as i sit here watching you talk to a bunch of kids who had babies, i kind of can’t help myself. it’s emotional porn, the way you spread your caring around, how you caress those on the stage with the softness of your voice but put a little bass in it when someone decides to get loud and wrong. the way you lean in and peer into the center of someone’s eyes when they speak. the way you listen. like, really, really listen. sigh. you speak to that need in me, the unscratchable itch that screams “OMFG I DON’T CARE ABOUT WHATEVER SPORT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT RIGHT NOW. I JUST NEED TO TELL YOU ABOUT MY DAY, CAN I FUCKING DO THAT, PLEASE?!” you are the human embodiment of a shopping spree, a walking bowl of chocolate covered winning lottery tickets dipped in good dreams and free foot rubs. just win. just so full of win.
and beyond the emo shit, can we talk about how u have the nerve, the unabashed gall to be fine on top of all that?! that HAIR!! we’ve already established that i love me a gray headed man, but to know that that gray hair is covering one of the smartest brains that ive been privy too in the world of reality tv just sends me into a hormonal frenzy. i just wanna strip butt ass nekkid and shrink myself down and roll around in your follicles. then i want to make myself normal size again and lay on your therapist’s couch and (THE REMAINDER OF THIS SENTENCE HAS BEEN CENSORED FOR THE SAKE OF THE CHILDREN). then when we wake up in the morning, all bukkid nekkid in the middle of a meadow, our bodies lightly covered with dew, picking the rest of the M&Ms out of our orifices, we’d look into each other’s eyes and you’d say, “tell me about your feelings, darling,” and i’d say, “oh, doctor drew, i feel LIKE I NEED TO TAP THAT ASS ONE MO TIME.”
in conclusion, if you ask me, dr. drew, i’m ready.
ps – and he has porn star nipples, too?! I CANT TAKE IT!!