Now, I’ve got another chance to talk about ol’ Amy. It’s so fun.

Well, well, well. I suppose a woman must have her loverboy, just can’t get enough of Blake’s sweet, sexy stuff. Fatal attraction? Is she out of her mind? But, sometimes it’s like that. You break up with your honey lovin’ man, you’re through with him for good, you toss his shyte out the house, tell him to go back to his mama and you never want to see him again. One day you’re walking somewhere and there he is. Whim, bam, boom! All those old juicy, hot, lovin’ feelings start bubbling up and suddenly you’re in his arms, wrapped in sweet juicy maleness. Girls, ain’t that a comforting feeling? You know what I’m talkin’ about. Can’t get enough of that man. He’s THE ONE. The only one to make you feel that certain feeling: a certain look in his eyes, a certain smile on his lips, his male musk. It takes a man to make a woman feel like a real woman. Some might argue that point, but, honey, it’s true.

Awright, let’s cut the crap. Amy needs to move on. Sign on with a new label. Update her sound, get some new clothes (K-mart selling shiny fake silk tops, 2 for $10.00–get ‘em while they’re hot!). I think Amy could realize some new potential for herself, if only . . .