As I lay, half-baked and alone on the couch, watching Call Me by Your Name for the 6.9th time, I couldn’t help but think to myself:
“I’m pretty sure I’m straight, but damn if I wouldn’t fuck Armie Hammer right now.”
I want to make it crystal clear that I would be more than willing to enter into a heated romantic relationship with Armie Hammer if it meant living in Italy, sipping on San Pellegrino Aranciata all day, and finger fucking peaches all night. I also have a deep desire to marry both Winklevoss twins at the same time.
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