Parisian Painkiller

Dear Tinkerbell,

I have heard from, like, thousands of guys that I’m like a drug. This is not news. Apparently, I make them feel all warm and fuzzy inside and am totally addictive. Until now, this has only been coming from smokin’ hot guys with abs you could grate cheese on. But it has recently come to my attention that this fact has been confirmed by a bunch of weasely little nerds from Canada. It turns out that the sight of me eased the pain of poor, little wounded mice…. just like highly-addictive painkillers! In a recent study conducted at McGill University, a bunch of scientists found out that male mice licked their wounds less when in the presence of a cardboard cut-out of moi! The girl mice didn’t feel any better when I was around, but it’s probably just because they are jealous of me because I’m hot and their boyfriends want me.

For those with PhotoCrank.

For the haters that don't.

Someone mentioned something about how pain takes a backseat to more important survival instincts during stress and that they thought the boy mice were just stressed out because they thought I was a predator. Damn right, bitches…and I’m on the prowl. Meow!




Paris
xoxo