Blip blip blip. 24. Hi, Gustave? I'm down here! No, here…on your lap…in the pages of Vanity Fair. My name is Kiefer, and this is the longest day of my life. Boy, it's brisk here in this new Gap ad. I'd better keep my Gap jean jacket from blowing open at the neck by pressing it up under my throat with the palm of one of my small delicate hands while I stare at you and wonder why you write these things about me every week and what they mean. I lie awake at night wondering if you really love me or if you just want me to smack you around for a few hours in the Chateau Marmont so you can laugh about it later with your jaded friends. Why do you keep staring at me? What are you thinking? You scare me, Gustave. Or rather, you make me fear myself. My father Donald let me have the Trancas, California beach house this month. Please spend the weekend with me. We could take long private walks along the beach and I could show you where Julia Phillips, Steven Spielberg, Jane Fonda, Blythe Danner, and Sue Mengers had all those swinging pot parties in the early seventies. Later, we could listen to Joni Mitchell's Blue album on a portable stereo on the beach while we steam mussels on an open fire, drink Chardonnay, and watch the sunset. When the stars come out, we'll throw our empty bottles into the surf and pour our sunburned bodies into a king-sized bed dressed with crisp lilac-scented sheets and let the perpetual sound of the surf lull us to sleep. We could be like this forever.
First, I'd like to give a big shout-out to Sars because she taped this episode for me when my cable went out. This also reminds me of the fact that I totally forgot to give proper love to Dr. Funk and Cosmorific a few weeks ago for saving my ass in a similar fashion.
Hotel room. Faux-licity and TakeOnKief are making sweet tender love. They're crossing one of the bridges of Madison County. They're tasting each other's General Foods International Coffee. They're having an Aviance night. They're learning Victoria's secret. And the sex is so sweet and nasty that she's unleashed the curls from her bun. It's magical. It's sensual. It's empowering. This is not your average drunken sex with some guy you meet at TGI Friday's in Memphis, Tennessee. This the kind of sex that a fourteen-year-old girl thinks she's going to have when she grows up, gets a job as a stewardess, and moves to an apartment of her very own. This is "unicorn" sex. She's never known passion like this before. He's so into her. Or…is he?