david duchovny
david duchovny, WHY WON'T YOU LOVE ME?
oh. sexual addiction, eh? well honey, i'm right here, sexually deprived for your freedom***. i could make an exception to help a guy out, ya know.
what is it you like? i could dress up like an alien if you wanted. you like clammy, greenish skin? big eyes? done.
MAYBE you always had it bad for scully. i could be an FBI agent, sure! no worries! i can rock a pants suit, sensible heels and a trench coat. my hair is kind of reddish. will that work? i can "arrest" you for being crazy and a 'threat to yourself and others', and you can "resist" said "arrest" and then i could you know, pat you down or something. rough you up a bit.
want me to write about red shoes in my diary? i'll do it. red flip flops, red stilettos, red runners, cross trainers, and hikers. red orthopedics, red platform, red ballet flats, red boots, red gladiators, red slides, wedges, slip-ons and crocs. red hi-tops, red lo-tops, red ankle boots, red mary janes, red peep-toes, red birkenstocks, red sandals, red sling-backs, red fucking checkered vans. or red wingtips, if that's your thing. you know, whatever. i'll write all about the size, shade of red and shape. the feel, the look, the taste, the way they caress the heel and tickle the toe. i could fill several diaries, really. i will even model them for you, after you read my diaries, and picked your favorites. your favorites from my red shoe diaries.
what i'm trying to say here, is that if you needed an outlet, i'm right freaking here. i'll take one for the team. i'll help you any way you need it. you think a facility is really going to help? honey, please. i haven't gotten any in 4 months. i'll wear you the fuck out. you'll be cured by the time i'm done with you.
or, maybe we could just have tea?
***apparently, this is the army wife thing to say when your soldier is deployed. whatevs. i saw it online.