Dear Jon Hamm’s Junk,
This is your underwear. I just wanted to write to let you know how much I miss you. It seems like we never hang out anymore, and I’m lonely over here without you.
I know you’re really busy filming Mad Men, and those pants are pretty tight, so I can understand why you don’t think you don’t have room for me in your life. But I saw the photo -- you're not even trying to be discrete anymore.
It stings, Jon. You leave me here all alone at home, cooped up in a drawer, while you’re just out there, cavorting with the world, inviting them all to take a look.
Is that what you need Jon? Attention? Did I not give you enough support?
I’m tired of sharing you with the public, Jon Hamm’s Junk. When we got into this relationship, I don’t remember you saying anything about it being open. For the record, I’m not ok sharing you with everyone you meet, or people ogling you online. Those are supposed to be private moments, but you just can’t help putting yourself out there, can you?
It’s not too late. We can make this union work. Come back to me Jon Hamm’s Junk -- if you make me a priority in your life, I promise I’ll always be there for you. But you have to let me in your pants first.
It’s up to you, but don’t wait too long. I might move on -- you’re not the first movie star’s junk that likes to go commando, and you certainly won’t be the last.
Jon Hamm’s Underpants
P.S. I wonder how the commenters feel about you neglecting me?
Images via rtppt/Flickr & Pacific Coast News
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