On a vast range of levels, it’s very hard for me to not relate to this one.
There are so many times when we have people’s lives shoved all up in our faces that they sort of become surrogate parts of our circle of friends. Maybe even, in some extreme cases, the only friends that make up that circle, but I think that’s a post for another day after a long session on a fainting couch with another human being sitting adjacent to me with readers on the end of their nose and a pad of paper I’m convinced they’re playing tic-tac-toe on instead of listening to all of my personalities tell them the most important things about…what the fuck am I talking about?!
There’s a myriad of ‘qualified celebs’ these days. I blame that on the internet. Thanks, internet.
Ashley & Lyle? Well they’re the kind of celeb that, in the non-creepiest way some can cushion the moment right before they say something creepy, I’d want to bring cartons of ice cream, flashlights, and sock puppets over to their place to re-create Good Burger to ease the pain of a nasty breakup. (Mostly because it’s been proven to me that Ashley suffers from a similar condition to me, in that we both vomit really hilariously uncomfortable things from our face holes in conversation. Exhibit A.
The gals sum up who they are and what they’re doing with the interwebs best in their bio:
“Ashley and Lyle started writing #hotmessmoves as a way to process their feelings about life. They dedicate each episode to all 20-something hot messes in New York City and all over the world.”
I highly suggest following them on Tumblr, subscribing to them on YouTube (word on the street is they’re in the throes of filming a whole chunk of new episodes…so duh.), following them on Twitter, and liking the #hotmessmoves Facebook page.
And when I highly suggest something, it’s not just because I’m almost six feet tall. I mean it.
I mean it with ever square inch of this tall, dark and handsome, meatsack I call a body.