POP FICTION

I’m just coming out of an icing induced coma and it’s all Emily Maynard’s fault.

Last night I spent 3 hours of my life watching the final steps of her journey unfold on national television & all I have to show for it is three empty cans of Betty Crocker icing.

For those of ya’ll who don’t know—and this doesn’t count as a spoiler because you’ve had over 10 hours to watch it for yourselves—Emily picks Jef! And Jef picks Emily. And Ricki picks Monkey.

There is a scary huge Neil Lane sparkler & a heartbroken European race car driver somewhere in all of that, but you get the gist of it.

Yep. Jef & Emily are now engaged & have announced their plans to travel to Africa together & get married in an authentic village ceremony & adopt an entire orphanage of babies.

Ugh I wish. Everything except the Africa trip is a lie okay. Don’t believe me. It’s the icing talking.

How are we feeling about the outcome? You know me—I’m still hoping Sean Lowe will show up in the African wilderness & save Emily from a lion & whisk her away to a place where there is cable TV and Starbucks.

But if that isn’t an option then whatever. I guess Jef was the obvious choice.

Congrats to the happy couple & I’m going to need more icing if I ever plan to make it through this day.

Did I say icing? I meant—well yeah I meant icing.