She's out of my life

I've been in hiding for the last week because I'm absolutely devastated. The woman I love recently revealed that she is pregnant (and not by me). And now she is marrying the father of her child. I felt so strongly about love being in my grasp until I learned the news. I'm inconsolable. I don't even want to talk to my girlfriend. Thanks for breaking my heart, Gwyneth Paltrow.

In other news, with the holidays impending, the restaurant's music has shifted from the delightful Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra to the bevy of standard Christmas tunes. Selections range from the good (Paul McCartney's Simply Having a Wonderful Christmastime) to the bad (Christina Aguilera's The Christmas Song) and the bizarre (Wham's Last Christmas). Worst of all, however, is Mariah Carey's All I Want for Christmas Is You. Just the sound of it makes me want to tell small children that Santa contracted the ebola virus and dropped dead.

Tonight I'm seeing Return of the King and the anticipation is killing me. However, this bitch has put me in a bad mood by dismissing the film in a shoddy, unilateral review that contains the grandiloquence I would expect from such a fifth-rate Web site. I'd have no qualms with a qualified critic offering a valid theory on the film's flaws, but for this grammatically inept malcontent to offer a piddling, invalid critique is just...wrong. Let's just say the phrase, "Don't even get me started on talking Orcs..." probably won't make the "Best of Reviews" section in the critics circles, you trollish, lonely moron. Learn to write. What the f*ck is Eclipse Magazine, anyway? I've read more riveting stories in the MU Student News.