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Marisa Miller was walking around LA on Wedneandholyfuckingshit. Say what you want about her face, but can we just go ahead and agree that she has the sickest body on Earth? We can right? Good. Because I hate to bring this up now, but the demons I may or may not have summoned with the Ouija board I found in my grandma’s attic yesterday may or may not be asking for a human sacrifice, and hypothetically, if they existed of course, I wouldn’t want to give them Marisa Miller’s name since she’s so hot. So if anybody could text Kelly Clarkson and tell her to meet me at North Hills, I would appreciate it. Tell her that I’ll be the one with the lifetime supply of cupcakes that the city of Raleigh would like to present her. Then I’ll trap her you see.