I usually call you Jack Bauer, but just this once, I will call you Kiefer. This is my favorite picture of you, Kiefer. It makes me want to wrap you up in a CTU blanket and cuddle all the angst right out of you. I even think your feet are cute in this picture. In fact, I think your feet are the cutest part of all, and not just because I'm a Pisces and we like feet. I look at those feet, and I think, Oh, Kiefer! I just want to throw you on the couch and rub those cute little feet and tell you not to worry about a thing.
By the way, did you know I like to sit on counters, too? I do! I sit on the bathroom counter every single morning while I get ready. Only sometimes there's not enough room for my feet on the counter, so I put them in the sink.
But wait! This isn't about me, Kiefer, this is about you! I heard the news this morning. I'm worried about you, Kiefer, and not just because Jack Bauer can't save the world if he's shitfaced and getting hauled in by the cops. And not because you're going to have to spend four days (translation: two hours) in the clink now, either.
I'm worried because you're a little bit of a lost soul, Kiefer. A lost soul that I'd like to find. I think it's time for an intervention. And I am just the girl to give it to you.
I mean ... really. Christmas is just a few months away. Think of the trees.
Love and lots of future kisses,