This is a complete and utter non-story, but it involves the lovely and talented Erin Pageviews, and a blogger’s gotta eat. And so, a mainstream media article footnote is a blogosphere headline: ladies and gentlemen, I know the breakfast location of Erin Andrews!
Returning home this weekend will allow Andrews to spend time with her family, her golden retriever and, of course, hit a couple of her favorite spots – La Teresita and Village Inn.
“I always go to Village Inn for breakfast with my dad Steve,” she said. “I crush the French toast, scrambled eggs and bacon. I’m totally excited for that.”
Oh man. I’m so there. I hope the Village Inn parking lot has wi-fi. And a shady spot where I can park a windowless van without drawing too much attention.
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I’ve got some bacon she can crush.
Erin crushes the toast, I spank the sausage.
Clearly, the stars are aligned. CALL ME!
Matt, just park in Handicapped with the other stalkers, but back in so you have the operational advantage.
I’d love to see her crush a French tickler, especially if I was wearing it.
“Erin Andrew’s Stuffed French Toast With Creamy Whipped Topping” would make a great Fantasy team name.
Test.
trying to change your avatar, Matt? Shit’s impossible.
A test? no one said there’d be a test.
Is said french toast crushed between her legs? Because that changes everything.
/getting desperate here
Suddenly I find myself craving a banana.
When I say “craving a banana”, of course, I mean “craving the sweet embrace of an under-aged Philipina crack whore dressed like Erin Andrews dressed like a banana.”
@wwsm: you have a Carmen Miranda fetish, too, huh?
@was:
that’s one of my tamer fetishes involving women from impoverished nations.
I prefer to call it “freedom toast” but then again, I’m a patriot.
OK, serious question. There is only one La Teresita but there are two Village Inns. Did she say which one? I sniffed around one of the parking lots but didn’t smell anything sexy. Must be the southern one.
Day late on this one, but +1 Merk.