Totally Crushed Out

Alright. It's time I admit it. My love for Tina Fey knows no boundaries.

Maybe it's the thing I've always had for girls who wear glasses. Or are quick-witted and sardonic. Or are smarter than me. Or would no doubt openly mock my "performance," even as I tirelessly went about the act of bringing her to orgasm. Oh, for just an hour to have my mouth parked between those thighs. I'd give a year of my life. Possibly two. But I digress.

All I know is this: Even though she's happily "involved," and pregnant with another guy's baby, and has referred all my fan mail to the FBI, in the end, Ms. Fey will succumb to my gentle Irish charms. Maybe.