Y’all will recall that, since the dawn of Tiny Cat Pants, I have had an enormous crush on Dan Abrams and would, in fact, leave work early in order to get home to watch him.
Yesterday, I came home and turned my TV on at five and sat there entranced at a man who looked a tad Republican-y but together and, if I may say so, somewhat hot. Okay, quite hot.
And then I realized it was fucking Joe Scarborough!
I feel like I should wash my eyes out with bleach.
Could you stick anyone on MSNBC at five in the evening and find me sitting there like a dog watching a squirrel?
Is there some inexpensive treatment for this? I should start working later, I think.