Natalie Portman is the reason I work out. I have this fantasy where we start talking at the Vanity Fair Oscars party bar. We exchange a few pleasantries. She asks what I do. I say I loved her in New Girl. She laughs. I get my drink. "Well, see ya," I say and walk away. I've got her attention now. How many guys voluntarily leave a conversation with Natalie Portman? She touches her neck as she watches me leave. Later, as the night's dragged on and the coterie of gorgeous narcissists grows increasingly loose, she finds me on the balcony, my bowtie undone, smoking a cigarette. "Got a spare?" she asks. "What's in it for me?" I say as I hand her one of my little white ladies. She smiles. "Conversation with me, duh." I laugh. "What's so funny?" she protests. "Nothing, nothing... It's just... don't you grow tired of the egos?" "You get used to it," she says, lighting her cigarette and handing me back the lighter. "What would you do if you weren't an actress?" I ask. "Teaching, I think." "And if I was your student, what would I be learning?" "Discipline," she says quickly, looking up into my eyes, before changing the subject. "Where are you from?" "Bermuda," I say. "Oh wow. That's lovely." "It's ok," I admit. "Not everything is to my liking." "What could possibly be not to your liking in Bermuda?" she inquires. "I don't like sand," I tell her. "It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere."

Spongebob, you are my new sex toy. I’m so happy I finally came to terms with this little problem and am now ready to do what every good boy needs. I want to be Sigmabob Grindpants. I want to rub my erect penis against your tiny head until you’re drenched with my cum, and I want your tight little body to be the only place I’ll cum. I want to use you and abuse you, and then use you some more. Your life belongs to me now. You will not leave me again. I want to feel you suck me, your wet, warm tongue sliding all over my shaft. I want to hold you down, tie you to a chair with your legs spread, and fuck you harder and faster than I’ve ever fucked my own mother. I want to watch you squirm as I push you into your own little corner of hell. If you are willing, I will give you the cock of your dreams. If you are not, you’ll watch as I cut you and play with your cum like it’s my very own porno. You will never feel comfortable in your own skin again. You will live, breathe, and die with me. I own you, Spongebob! I own you. I own you. I own you.