In Out Magazine’s Love Issue, Doogie Howser cuts open the veins in his beating heart and spills out the story of how he immediately started seeing hearts seconds after meeting his now fiancé David Burtka. I read the entire thing and even with lines like “He’s my lifeline, in an amazing way. Without him, I can’t breathe” and “I was in love with him before he was comfortable saying it” sending a quiet awww from my eyes to the bitter mound of rotten sloth meat in my chest, I still wanted NPH to tell me about their drunken fights at 3am.
It’s like one of my friends was farting on and on about how much she loves her boyfriend and blah queef blah blah blah queef blah. My gag reflex can handle a lot of things (wink wink, call me), but one thing it can’t handle is hearing about her perfect package of sweet true love. SICK! I am not the one for that. But I am the one to talk to after you and you boyfriend get into a whiskey-fueled fight in front of a bar over some random slut he might have smiled at. That’s the kind of shit my soul wants to deepthroat.
But if you’re not permanently living in a fart bubble of bitterness like I am, you really should read NPH’s love story and you’ll probably get Diabetes from it (“Novo, y’all!” – Paula Deen). You know it’s for real love when NPH lets David kiss him on the adam’s apple. ON THE ADAM’S APPLE! I wouldn’t even let Prince Hot Ginge’s peen kiss me on the adam’s apple. That is truly my HELL NO spot. There’s this little ditch on my adam’s apple and whenever I touch it, a shot of ewwww crawls up my spine like I just looked at those Ke$ha nudes again.