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Part 1: WHAT THE FUCK, WILLIAM SHATNER?!

So recently I tweeted that I needed William Shatner to come to my house in order to save my marriage.  I wasn’t very detailed on the whole thing because honestly these are the kind of personal marital matters that you don’t air on twitter.  Then someone pointed out that William Shatner is actually on twitter so I started contacting him directly.  An exact re-enactment of my tweets:

“Okay, don’t ask why but I need to get William Shatner to come to my house asap.

“Seriously, does anyone know him? My marriage is in peril.

“Dear @WilliamShatner: I need you to come to my house to save my marriage. No sex involved.”

“Unless you *want* to have sex. Which is totally fine.”

“But not with me though because I’m married. Please bring your own hooker.”

“BYOH”

“Oh my God, what am I saying? I am the worst hostess ever. I will totally provide the hooker if you just come to dinner.”

“I need to know your preferences though or else I’ll just default to hot Asian cheerleader.”

Fuck.  Dear @WilliamShatner.  Please ignore my last several tweets.  I’m a little drunk.  And dangerously close to paying too much for travel.”

“Please come to my house and save me from myself.”

“There may or may not be hookers here.”

“Please give me a sign.”

And then absolutely nothing happened for two weeks on Shatner’s end.  On our end Victor and I had a series of arguments, I maimed a cat (in my head) because of stress, we got a bomb threat and Victor got stabbed right after he said something about how if I was more “relevant” William Shatner would have responded to me (those last two things are unrelated but I like to group them because it makes William Shatner sound more responsible for destroying my marriage).  And honestly, I was fine.  William Shatner didn’t respond and I didn’t send him dead hamsters in the mail and it was all very civilized and I even responded to a Shatner fan in my advice column about the rules of loving the Shat.  Then today I thought I should totally send Bill a link to my post about his awesomeness so I went into twitter and noticed that I was no longer following him for some strange  reason.  ‘Surely a twitter glitch’, I thought.  I never unfollow anyone.  Too lazy for that.  And that’s when I discovered something.

WILLIAM SHATNER HAD BLOCKED ME.

William Shatner is too good for you

Fuckin’ A, y’all.  I’m not even kidding.  Like, he had to go out of his way to find me and block me  to keep me from being able to read about how he just recorded a Christmas song. I NEED TO KNOW THAT SHIT, BILL.

Honestly, it’s a little strange and I don’t know what to do with these emotions because no one has ever blocked me before (that I know of) and I’ve never blocked anyone (except for when I preemptively blocked Oprah but she knows why) and honestly I was a little shocked and when Victor came in and I had to admit that his idol had blocked me I actually had a single teardrop run down my face and it was mostly allergies but some of it was pain.  Then Victor was all “Meh.  Probably heard we spent too much on travel” and I’m all “THAT’S WHAT I WARNED HIM WOULD HAPPEN” and then Victor walked away very smugly and now I kind of do want to stab him and this time it totally will be William Shatners fault.  Conclusion:  William Shatner should be arrested for attempted murder.

PS.  I might be overreacting because I did have a similar reaction earlier this week when Robert Scoble unfollowed me for being not smart enough and I sent out a series of irrational tweets alternatingly proclaiming my love for Robert Scoble and also accusing him of murdering rabbits and purposely destroying my very spirit and then the next day I realized that he was actually still following me after all.  *Awkward.*  But this is totally different because I’m not overreacting this time and William Shatner is the anti-Christ kind of hurt my feelings.  This is probably exactly how Oprah felt.  Except that Oprah actually deserved it.

PPS.  Ow, Bill.  Ow.

Comment of the day: It was the Asian cheerleader…he knew you weren’t a real fan or you would have picked the right kind of hooker. ~ a

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