During a recent interview with HuffPost Live, perfect human (put down your hands, it’s not up for discussion) Terry Crews admitted that he and his wife Rebecca King-Crews, who is sort of giving me later-in-life Amber Rose vibes above, went on a 90-day sex fast. Yes, by choice. They chose not to hump on each other. For a whole 90 days. I know, I don’t get it either. Terry says that they both put CLOSED signs over their crotches to get closer to each other without secretly wondering if “Hi honey, how was your day?” is code for “I’m ready to bone if you are.”
“90 days – no sex, all relationship, all talk, all cuddle. I found that at the end of that 90 days…I knew who she was, and it wasn’t about ‘Let’s go out because I know I’m gonna get some sex later.’ It was like, ‘Let’s go because I want to talk to you. I want to know you’.”
Awww, that’s actually sweet. One day I hope to get to the point where I’m on a date and the person I’m with says “I want to talk to you” instead of “For the love of god please shut up about Pumpkin Spice Peeps. I DON’T CARE.” And I don’t know if this is a thing that exists, but can we nominate Rebecca King-Crews for a Congressional Medal of Coochie Determination or something? Because I don’t know how she was able to last 90 days. That’s some next-level dedication. If I was married to Terry Crews, I’d be calling that shit off after 36 hours.
Speaking of, here’s Terry Crews looking fine as hell at a charity event last week, because why not. I’ve also included some pictures of him posing on the red carpet with his hero wife. I don’t know how you did it Rebecca! No really, how did you do it. Waitmates? Was it Waitmates?