Oh, shut up. You know you love that show too. When it first came on, it used to annoy me, but not everyone at my house hated it, so I began to overhear longer bits of it, and to love the double entendre, and the size bits. I love size bits, no matter where they come from. No, that’s not true; there are size bits out there I find repugnant. But every time I see something growy or shrinky on Adventure Time, I smile like this…
…and never fail to look around, if I’m with family or friends, because you never know when someone will look at you, jump up from their seat and cry out, “A-ha! J’acusse!” as they point at you and reveal to all present that you have a filthy size fetish. So I make sure no one sees me blush and no one hears my heart pounding and no one watches me try to control my frantic heartbeat, and no one is taking pictures of my cheeks as they turn a violent red.
I not only do that when I watch Adventure Time. It happens any time I see a commercial or show depicting size stuff. It’s also happened that I’m not alone, and someone will say, “Look at that [whatever] with that tiny guy! Did you see it? Did you look? Look at it, look at how funny it is!?!??!”
Those are the times my poker face must be at its best, because inside my head I’m screaming, “YES, I SAW IT. IT WAS HOT. I DREAM OF OWNING SUCH A SEX TOY. YES, LITTLE MEN ARE SEX TOYS DIDN’T YOU KNOW?!?!?!” But outwardly I’m…
And… “No, I missed it. I was thinking of politics or tax reform or health care.” And they always believe me. Would my life be better if I told all around me that I have these thoughts and feelings? Nah. It would make no difference. It would probably mean members of my family find my blog, and start asking questions. Especially my mom. She’d be all… I’m not even going to tell what she’d be like. But it would not be good. The questions would never end.
Anyway, I was about to tell you about this:
I buy every Adventure Time season as soon as it comes out. Every season is extremely rewatchable. I love the songs. I know the songs. Don’t make me start singing now, because I will. But I love the size stuff the most, no matter how inconsequential, how unrelatable, how vague it is. I’ll take it because I’ll take my size stuff any way I can get it. So, from minute 3:20 on, I looked like this:
And I did the same with my lips every time Finn was handheld. Do you have any idea how much I love handheld? No, you don’t. I love it. A lot. So much. If I had a tiny man in real life, he’d be so handheld, so much. So often. So tightly. So hard. So closely. Any image of a tiny human (or robot—let’s be honest) male held in the hand of a larger female anything… is going to cause the same effect on me.