Alisyn Camerota Is Hot, And...I Love Her

A powerful, uncontrollable feeling has gripped the soul and yes, the heart of Matt-Man, and...

As one who does not like to run from his feelings, nor keep them from you, my readers…

I am publishing an open letter to Fox and Friends weekend host, Alisyn Camerota in order to unleash and express my deep feelings for her.

Dear Alisyn (or dare I call you, Allie? hee-hee),

While I loathe FOX News (other than for comic value), every Saturday and Sunday morning around 7 A.M., after I take a leak, fire up a Basic Full Flavor, and crack open a beer grab a cup of joe, I turn on the T.V. and watch you in all of your babe-o-liciousness.

Sometimes, I am stark naked while I watch and I imagine that I am the couch upon which are sitting.

I’m 44, so it’s kind of late in life for me to be suffering from puppy love or a mere crush.

Alisyn, my dear, I have an incurable case of Camerotarrhea and there’s not enough penicillin in the world to abate it.

I know, I know…You are married and have three kids including a pair of twins, and I? I have been living with a woman named Schmoop for nearly nine years, but think about it.

You probably would like a break from your husband and the kids, and frankly Schmoop would probably enjoy some time away from me…of that, I have little doubt.

And yeah, we do come from different worlds. You work with complete and utter morons and address an audience comprised mainly of inbred mouth breathers, who are always seeing black helicopters above their houses, and think that Sarah Palin is the answer to this nation’s malaise.

I on the other hand, am a thinking individual and work for a guy named Drive-By Mikey, who while I was working Friday, threw a smoke bomb at me while I was standing in the Drive-Thru of the Beer Mine.

Yes, my boss and owner of the Beer Mine, threw a smoke bomb at me and into his own place of business, Alisyn. How cool is that?

We need to meet and try to make this love affair happen. I know it would be electric.

You could come to Bagwine. We could have drinks and get a room at the Fairfax Motel/Biker Bar.

We could stay in Room 20 so I could show you the puke stain on the carpet that I left in 2003 after blowing off my afternoon work meetings, and instead, held a meeting with 13 Seven and Sevens at the motel bar.

You’d like the stain…it looks like the Virgin Mary.

I could take you by the Beer Mine and introduce you to the aforementioned Drive-By Mikey and Pizza Bill as well.

Since you’re Italian, I’ll have Pizza Bill make a pizza for you. In fact, I’ll ask him to bake a heart-shaped pie just for you, my bella.

I can give you a tour of the beer cooler, and maybe while we’re in there I could steal a kiss and a warm embrace. Don’t worry about being caught.

Mike will be in his office sleeping, moisturizing his feet, going over the books. Bill will be occupied with some Fox News watching son of a bitch who can’t decide whether she wants a Dr. Pepper or a Coke.

Bill will be tied up for at least ten minutes before the chick finally settles for a Three Musketeers Bar and a Diet-Pepsi.

I’ll then take you to a romantic dinner and we can chat, flirt, and make fun of that horrid, vacuous bone-head, Gretchen Carlson.

After that, we can…well, I think you know where I am going. I have visualized the “after that” many times.

I know that a gentleman never discusses over whom he silently masturbates, but let me tell you…

You look really hot in that cooler when I have your naked body bent over a stack of Busch 30 packs.

I hope to hear from your lawyer you soon my love.

Always in mind, my heart, and my dreams…

Matt-Man

Cheers!!