I can’t leave it alone. It’s like crack to me. I’m like a crack whore who’s just had a long stint in forced rehab. Add to that the fact that my motherly instincts kicked in as soon as I heard Katie was dating Tommy and you have something that’s completely addictively irresistible happening right now.
I’ve scanned the internet and there’s clearly not enough information available to satisfy my habit, or to quench my thirst. I need to see pictures of Katie crying on Nicole Kidman’s shoulder and “Niccers” (as I like to call her) holding Katie in her arms like she was her own lost daughter.
And, I need to see pictures of Suri in a pair of Birkenstock sandals. No more high heels for you kiddo!
I will admit that (perhaps) Tommy has talent. If I have a weak moment or I’m really tired and you’re badgering me so I’ll say it just to shut you up so I can sleep. Much like when my darling daughter decides to wake me in the middle of the night to tell me she thinks that she’s turning into a psychopath simply because she scratched off a scab on her scalp making herself bleed. Much like that.
But you see at the heart of this absolute unhealthy obsession I’ve had with the whole TomKat thing is my abnormally large suspicion of Scientology and the sheer fact that it’s allowed to masquerade as a religion. If you don’t believe things are crazy in their quarters you need search Youtube for an official Scientology video showing Tommy as he is awarded for being the new Jesus-Ron-Messiah-thing and you will, like I did, come to know the more crazy side of Tommy.
I’m on team Katie in case you didn’t get it already.
I’m just saying.
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