Reason Hillary Duff Probably Digs Me #1:
I've heard nothing to the contrary

This much is true—I have yet to hear a single thing about Hillary Duff not being completely into me. And of course I find that flattering. Not that I'm attracted to Hillary Duff in the least, of course. After all, Hillary Duff is only sixteen, and in many states technically a minor; and because I believe in nothing else if not justice, I find Hillary Duff as approximately sexually charged as a pile of ham. Those disgusting pert breasts of hers, that tight little sixteen-year-old bottom? Please. you couldn't pay me enough to to bounce a quarter off that flat, smooth, tanned stomach of hers.

Not that this has stopped Hillary. Because, as mentioned earlier, I've been given no reason to presume that Hillary Duff doesn't want me, I am left with no other conclusion that, in fact, she most likely wants me pretty bad. Otherwise why keep it such a secret?

The poor girl's got a crush in a bad way. And while of course I lust after her not even slightly, ripe, nubile young sixteen-year-old that she is, I'm nonetheless flattered that she holds me in such high regard. No doubt she's practicing writing "Hillary Pinkerton" over and over again in her diary, with big swirly loops and hearts over the i's. And someday, when she's perfectly ocmpletely legal in every state, we'll have a drink, and I'll show her my diary with "Jay Duff" written over and over again with big swirly loops and hearts over the d's, and oh, the laughs we'll have. Oh, the drinks we'll also have. Oh, how drunk she'll get. But mostly the laughter.

Until then, consider me forbidden fruit, Ms. Duff. All the hearted i's in the world won't change that, even ten million hearted i's. Do well to remember that.

Reason Hillary Duff Probably Digs Me #2:
Chicks dig suave, mysterious guys

And let me tell you, I've got suaveness and mystery coming out my goddamn ass. Mysterious? How many guys keep smoke capsules on their belt? If you said "no guys," you'd be wrong by precisely one stud: me.

Orginally I did it because I wanted to turn my boring regular belt into Batman's utility belt — but it turns out drugstores won't sell you industrial-grade chemical solvents once they find you you plan to pour them into old prescription bottles and duct tape them to a big cool belt. Then they tend to ask you why you're duct taping anything to your belt. And not nicely. Accusingly. And eventually they get really accusing and mean, and you cry a little, and you tell them you were only going to throw it at people for the purposes of administering justice.

They won't listen.

Anyway, even though I had to scrap 90% of my original utility belt plans, I still managed to get a miniature flashlight and some smoke capsules. Well, blood capsules. Even so, these items still rocket the belt up to 10% utility; by my calculations that works out to 100% capsule-belted mysteriousness. Ask the weather-ladies and they'll tell you: 100% mystery equals warm fronts with a 100% chance of sex.

I will be completely frank with you: I can't actually conceive that Hillary Duff wouldn't be pretty turned on by all that. Plus, if she loses her keys — miniature flashlight. And if conversation slows down, I can always break the ice with some blood capsules to the eyes and light to medium-strength limb thrashing.

Reason Hillary Duff Probably Digs Me #3:
I'm pretty sure I heard her say she digs me

At least I think I heard her say she dug something—I connected the dots myself on that one. It was at a party a Hollywood producer was throwing in celebration of some movie or another. I think it starred Richard Gere, but then, so do a lot of movies, and you don't see any parties for them. Anyway, it starred some idiot.

I don't know what Hillary Duff was doing there, exactly, except for "looking radiant" and "digging me, most likely," two things I was completely positive of. I'd been breaking into the producer's house at the time, but all the noise from the living room kept distracting me from emptying out the contents of the den into a sack, so I decided to mingle a little. The second Hillary laid eyes on me, she turned to some idiot and whispered something. I'm a bit of a lip reader, and I'm almost certain she either said "I dig that guy" or "Eye-gag, thought gay," which kind of looks the same lipwise, even if it doesn't make a damn bit of sense. So either Hillary Duff totally digs me, or she's a blathering idiot. This syncs up with most of my theories on women to date, actually.

Sadly I was unable to chat the foxy, bosom-having Ms. Duff up and get to the bottom of things, as through no fault of my own I was drunk and got into a fistfight with some idiot. I most likely would have been arrested, except I managed to break the ice with some ollll' blood capsules to the eyes, and made my escape in a cloud of lawyers offering me business cards, like Batman, except with cards instead of bats.

Reason Hillary Duff Probably Digs Me #4:
Science agrees with my penis

I crunched a couple of numbers on this, and it turns out science backs my Duff-digging hypothesis 100%. Check it out:

Note the above scientific facts only point to the possibility of sex, not actual sex with a minor. That's an important distinction (see point #1).

The naysayers among you might be able to refute the rest of my arguments, but you can't beat stone-cold science. That's why it's called science. Refuting scientific logic is like pissing in Isaac Newton's face — it's simply not logical to do it. Who'd piss in Isaac Newton's face? That's fucking ridiculous. Anyway, that's you.

Still not convinced? Postulate this on for size:

Yeah, that's right.

Reason Hillary Duff Probably Digs Me #5:
Check out this goddamn handstand

Hup!

[flawless handstand]