Felicia Day

Welcome to a very special edition of People I Want to Bone!

We, the wordbangers, will occasionally discuss the merits of people other than the stifferson and Don't Speak factors. Friends, this is that post.

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Felicia Day is a special kind of person I want to bone, because I want to bone Felicia Day in a special way: with an unadulterated and impassioned love.

What follows is an open letter to Felicia, from myself, and is not to be read by anyone else on the internet. Honor System, guys.

Hey you, it's me.

I hope that you enjoyed the comment I posted in response to the premiere of The Guild, Season Four. I meant every word of it. I had a question for you, that I've been meaning to put out there for a while now - maybe back during Buffy, but probably after Dr. Horrible. Do me a favor and be honest? With both me and yourself...

Will you go out with me? (circle one)

a) YES

b) NO

c) SHIT YEAH

If you chose option a) or c), you've made me simply ecstatic. If you selected option b), please allow me to convince you otherwise by describing a completely random idea for a date that I have not planned out in its entirety and run several testing phases.

I plan to send a car for you, Felicia. A fancy car, one of fine taste. Perhaps I will send a Mitsubishi or Toyota, as I know that being mindful of my gas mileage is important to you. Perhaps. When you sit into the backseat of the luxurious vehicle I have sent, you will find yourself amidst a fantasy. A fantasy of things ladies like: rose petals about the pleater interior, a single stemmed glass of chilled champagne, a single stemmed glass of chilled sparkling apple juice, a gaming laptop, and myself. I will, at this time, offer you both glasses, so that you may choose whether or not you get fucked up.

I hope you will choose the latter, my darling.

I will be seated alongside you as we ride in complete silence toward our destination. During the trip, I will stare at you.

We will, after what has been a dream of a car ride, arrive at our destination - or perhaps our destinY? We will certainly see. It is a restaurant. After finding our table (which I have reserved in erotic anticipation), I will summon a waiter by speaking a foreign language. This will impress you and possibly dampen your downstairs a touch. Do not be afraid.

Once our waiter waits on us, I will order your meal for you, as all gentlemen should. I will order exactly what you want, without even asking you. I will do this because I will be paying close attention to your macroexpressions while you read the menu. I picked that up from Lie to Me, starring the British guy with the stare. Once again, my decidedly suave nature has caused your desire to stir. Downstairs.

During our meal, we will talk of many things: love, futures, family. Mostly, however, the two of us will discuss geek-centric items that we both care deeply about: video games, creativity, your fiery ginger's hair. At a certain point during our meal, you will laugh quite loudly and draw the attention of the restaurant. I will dispel the awkwardness immediately, by quoting a famous television catchphrase. I might try "I'm Homer Simpson" from The Simpsons, starring Homer Simpson.

Once you have completed your dessert of chocolate and more chocolate, as all ladies enjoy, we will adjourn to the aforementioned imported car to travel to your home. As we park, your door will open and I will hold a hand towards you, to assist you in leaving the vehicle. You will be astounded at the speed and stealth with which I left my side of the car, rounded the vehicle, and opened your door. This will make you turn back, briefly, to where I once sat. I will be there. I will wink. At this point, you will turn back towards the version of me that opened your door for your and become increasingly attracted to me on a physical level. Possibly sensual?

Hand-in-hand, I will lead you to your front door. Everything inside your body will be telling you to invite inside so that I may pillage you. You will open your mouth to speak. I will press a finger against your open lips, indicating that I wish for silence.

"I'm about to date your avatar," I'll say.

You will moisten and the screen will fade to black as we step inside.

Yours truly,
Brandon

Okay, internet, you can jump back in. Look:

Holy shit. She melts my entire body. For some reason, all I want to do with my entire life is hold Felicia's hand and cook her Eggs Florentine for breakfast. I don't know that there are many women that can write, act, sing, or create anything as impressive as what Felicia Day continues to bring to the table. Also, I'm hardpressed at this moment to think of somebody that has mastered the seductive and adorable test of a Google Images search.

Here's my final offer of proof. Please pay special attention to the 1:03 mark, as that should solidify everything ever in the history of ever.

I would lie for you.

Stacey Dash

By continuing to read this, you commit wholeheartedly to walk away from it knowing what Stacey Dash looks like naked. You will also learn several interesting facts about her, as a person, and her career.

Mostly just naked stuff, though. I promise. As always, clicking images takes you to big, fat versions of them.

Stacey Dash is forty-four years old and was only four years younger when these images were published - albeit airbrushed. Think about that for a minute. She was starring in "made for TV" movies before I was born and the first time I can remember seeing her, my twelve year-old mind didn't know what to do. It was like seeing the video for "Don't Speak" by No Doubt for the first time, you know? Like you weren't sure if you were allowed to feel that way about a lady, but goddamn did your downstairs wake up and take notice.

