Have you given any consideration to how I feel? You clearly just don’t care about me at all.
I know what you’re gonna say: “My agent has been trying to tell you this for the past year,” but I don’t want to hear it, okay? I don’t know why you use her as a mouthpiece anyway, just say it to my face: you don’t want to be hot anymore.
You know what? It’s NOT ok. That’s just selfish. You want to turn into the middle-aged frat-boy-turned-dad with a beer gut and bad facial hair? What about what I want? These Pony gifs don’t last forever, you know.
This “Running Wild with Bear Grylls” business was the last straw. You had the perfect opportunity to show me that you are committed to being a piece of meat, and you failed.
This is what I was promised:
And instead, I got this:
…and a whole lot of talking. And clothes. Even Zac Efron takes his shirt off in his episode, and you did not. How did you let that happen?!
It hurt me to see this, Channing. It hurt me because this revealed once and for all that you are in fact just like any other brosef out there: wheezy laugh, frightening cognitive abilities, and an undying love for beer pong (sorry, “ruit”) that I will never understand. That didn’t use to bother me when you gave me dances, jokes, and a lot to look at.
But now…? You’re not giving me anything but shame. Just look at how Ali and I talk about you now, while watching this Bear Grylls business:
My friends now cannot even remember the name of Magic Mike, and refer to it as “that movie you like with the butts.”
I don’t know what else to say. It’s really not me, it’s you. You’ve changed, and you’ve decided you don’t want me in your new life. I can’t be a part of this. I can’t stand idly by waiting for you to re-hot. So Channing?