I'm back to report that my inner 14-year-old is alive and well and...horny. I've just been over at trust the process. Click on the photo of the red shirt. Holy shit. I mean, I don't even have to have hot nasty sex with him. I'd sell the gold out of my mother's mouth if I could just get close enough to, like, bite him on the elbow or something.

They don't make 'em like that anymore.