Speaking of which:

In 1995, Stacey had two movies released: Clueless and Illegal in Blue. I have seen them both and they are exactly equal in quality. Exactly.

 equals 

In Clueless, she played a seventeen year-old rich girl named Dionne Davenport and she treated that dude from Scrubs and the Alien Weed video quite poorly. In a mirror performance, Stacey played Kari Truitt in an independent noir film, Illegal in Blue. What follows is the OFFICIAL LIST OF PLOT KEYWORDS for that movie (via IMDB):

Lesbianism
Erotica
Interracial Sex
French Kissing
Female Nudity

At this point, please take special note that I am not adding, nor removing, any keywords.

Bare Butt
Lesbian Sex
Interracial Relationship
Beautiful Woman

Well that's sweet.

Male Nudity
Cop Having Sex With Suspect

wait what

Lesbian
Independent Film

Lesbian is mentioned three times, by the way.

Well, it is the illest men's magazine ever.

Oh wait, I almost forgot. I'd let her make me over and drive like a batshit crazy person while standing near Paul Rudd anytime. Is that right?

Betty Boop (Like Father, Like Son)

I really enjoy those brief moments in life when you notice something that ties you and your family together at a level no other person will be able to match. My father and I, upon his discovery of this blog, had the following conversation:

Pops: You should do Betty Boop. Betty Boop's a boner.

Then he did that thing that people do when they roll their tongue, making like a "overweight cat gagging on an entire bottle of cough medice while being raped by an otter" noise.

But you know what? He's right.

Betty Boop is a cartoon from the 1930's and she, as a character, is still a huge sex symbol in our country. That's crazy! How could that even happen? How could we, as an entire nation, decide that we'd totally hit that?

Oh.

That's Betty Boop, with a killer tan, doing the hula, without a shirt on. In 1937. It's been a few years since I studied American history, but I'm pretty sure that, back then, women hadn't even been transported in boats from the jungle. Betty Boop was changing the world.

Betty has reimagined herself a few times and shows up on lunchboxes and plastic backpacks every 9 years. That's not something a lot of women can say. The backpack thing, I mean.

That video there is a rad look at the past and what seems to be a crazy person.

My favorite Betty Boop memory? Easy. That time that Yakko, Wakko, and Dot went back in time and hung out with her on Animaniacs.

Lara Logan

I remember the exact moment I became interested in the news.

Like most kids I dismissed the news as boring stuff for old people. My grandparents watched the news. My parents watched the news. No one my age watched the news though. Who cares what's happening in South East Asia right now? I'm more worried about if I'm going to get to hang out with my friends this weekend.

Then one day after I graduated I was flipping through the channels on a summer afternoon and for god knows what reason I let the channel stay on PBS for a minute as the BBC World News came on. And there she was: Lara Logan.



Holy Christ, I didn't know what she was selling, but I knew I wanted some. Turns out she was selling the news. And I've been interested in politics and history ever since. Sorry Katie Couric and Diane Sawyer, but Lara Logan is the hottest lady on the news by far. You're both just fugly hags in comparison.



Not only is Lara Logan one stone cold fox, with her supermodel good looks, perfect hair, and sexy as hell South African accent, but she's also the most badass reporter out there, male or female. She's been to Afghanistan more times than you've been to the 7/11 down the block. Not many people can rock Kevlar chic, but Lara Logan can.



And now she's a regular correspondent for CBS News and 60 Minutes. I know that pretty much the only companies who will advertise on 60 Minutes anymore are the boner pill people, but on nights when Lara's reporting you might want to find another sponsor. Because watching Lara dodge bullets in prime-time is enough to give anyone an erection lasting over four hours, boner pills or not.

Lisa Loeb

I'm a Loeb Trotter - what can I say? When Lisa burst onto the scene like a bespectacled angel, everything changed. By everything, I of course mean one thing. That one thing: thick-rimmed librarian glasses.

Now, Lisa Loeb did not invent glasses (that was Arthur J. Lenscrafter IV), but she did inspire an entire generation of impressionable, dark-eyed, dark-haired ladies to rock the shit out of thick frames. If there's any one thing that science has given us since the discovery of Newton's 2nd Law, it's the stiffersons formula. Let's take a look at that, now:

Shut up, that's not anything you've ever seen before and does not mean anything other than what you're reading, right now.

x - represents stifferson value, obviously.
a - corresponds to the thickness of eyeglass frames.
b - hotness factor
c - size of "that ass"

The stifferson value on Lisa Loeb - when factored correctly - is "pretty fuckin' up there, man." What really gives Loeb the edge over other eyball protection connoisseurs is the fact that she created an entire fashion line of these frames to sell to the girls I have intercourse on. That's a relatively significant multiplier.

It's like 4.

Also, did you know that Lisa Loeb has like 8 studio albums and a few compliations/hits records? Yeah. She does. And no, not all of them are entitled Stay (I Miss You).

They should be, though.