On days like today when I am feeling as though every man on God’s green earth is a soulless piece of demonic shit, I stop and think of my sweet John, and I know that there is one man who possesses the face of an angel and the soul to match.

Breathe deeply, oh faithful readers — breathe deeply of my imaginary husband, he who is both the male ideal personified and the saving grace of my gender.

Breathe deeply of the Stamos.