This article is part of the SA Celebrity Stalker series.
Our unrelenting stargazers are always on the peep for an eyeful of celebrity, and today their gazing orbs captured some primo spots. Enjoy!
Saw Miley outside posh restaurant Naboo hocking big loogies all over the place. They were like big slimy owl pellets and my friend poked one with a stick, then we ran.
Bumped into Kony outside legendary New York hotspot Bith where the social media darling was having dinner with a much younger lady. Very courteous and posed for pictures with fans.
Saw that pube-faced Lothario heating things up in the freezer section of Ralphs. He was behind the bags of frozen corn and looking right at home with a sexy frost on his skin.
Spotted the hot-to-trot hottie stealing hearts on the dance floor, as well as phones and wallets. He could barely carry all the stuff he was stealing, and kept dropping things. Insatiable!
Bumped into a homeless man who rambled incoherently about genitals for roughly ten minutes like a maniac. Once I realized he was Robin Williams, I ran away to post this.
The leading lady was being led astray through Central Park by an out-of-control Bernese Mountain Dog. She was just along for the ride, being dragged like a ragdoll as the runaway hound flaunted its indomitable spirit.
That ol' silverfox is on his porch right now whittling away at a big ol' stick. 'Spect he's carvin' up something real pretty there. Daddy like!
Hunky leading man Karl Urban was being robbed by some local hoods, and begging me to call the police. Snapped some juicy pics of the distressed stud, but my phone was stolen too. No class, hoods!
Looks like he walked into wet cement while texting on his Google Glass, and got stuck as it hardened. He was pretending like it was nothing, but I could tell he was distressed. I left a bowl of water, which he lapped up.
The hangover star is currently chasing me and cussing up a storm after I clocked him on the back of the head with a ripe melon. I can practically smell his sweat. Charming!
it's hard to shake the feeling that I've always got five stars in this Grand Theft Auto known as life.
Now, inexplicably, season three is looming over us like some sort of dome. Season one's plot asked whether or not the town could get out from under the dome. Apparently the answer was "no". Season two asked "I guess we're really stuck, huh?" and the answer was "yup".
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