In the name of Allah, most Gracious, most Merciful.
Yes, it's still the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show marathon on Shadowplay TV. I don't think I want to sing live on the fashion show. Not that they'll ever ask me to: they'll probably just get Lady Gaga or something. Be my guest. I'm too lazy to travel to the stinking city just for one appearance... urgh, I HATE the city. Yeah, I know I'm not going to let you travel alone, but I don't even want to see the show live as a spectator. What? You want me to see the show live? Are you mad? I'm not the smartest person in the world, but I'm not dumb enough to be caught on camera ogling half-naked girls in the same room as my wife! No, thank you. I'll just wait for you in the lobby. Maybe there'll be a place to plug in my laptop so I can play Krush, Kill and Destroy. The only reason I would ever sing at that show is because of you, and we're not even married yet. And if I do, then I'll be blindfolded: you're going to have to hold my hand all the time. Forget it! I'll be in the lobby nursing the baby.
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