tucker carlson, welcome to dumpsville
see, tuck (can i call you tuck? of course i can!), i used to love mostly everything about you: your cute wittle lisp, your cute wittle bow tie, your cute wittle suits. sure, i would leave the volume on the TV wayyyyy down, so that i could barely hear that lisp (for sanity's sake) but still, dear, you were my number one geek fantasy.
SRSLY, carl (can i call you carl? why not!)?
you look as though you've been entertainig some heavy feathered-hair fantasies about Larry Wilcox--you know, that guy from CHiPs who isn't named Erik Estrada. the bow tie? gone. the suit? poof. the lisp? probably there, but can't be lisping very much if you're on mothereffing Dancing with the Stars!
and so, tuck, carl, or whatever your real first name is, i have to break it off with you. you are no longer my number one geek love fantasy. you're not even in the top 10.
you killed my love and i hate you.
back to colbert i go . . .