The other day Old Man Bobby and I were listening to some Sketching in Stereo and talking about our buddies from the band. I was shocked to find that Rob had been hit by a cab in NYC. I didn’t even know Rob was in NYC! Old Man Bobby promised Rob was OK, and went on to ask if Charlie’s troubles were over. Neither of us knew. (We’re thinking of you Chaaaarrrlieee!)

Imagine my surprise when the very next day I read on Letters to Twilight that Robert Pattinson had been hit by a NYC cab. What a coinci–! My thought process went something like this: “Son of a bitch! Old Man Bobby let me go on and on about Rockstar Rob and didn’t tell me he was talking about RPattz! How embarrassing! I’m glad it was just us in the car.”

So later I told him I had a bone to pick. The use of the word Bone always gets his attention, naturally. When he caught on to my tone he got a little nervous. I chastised him for letting me go on and on about Rockstar Rob like that. He had no idea what I was talking about. I reminded him we had been talking about Sketching in Stereo, then he told me about Rob, and then we started talking about Charlie, and I asked him what part of that conversation was supposed to clue me in that he was talking about RPattz. Warn a girl when your mental train jumps the tracks for crying out loud!

He was embarrassed enough that I didn’t even bring up the fact that he had referred to Robert Pattinson simply as Rob AND expected me to follow along. Not as Your Rob. Not as Rob Pattinson. Not as RPattz. Not even as The Forehead, as he normally does. Just Rob. Anyone know how to spot a Unicorn in camouflage?

BTW, I’m glad you’re OK Rob! Both of you!

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