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Bradley Cooper and my vagina

Remember when I was on the Katie Couric show?  I know, it’s fuzzy for me too, but it happened.

It was the first Katie show she ever taped, and I sat on my white corner seat after falling almost completely on Katie Couric because her producers insisted that I wear heels.

Me and Katie. She's just as sweet as you would imagine in real life. And so tiny I could carry her around in my bra like a kangaroo baby.

Soon afterward, Bradley Cooper sat on that exact same stage.  And then he planted his face deeply into the same pillowed seat that had so recently supported my vagina.

Academy-award nominated actor with his face where my butt was.

This means that my vagina has one degree of separation from Bradley Cooper.  It’s like the Kevin Bacon game, except that it’s Bradley Cooper’s nose and my lady-garden.

Which, mathematically speaking, means that the Hangover II cocaine-monkey is just two degrees of separation from my vagina.  Which I suspect is illegal in Texas.  But totally worth it.

Honestly. The man cannot stay vertical.

This is all going on my resumé.

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