Every day, I come across my new ‘favourite thing on the internet’.
Yesterday, I found a video of racoon who was stealing food from a trash can, set to the Mission: Impossible theme tune.
The day before, I laughed endlessly at an illustration of a duck happy-slapping Donald Trump, because why not?
Today is no different. Today, I found a poem which I adore. Don’t get me wrong – I’m hardly a wordsmith, myself. (I’ve been trying to get my head around Dr Seuss’ Green Eggs and Ham for the best part of a decade.) But this poem just hit differently.
Bethy Squires penned a gorgeous, charming and – most importantly – vital ode to Robert Pattinson and the abundance of lies he has told in interviews throughout his career.
The verse begins with the time Robert told GQ of how he made pasta; burning his hands and blowing up a microwave in the process. Bethy continues to recite how Robert joked that the first time he went to a circus, he saw a clown die, during an interview with Today; down to when he pretended to being a drug dealer, using floppy discs to help import the narcotics.
All I’m saying is that William Shakespeare could never write as eloquently as this.
Robert has expressed that he often bends the truth slightly, during interviews, to help spice them up and to stop him from answering the same two questions over-and-over again by 392,934 journalists. (Yes, I am bitter because I didn’t manage to secure a slot on the The Batman junket.)
Previously, the Twilight star lied about his version of Bruce Wayne sounding like a pirate; he told Jimmy Kimmel that he was once a hand model; and that he once – ahem – pleasured a dog for a scene in Good Time.
At least I hope he was joking about that last one…