Hi. I’m in love with you.

I’ve been watching you for years, wanting you, needing you. I remember when I first saw you, it was 5yrs ago. Do you remember? I was finishing my final year of school and you were a townie on that really great (bad) Dawson’s Creek spinoff Young Americans. You stepped onto the screen — shirtless, working @ the gas station and rowing a boat — and lit up my life. It was a moment that, thanks to the magic of BitTorrent, I relive every damn day. I’ve followed you for some time now, through all the failed sitcoms that neglected to feature you shirtless, through all the really bad straight-to-video (not even DVD!) flicks you were in, and I TIVO that Gilmore Girls shitfest on the WB everyweek even tho you’re not a regular character yet; I just pray each week to see you. Your body is a wonderland.

I love you, Matt Czuchry. Logan. Lover. Whatever. This distance between us only makes me realize how important you are to me. Ok, so you dated Kate Bosworth back in the day but I understand that you just needed to ride her overhyped ass b/c she was a starlet on the rise, and you needed the exposure, so it’s all good. The important thing is that we’re ready to be together now, together in the naked gymnastical sense. Let’s run away and have lots and LOTS of sex all the time. Baby, it’s yours — all yours, if you want it tonight I’ll give you the red light special all through the night. You bring that torso, I’ll bring the BBQ sauce. Underneath your clothes there’s an endless story. Call me. We can work it out.

Take off your shirt. TAKE OFF YOUR SHIRT. TAKE OFF YOUR FUCKING SHIRT.