Seriously, don't call me

Dear CNN.com,
I have about 8 million things to do. I don't have time to be writing this blog entry. But we need to talk.

Look, I'm all for free flow of information and blah blah blah. But sometimes? You should keep certain stories to your damn selves. Stories that will do nothing but terrify and exacerbate an already legendary anxiety disorder. Stories like this one.

I already live in fear of my stove (it's GAS, people, gas-there is a flame involved), my car (I know, it's been a year since Big Red but I still can't adjust to the fact that not all cars have parts that will literally fall off in your hand or explode while you're going 70 on the Beltway), and my Rocket Dog sneakers (the bottoms are SO SLIPPERY). I do not need another thing in my apartment/life to fear.

Love,
Jenn

PS-Also, what happened to Bill Hemmer? I know he was on tv and not really on the website, but still. Why did you guys lose him to Fox? He was dreamy, and I can't watch Fox because, well, it goes against all of my principles (i.e. "don't pay attention to crazy people"). Unless I'm watching O'Reilly. Gotta keep that heart rate up, and nothing gets me going like the utter lack of spin that man dishes out.