"Look into my eyes, and behold the death of joy."
I’ve always wondered about K-Stew. No matter what she’s doing, from Comic-Con appearances to pretending to avoid the paparazzi, she just has this look about her. A look that says “I’m a hopelessly embittered wannabe Women’s Studies drop-out who willingly trades on my modest attractiveness but resents every nanosecond of it.” And in interviews, she doesn’t do anything to dispel that impression.
Now, thanks to Robert Pattinson, we know why. He’s admitted that he and Bella are in some sort of extra-friendly personal entanglement that some would loosely categorize as “dating” and laughingly describe as “heterosexual”:
"Yes, that's lovely, dear. Now could you bugger off and find me a nice, fresh penis? That's a good girl."
So what does that have to do with anything, you ask? Well, first, quit asking fucking questions while I’m talking here, you insufferable cockbite. Second, it ties into another revelation that Pattinson dropped on us earlier in the week:
R-Patz demonstrates the only way he can truly be comfortable in a room with hot, naked chicks.
Put two and two together and you get the clear idea that Kristen doesn’t leave much room in her budget for tampons and gyno appointments. She’s as smooth down there as a Brazilian Barbie. There is no room at the inn, I guess is what I’m saying.
So if you were a genital-free twenty year-old, secretly dating a down-low dandy right out of the cast of Dangerous Liasons, and your sole achievement in life was embodying the spirit of a crypto-Mormon vampire groupie who likes a little wolf dick on the side, how would you look?
Yeah, pretty much.