laundry love [completed]

f o u r : or maybe not

"m e o w."

"oh. o h . he's your cat."

"careful, there. for a moment i actually thought you were relieved that i wasn't gay."

"you're right i fucking am. one, mathew-fucking-bomer. two, ben-fucking-whishaw. three, neil-fucking-patrick-harris. four, jesse-fucking-tyler-ferguson. five, ian-fucking-mckellen, even. it's not fair..."

"adrian macintyre."

"what? oh, yeah. it's not fair, macintyre. not fucking fair."

"i'm pretty sure that i read somewhere that life's not fair..."

"rewind, rewind. did you just say that you read somewhere..."

"i did, ira. i did."

"but seriously, i watch a movie and get all riled up and fuck, why do they have to be such expert kissers, huh? why can't they be wet, sloppy smooches that some dingus with harry potter glasses planted on you during your acne and rabbit teeth days?

"..."

"anyway, then i go google them to find out how they like their steak because honestly, we can all agree on the fact that at this point, we've already settled down on a hundred acre farm with pigs and our eight kids. five boys and three girls."

"..."

"did you just fucking snort?"

"i guess i can be one of your pigs, then?"

 "i guess you can. anyway, i just want to lick their...s o r r y. i forgot i had an italian sausage to execute."

"scottish. but, uh-oh."