Eds. Note: This is the ninth installment of our ongoing series of guest appearances by cultural heavyweights.
Oh, well, well well, what have we here?
Oh, well, well well, what have we here?
It looks like Dawson Leery--the oldest American teenager since Ralph Macchio's 37 year old twig-dick was waxing Dame Elizabeth Shue on and off back in 1984.
And Pacey has one thing to say to you:
Get your manicured hands, gingivitis hairline, Suvari-esque forehead and "ahh shucks Mr. Potter, I'd never ask for a sloppy handjob from your only daughter in the passenger seat of a '94 Honda Civic after studying late for our AP European History class" away from the girl. And step your bitch ass to Pacey Witter. Because it's time for your $5 Footlong of pain, friend.
It's just not enough for you to be the smartest, most sensitive human without a vagina (allegedly) in Capeside. You apparently also feel the need to biblically recline with the only non-blonde I've ever loved. And by love, I mean shamelessly masturbated to while listening to side two of ELO's Eldorado, A Symphony with my booze-wrecked cop father and four sibs watching Ally McBeal in the next room.
Now that's love.
And that's what you're messing with, homeboy.
I'll cut you.
Oh, wait, I get to take the sensitive blonde chipmunk instead? Well thanks a fucking million, partner. That's like offering me a goddamn Necco while you suck down a bag of Skittles Crazy Cores right in front of me.
You and Joey are Soulmates? Please. That $2 sperm sponge will mount the first multimillionaire, bat-shit crazy Scientologist movie star that holds a door for her. Mark Pacey's word.
This is really all about Miss Jacobs robbing my fragile flower Freshman year, right?
Well you know what, you can have her. Just send me over my true heart. My one and only. My Joey "Holy Dick Don't Confuse Me With Monica, Harry or Colonel " Potter.
And then I can get you a three episode turn on Fringe and/or Diane Kruger.
Ball's in your court, Dawson.
And I don't want to wait.
Signed,
Pacey