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Last night I dreamt that I was a singer and Michael Vartan was my boyfriend. I'd entered some sort of singing competition and I was convinced that I was going to win but I didn't even make the top 3. Then this old man (who looked suspiciously like Frank Butcher from Eastenders) took me into another room and told me that if I went to the Temple of Doom and got a Livejournal for him then he would give me this magic dust that would make all my dreams come true

Cut to Michael and I charging around some dusty old caves and riding in a mine cart.

Woke up before I could get back home and claim my reward

Who says my head is a wierd place?

Hmm...I may need to add Michael Vartan to my list of pretty men. I'm SO not a Sydney/Vaughn shipper but I love Michael in other things
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