Loneliness. And this is a biggie: lack of on-demand physical affection. I mean, I would be lying if I didn’t admit that fantasizing about riding Michael B. Jordan’s D like it’s a toboggan down the French Alps has gotten me through many a cold night. Unfortch, being boo’d up with MBJ is not my reality; my reality is late-night jam sessions where I change the words to Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers’ “Free Fallin’” to “Free Wallin’,” which is about me forgetting to bring underwear to the gym, so after I shower, my lady walls are unprotected in my jeans. #DisrespectfulToThePettyEstateAndMyLevis.
