Friday, February 13, 2009

Will You Be My Valentine, Tim Te...

You think I'm gonna say Tebow. You think I'm going to dedicate this Valentine to Timothy Richard Tebow, the greatest quarterback to ever walk the earth, the Heisman Trophy winning God of a Man who even had a tree made in his likeness. You assume, due to my blatant Gator Homerism, that I'll pick the two-time Maxwell Award winner as my Valentine, and that I'll talk about how I'd first go to church with him, even though I haven't been to a church for something other than a wedding or funeral EVER, because I know that's what he likes to do, and I'll want to be trusted by him.

Then, you imagine that I'll take last year's SEC Athlete of the Year out to a nice post-church lunch, something extra heavy, like chicken-fried turducken, grits and gravy, something to make Mr. 2007 Davey O'Brien winner extra drowsy, so drowsy that he doesn't notice the Rophynol I put in his sweet tea. Then you presume I'll ask Mr. Two-time national champion back to my place for some "scripture readings" that he'll be too dazed to say no to.

Then you assume that, for good measure, I'll ask him to show me some "tackle-breaking maneuvers" while I try to grope his masculine body. From there, you figure, when the Roofies have him passed out and I've carried him safely to my apartment, I'd tear off his clothes, button by button, prolonging the excitement. Then, when you'd assume that I can't take the teasing any longer, I'd make passionate, sweet love to his prone body, breathing in his musky scent and tasting the sweet nectar of his perspiration.

And you even think that, after sex, I'd cut off a lock of Tebow's hair, so I can have something to remember him by, and immediately place it in my wallet, as a souvenir of this glorious non-consensual tryst. But then you'd assume that a lock of hair wouldn't be enough, so I'd attempt to take some skin samples, shave off some of his leg hair, and finally settle with cutting off a toe before dropping him off, bleeding, on his doorstep and speeding away before his friends or family could make out my car's license plate, which may or may not have been blacked out anyways.

Yeah, you'd think that, wouldn't you? You think that I'm sooo predictable, that all I think about is Tim Tebow and his touchdowns, and his awards, and his national championships, and his muscles, and his scent and his taste.

But no. I'm no homosexual. I am NO GAY. No homo here. My bumhole is Exit Only folks! I don't think of men that way. That shit is gross. Who would think of dudes doing each other? Not me. No gay stuff for Mr. GHABB,Y, no siree. Gross. Icky. Eww.

No, my Valentine goes to the lovely and talented Kristen Bell:

Kristen Bell, you are an attractive member of the female human species. I very much enjoyed you on the show Veronica Mars, which both portrayed you as an empowered woman, and had you walk around in skimpy outfits. Were I not embroiled in a long-term relationship, I'd very much like to have heterosexual sex with you, by sticking my penis in your vagina repeatedly, thrusting mightily like heterosexual thrusters do. You would love it Kristen Bell, we would have fantastic man-on-woman intercourse.

Just one request though, before we have hot hetero action: I've got this jersey...


HZMLS said...

stick your penis just in her vagina huh?

Anonymous said...

you know what i think? you're trying too hard to act straight. trying too hard to cover up your overwhelming gayness. >__<