Oh, Munnster, the joy you bring to the world just by walking around in it! You’re like a beautiful flower blooming in an abandoned lot full of weeds and used syringes, the faint flint of sunshine that pierces the clouds of nuclear winter, or that glorious moment of relief after my morning wood goes away and I can finally pee. You are my libido’s Alpha as surely as Ruth Bader Ginsburg is its Omega.
I swear to God, I have never wanted to manipulate a zipper so much in my entire life. It’s like every zipper I’ve ever unzipped has just been prelude to this one.
Granted, it kinda sucks that you keep flying off to do all these guest-spots, photoshoots, and industry shindigs, ’cause it keeps you from your Attack of the Show hosting duties. But I can forgive, because (a) you never dress like this on the show, and (b) AOTS tends to snag fill-in hosts like Californication‘s Eva Amurri:
…or Playboy’s Sara Jean Underwood:
…so I’m never completely lonely. Bless you, Ms. Olivia Munn. You are a great American, a fine human being, a talented hostess, and one amazing P of A.
