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To Put It Bluntly

Dear James Blunt, I remember the first time I saw you. It was an early morning in my small, stuffy apartment. I heard your voice calling from the living room, and I saw that gorgeous, angular, British-boy face. You stood on the beach in the "You're Beautiful" video on VH-1, and all you wanted was my heart. And I gave it to you. And now, jackass, I want it back. I allowed you to peel my panties right off with your sweet, earnest tenor and you went and peeled them—along with those of every middle-aged woman in the United States! I feel so used. I will be at your concert this Monday to retrieve them, because the panties and the proverbial yank from your paws are worth the $29 ticket and trip to the Nokia Theatre at 1001 Performance Place in Grand Prairie. Others who feel similarly violated can call 972-854-9111 or visit
Mon., May 8


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