Get this straight: Tyler Faith does not love you. She only loves me. And possibly Wankus, her fiancee.Even though you might get your name picked out of a hat this weekend at the West Palm Beach club Bada Bing and find yourself chauffered behind the wheel of a large automobile with Faith right beside you, heading off to "a FIVE STAR dinner at one of Southern Florida's top cuisines", understand that she doesn't love you. She only loves me. And that guy Wankus.
Despite the fact that every time between February 9 and 11 that you pay an admission fee at the club on Okeechobee Road your name is entered in the Win a Date with Tyler Faith contest, you need to be aware that your devotion does not create a similar devotion in 2005 Nightmoves Performer of the Year Faith. Her devotion is entirely to me, some person named Wankus, and Jesus Christ, Our Lord.
Even as a small retinue of videographers trails you into the VIP area of the South Beach hotspot Klub where you and Tyler will drink all night for free, understand that if Requited Love was the cup from which you quaff, it would have a little hole in it, because Tyler Faith does not love you. She only loves me, her roommate Wankus, Our Lord Jesus Christ, and 1980 U.S. Olympic hockey player Mike Eruzione.
When, at the end of the evening, you arrive home alone, save for your memories and video documentation of your time with Tyler, don't forget that the last thing Tyler said to you was not "I love you" but instead "I had a wicked good time, kid."
Because Tyler Faith only loves me, and that douche Wankus, and fuckin' gettin' plastid at the Kowloon, and the Hilltop fuckin' Steakhouse, and Jim Craig when he's not drunk, and Danny Ainge even though he's a Mormon, and the Ted Williams tunnel, and Route 128 when it's dark outside, and Our Lord Jesus Christ.
Previously: Sorry Fellas, She's Engaged
See also: Tyler Faith
posted by Gram the Man
at
Tuesday, February 07, 2006 
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