It's much like a regular hangover, you wake up, your head aches, your body feels broken, you want to throw up and you're wondering if you're straight trippin' or if the events of the day before really actually happened. Unfortunately, they did. But instead of waking up next to a handsome stranger whose name you're frantically trying to remember, with an MJ hangover, you wake up alone and lonely. The only thing keeping you company is the sad, empty realization that yes, Michael Jackson is dead and when you acknowledge that, you just want to close your eyes and fall back asleep, hoping to wake up from this most heinous of nightmares. You also want a tall, cold Caesar because fuck it if that miracle beverage doesn't help you get over the ten thousand drinks you consumed the night before.
On this most difficult of mornings, Paul Rudd is the Caesar for my MJ Hangover....
Could he be any more adorable?
These are recent pictures of The Rudd and The Reese on set of their upcoming movie, a James L. Brooks film that is untitled at present. Might I suggest Rainbows, Unicorns and a Box of Purring Kittens as the title? Because all those things are what immediately spring to mind when I think of Paul Rudd. Life is just better with Paul Rudd in it. When you're drowning in an ocean of shit, Paul Rudd is the lifeline that keeps you from going under. Paul Rudd is the chicken soup when you're sick with the flu, the warm fireplace on a cold winter's night.
Because an MJ Hangover is one of great intensity, I've included my absolute most favourite Paul Rudd picture of all time below. If there was ever a day I needed this, it is today.
Could you imagine waking up to this? I would never get out of bed. Ever. Shit, I didn't wake up to this today but I still might not get out of bed. That's a lie, my pool is calling and those white wine spritzers aren't going to drink themselves.
Could you imagine waking up to this? I would never get out of bed. Ever. Shit, I didn't wake up to this today but I still might not get out of bed. That's a lie, my pool is calling and those white wine spritzers aren't going to drink themselves.
Thank you, Paul Rudd for making today suck just a little less.
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