I honestly think Abigail Ratchford is trying to summon spontaneous combustion with this LiveRich Media video. The whole thing is like a step-by-step move taken from a playbook that’s half Kama Sutra and half Necronomicon. My body wasn’t built for this sort of strain. I get tired just from watching people run marathons. Actually, I get worn out just knowing I have a friend who replaced “Sunday Funday” with “Leg Day.”
Really, though, she starts in black lingerie with a sportscar, then moves onto In-N-Out and white lingerie, and finally wraps up this bold cardiac threat with sucking down bottles of (assumedly) cold beer in some mansion hot tub when she’s not pouring them on herself. If there was a moment where she paused, looked directly at the camera, and sultrily whispered, “Hey, I think it’s dumb they canceled Firefly all those years ago and I too haven’t been able to get over it. Also, do you think a person can really experience anything objectively?”, my uneducated guess is that I would burst into flames like the Phoenix Force on acid.
Ugh, this video wrecked my heart so bad. I hope you’re happy, Abigail Ratchford. My life expectancy used to be 78 years old, give or take. Now I only have, like, 14 minutes.