In her defense, Meredith Grey has a lot on her plate. She's a surgical intern at the least professional hospital outside of Clown Island, which is an island I just invented populated entirely by clowns. Her mom has Alzheimer's, on top of being a super-powered hyper-bitch. Making things even worse, Meredith Grey lives with Katherine Heigel, which, let's face it, can't be good for one's body image. That being said, I have to think I'm just better put together than Meredith Grey when she goes around saying things like "hating [Patrick Dempsey] is the most exhausting thing ..." Because, at least from my perspective, wishing pain on Patrick Dempsey is not only not exhausting, it's invigorating.
This is a blog I've created about how much pleasure I get from hating Patrick Dempsey, and other horrible things foisted on me by the popularity of Grey's Anatomy, a show that, were it a neurosurgeon, would probably insist on operating on patients by leering inappropriately at the surgical intern I'm birddogging to make myself feel better about my horrible marriage, all the while hoping that whatever tumors may have attached themselves to said patient's brain-stem are just magically charmed off because I haven't shaved in exactly two and a half days and I'll be damned if it's not a flattering look for me.
Seriously, I don't know how Patrick Dempsey sleeps at night.
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