An incomplete list of reasons why Carly Rae Jepsen finds it hard to look right at you, baby  

Saturday, July 14, 2012

  • You're the sun, baby.
  • You're standing next to the Ark of the Covenant, baby.
  • You're Bigfoot, baby.
  • You're burning magnesium, baby.
  • You're a Gorgon, baby.
  • I have macular degeneration, baby.
  • You're a sensitive, top-secret document, and I don't have the necessary clearance, baby.
  • I don't want to collapse your wavefunction and force you out of superposition and into one of the various states you're currently occupying, baby.
  • You're a Magic Eye picture, baby.
  • You're wearing your father's cloak of invisibility, baby.
  • You're made of dark matter, and the only way I know you exist is by observing your gravitational interactions with other objects, baby.
  • You're a bloodthirsty paparazzo, and I don't want to end up in a tabloid, baby.
  • Because without my ruby-quartz glasses, you'd be exposed to the focused totality of my optic beams, baby.
  • You're only detectable in the nanoseconds following a high-energy particle collision, baby.
  • You're an elder god from a dimension beyond human comprehension, only entering ours when the stars are right, and your eldritch visage may drive me to the very brink of madness, baby.
  • You're to my left, baby.

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