Category Archives: doin the grown-up

dear dr. drew: a love letter.

i'd love to see YOUR loveline, doctor. HAW HAW HAW!

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.

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Dear Mr. President:

you really need to stop doing this to me.

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