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    Oh How I Love Thee Tucker Carlson Let Me Count The Ways


    Oh How I Love Thee Tucker Carlson Let Me Count The Ways
    An open letter to Tucker in farm of tonight's noise (united by Al Franken) at Northern Kentucky Literary.

    My Cherished Tucker,

    I've alleged it before: I love the bow tie. Oh, how I wish you would deal in it back. I want to gradient it and tie you up.

    I want you to tell me at once jokes about all the bad Democrats you can't bear.

    Tucker, we will sit on all sides of our Williams Sonoma Home/Pottery Shed time room anywhere close down the Beltway in our J Compilation pants and Reef flip flops listening to Jack Johnson and the Grateful Wounded as we sip on dry martinis and consider our affinity for remarkable cars.

    I want to be your "bad ass Betty Crocker mama", delivery you at the veneer entry with a set of brownies in nothing but an apron. An apron from Cage and Barrel. A cute one, possibly with the American notice on it.

    I want to smirk and nod in imitation of your sarcastic politician friends come over to our hang on to for our wild-mad-crazy summer clambake.

    I will conflict your armed forces squat string over my Lilly Pulitzer sundress in the rear we shot The Association in the dusk.

    "

    "Oh Tucker".

    I want to name our babyish Madison and Chandler and Muffy. The girls will conflict grosgrain decorations in their hide and the boy will get a Lacoste crocodile tattoo on his treasury in imitation of he is a student at Middlebury.

    We will hold a chocolate lab named Trinity in the rear your four go out with turn at the exercise with the fantastically name in Connecticut.

    Tucker, be keen on, I love your rough-and-tumble, fringy, "quasi mullet" hide. It hints at your vivacity of stylish Birkenstocks and North Slant secrete pullovers, listening to Phish and intake refrigerated coffee.

    I want to conflict your old polo shirts as I work on the comprise projects on all sides of the hang on to, most probably stuck between a hot glue gun and decoupage.

    Tucker, I want to go to Delightful Code name with you so we can store up on Pellegrino, Apollinaris, Voss and Gerolsteiner.

    I can put my Lisa Loeb glasses on for you so we can learn by heart and talk about whatever happened to Ashleigh Banfield.

    Tucker, we will gradient family vacations to Greenwich, Nantucket and Stowe, Vermont in the bitter. We will cycle on all sides of in our big ass, gas guzzling SUV with one of intimates Black Dog stickers and a Choate Lacrosse marker on the back.

    We will hold "monogrammed everything".

    Tucker, I love your smirky smirk. It teases me, like you hold a drab secret or ruse to tell that wouldn't be fine to restrict with a lady. Oh, gist restrict it with me... Let me in to your passing world of characteristic, Standard Contradictions.

    Insignificant person will be able to out-preppy us, and I will love every sufficient of it.

    Kisses,

    Kate the Effective



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