Faithful readers, I owe you an apology - it's been over a year since the last Stamos vs. Stamos, and that, my dear friends, is terrible. I fear that in the meanwhile, the other Stamos is gaining on me. The good news is that while I've lost count of the overall score at this point, I feel confident that I am still winning (note: Stamos vs. Stamos competitions are almost always rigged in my favor, because well, he's John Fucking Stamos, so I'm operating with one hell of a handicap here - okay?).
HOWEVER: Today, my unflailing confidence has been brutally attacked. Crushed, almost. See, today I saw a picture of John Stamos at the premiere party for the new season of Glee - for which, as I mentioned before, he was mistakenly cast - and with one glimpse at that photo I KNEW it would be a tough round.
Look at this photo. LOOK HARD. Drink. It. In.
Pay close attention loyal readers.
Do you see it?
DO YOU SEE IT?
Yes, he's playing ping-pong, which not only demonstrates that he has a degree of athletic ability, but that he's fun to hang with at a party and probably has a great sense of humor too (whatever, he's amaaaaaaaaazing, FINE).
But it is NOT the ping-pong I am focused on here (by the way, I'm totally down for a Stamos vs. Stamos ping pong match. In the inevitable compeition reality show I'm just waiting for a network to pick up, this will definitely happen). No, how could I be focused on the ping-pong when there is something else here I cannot help but stare at...?
John Stamos is tan. VERY TAN. SO TAN I AM FIGHTING AN ENSLAUGHT OF RAGE/JEALOUSY/AROUSAL (that's a perfectly acceptable range of emotions so shut your piehole). You see, Mr. Stamos - I am tan. I AM VERY TAN. I MAY OR MAY NOT (MAY) SUFFER FROM TANOREXIA - THAT IS HOW TAN I AM. People call me "Tannie Annie." People ask me how to properly apply sunscreen so that they too can be as tan as I am. People ask me if all I did all weekend was lay out in the sun (yes I did). I am both mocked and admired for my tan - it is a part of the Stamos package, a part of the Stamos je ne sais quoi, a part of the Stamos brand. The Stamos that is ME. And here you are, with your perfect hair, and your excellent ping-pong paddle-holding form, with your not-too-bushy-but-just-enough-fluff eyebrows and pearly white teeth and you have a tan that not only rivals my tan, but could in fact surpass my own bronzed color.
The good news, however, is that I just got back from six days in Maine where I spent a luxurious Labor Day weekend kayaking and playing tennis and laying on the beach, and eating fresh seafood gathered from the ocean that is essentailly my own backyard, (and what did you do this weekend? Work on that TV show or something? Laaaaaaaame) so I too am tan. You know, I am SO TAN, in fact, that this round?
I don't even need to hold my forearm up against yours for comparison (however, I am completely open to that option if you'd like to challenge these results. We can rub forearms any day of the week). I win. I AM TANNER.
But nice try, Stamos. NICE TRY. I'll admit, it was a little too close for comfort this time. I don't think you've come this close to conquering me since you pulled out an improbable win at Disneyland.