Over the weekend I had a dream about Spencer Pratt. He owned a rat named Spencer II, and he put it in my hair. And I could feel it clawing down my scalp and down the back of my neck and into my dress and then I woke up and I was all scrunched up and shuddering because it was so gross. And then I laughed, because the idea of Spencer Pratt owning a rat and naming it Spencer II is kind of awesome. Way to go, subconscious! Thanks for the good times. But the thing is, I think Spencer would be happie....
GoFugYourself
