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As soon as I think I’m over Megan Fox she shows up to the Toronto International Film Festival to promote Passion Play in this dress. Is it because she wants to torture me, is that it? I guess the homeless guy’s heart I sent to her didn’t prove my love. Or maybe I killed the wrong homeless guy. I assumed since he was talking to a mailbox about Jesus that he was enlightened spiritually. Maybe I need some sort of screening process, but I don’t know how effective that would be. Usually when I dangle a cheeseburger by a string in front of them, it’s hard to tell if they’re just saying what I want to hear. Whatever happened to honesty?