Here's a gift for Maxi Pad

(If you love Creepy Rob Lowe and Steve Carell, stick around until the end of this one.)

Well since I seem to be the object of obsession for Maxi Pad lately I thought I'd give him a little gift this Christmas.

The gift of laughter. 

Maxi Pad, who is definitely not Rick Armendariz of Forma Group (no seriously, I really mean it, honest to gosh) has been pretty obsessed with me lately. 

And while I firmly believe Maxi Pad and Martin Paredes should be able to be legally wed in all 50 states, I am regrettably going to have to turn down Maxi Pads advances. While I am impressed that you purchased my name as a domain name and point it to your blog (not creepy at all) and I'm flattered that you care about my hair cuts, my sex life, the fact that i don't drink over-priced beverages in order to maintain some status, my junk, how I speak, my affinity toward cholas, and the way I dress, I am however, uninterested in being the top to your bottom.

But fear not Maxi Pad, I know a nice young lady that wears scrubs to work every day that you might know. Maybe she has a brother you might be interested in. I'll put in a good word.

But hey, since you were so insistent that you aren't Rick Armendariz, and even made a demand of me that I complied with, I thought you'd get a kick out of this. 

Here's a little secret for you Maxi Pad, Commissioner Lewis used to accuse me of actually being you. He used to actually call me Max at the office. So here's a little Christmas separated-at-birth candy for both of you. 

Merry Christmas you two...