNOWING GOOGLESEARCH!!

2398742138569813456238145623 results for "robert pattinson haiti" later, I found the above-linked article (and photos of The Pattz next to Grizzly Pitt, no less) stating that IF one calls in to said telethon, one MAY have the chance to speak to ROBERT FREAKIN PATTINSON.

Inner 13-Year-Old: *faints*

Rational Adult buried somewhere inside, far, far behind Inner 13-Year-Old: Uhm... will anyone actually get around to donating money? 'Cause really...

So, yeah. Rational Adult thinks it would be highly disrespectful to call when I KNOW I am in no way a Serious Donater, even though I'm sure I could totally scrounge up a couple of bucks.

Inner 13-Year-Old is still shaking.

PLAN:

1. Someone needs to beat feet over to my house and LOCK AWAY every drop of alcohol in my kitchen. Don't forget the stash in my bedroom.

2. I think... it would be best... if someone could take care of my iPhone for awhile. *sobs* Please keep it safe, and tell it I love it.

3. Now that I feel EVEN GUILTIER about not donating money, I'm gonna have to figure out where (BESIDES THE FUCKING TELETHON) I should donate what little I can afford.

4. DO NOT, under any circumstances, let me borrow your phone.

Would you like to know WHY I am placing all these rules upon myself (besides the can't-donate-I'm-poor-OMGROBLETMEGIVEYOUMONEYTOHEARYOURPRETTYVOICE-guilt)?

A hypothetical, but very likely accurate, rendition of what may happen if EtomyB is allowed access to phone lines and alcohol this Friday evening.

Scene: EtomyB sits at home, texting with friends about her excitement of seeing Rob on TV soon. She glances into the kitchen.

Vodka bottle: You know you want to drink meeeee... Liquid courage...
EtomyB: HA! NEVER!!
Vodka bottle: C'mon, you know you want to call... and you'll never be able to without me....
EtomyB (in a weak voice): Nooooo... mustn't...
Vodka bottle: *sits silently on top of fridge*
EtomyB: FINE!!! FUCK!!!
*swigs Liquid Courage straight from the bottle*
---------------------------------------------
Several shots later

*calls telethon*
*miraculously gets put on the phone with Rob, likely so that God can mock her*
Rob: *says something professional about accepting donations for victims with a cheerful greeting*
EtomyB: ..........................................................................................
Rob: Hello?
EtomyB: Uh..... ROB????
Rob: Yes, I-
EtomyB: OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD!!!!! HUSBAND!!!! IS THERE ANY WAY FOR ME TO RECORD MY OWN PHONE CONVERSATION??? GET OVER HERE!!!!!!!!!!!
Rob: Um, so, about the-
EtomyB: GOD DAMMIT I AM TALKING TO MY BOYFRIEND RIGHT NOW!!!! HURRY UP!!!! (yeah, I refer to Rob as "my boyfriend" to my husband and non-Twi friends... INNER 13-YEAR-OLD)
Rob: Uh...
EtomyB (breathless): ROB!!!! Sorry, that's just how he knows you... Oh Jesus Christ on a cracker. Holy shit... Um... fuck. What's up?
Rob (undoubtedly chuckling): Um, not much, but really, we should talk about-
EtomyB: HOLY CRAP. Can you please laugh again??
Rob (more than a little creeped out): Are you drunk?
EtomyB: HANG ON, I just need to figure out how to record that and make it a ringtone... I mean, shit. shitshitshit.... Fuck, I mean... I love you.
Rob: You are drunk, aren't you?
EtomyB: I mean... I made a Stoli shirt.

*muffled conversation*

Brad Pitt: Hello, this is Brad Pitt. Maybe you would rather make a donation with me?
EtomyB: BRAAAAAAAAAAAAD!! You look like a douche with that dead animal on your chin. Can you put Rob back on? I really want to fu- I MEAN, GIVE HIM A... DONATION.
Brad Pitt: No, I don't think that will be possible...
EtomyB: COCKBLOCKER! I loved you in Inglourious Basterds, but your accent SUCKED ASS.
Brad Pitt: Miss, if you're not going to donate, I'll have to hang up.
EtomyB: I can't even... I don't know where my credit card is. Can you just tell Rob I love him, and we have the same phone? Okay? Because I think that means we are soulmates.
Brad Pitt: Uh, sure. Um... drink some water, honey. Have a good night.
EtomyB: DO YA LIKE DAGS???
Brad Pitt: What? Did you just do an impression of me as a Pikey?
EtomyB: .... I love you. But not as much as ROB!!
-line goes dead -

So, who wants to take my phone away?