Something strange is happening. It's upsetting. I guess it's an occupational hazard. Jamie Biscuits is giving me "the feelings". Not the feelings you get when you 'accidentally' sit on the jet part of a jacuzzi, but...you know. Hearts may have been doodled. Screenshots of his face might have been taken and used as wallpaper. I wish to sit on a sofa and watch Free Willy with him and perhaps let him hold me when I become distressed during the more intense moments of Willy's journey. Also I sense that he'd be happy to pause the film periodically so that we could both scream "WILLY!" and wheeze hysterically. In short, he turns me into an eight year old. Fuck you, L'Oreal Youth Code. Jamie Biscuits is doing your job now.
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