Wednesday, February 29, 2012

The Essence of Love: Flo-Rider


I’m in love. No, not with the She-Hulk, that's over, for good. It’s different this time. I never felt this way before. 

She’s beautiful. Her hair cascades down her head only held back by a navy blue head band dam. Her lips are sleek like two red Ferraris parked right on top of each other begging you to take a ride (lipstick MAC: Ladybug, yes I know this). She wears a white apron over her pearly white skin, no not for cooking, rather for pure sex appeal. And she wears two buttons. Just two.

Yeah, I’m talking about Flo. Progressive Auto Insurance Flo.


It’s as if Ned Ryerson had a really hot and sexy daughter, who followed in his professional footsteps.

 I now own auto, home, boat, life, motorcycle, mobile home, non-mobile home, and pet insurance. I have very few of these items, most notably a life.

But I never noticed that I was attracted or even remotely interested in this woman or goddess. But perhaps we have spent enough time together over the years that we were basically in a relationship, but I didn’t know it. I’ve seen her commercials so many times over the past 4 years that she’s become a part of me.

I was watching television the other night and then there she was again in her ultra-clean sterile work environment.

Then I said it. And it wasn’t so much “said” as it was squeeked. It was spontaneous and immediate like a involuntary spasm of streaming consciousness, “ God, I want to fuck Flo.”

My first thought was that she heard me.

My second thought, “O, there’s other people in the room with me.” One who I’m dating, The Defendress, two being, one of my best friends.

They both just looked at me for a while. I guess they didn’t want to have sexual relations with the hottest insurance model ever.

I’m still quite embarrassed that I said, “fuck,” you don’t “fuck” a woman like Flo, you make love with Flo. You share embraces, kisses, and caresses. You massage each other and quote insurance quotes in French.

Yes, I realize that she’s an actress playing an imaginary character named Flo, but researching who she was would simply ruin this dream. Why can’t there be a woman out there somewhere, who creates robots in her likeness to sell car insurance? Flobot
(I'm trying not to imagine a threesome. I have failed.)

I wish I could moralize the whole experience into some grand theme that could touch us all. However, I didn’t think “FLO-llow” Your Heart would catch on, and yet there it is because I’m too in love to write anything else.

Despite my intense cravings, I haven’t done anything super weird or kinky like bought my girlfriend an apron this week. 

I bought her two. True by the way.



The Hollywood Defender  And   F LO

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