I’m sorry…please don’t be angry. I realise there’s a fondness in your hearts for Adam Brody – Seth was quirky and cute and smart and articulate and gawky hot all at the same time. Similarly, Adam’s relationship with Rachel Bilson was the stuff of teenybop wet dreams. The point is – I get it. I get the nostalgia, I get the loyalty.
But there is a certain point when it has to stop. Everyone has a line. Your line might be way further out than my line. I’m a shallow petty bitch, my line is probably much too close for to be kind. But I draw the line at this moustache. I draw the line at this relic of 70s nasty ass porn stretched across his clammy face. I draw the line at deliberately looking pervy. And I especially draw the line at looking pervy for what looks like an Eastern Europe Mail Order flavour of the moment.
Apparently it’s the same girl he was rollin" around with the other day.
And maybe not such a good influence? There’s a certain glassy look about his eyes, a certain way he’s perspiring that screams not so much of humidity but perhaps of something more sinister – Jonathan Rhys Myers used to look like this when he was jonesin’ for a bump.