Cory: A Love Story

I know I’m usually pretty vague when talking about my personal life online, but I think I should be honest with all of you.

I am in love.

With Cory Booker.

If you don’t know who Cory Booker is, then it’s about time you knew: he’s my boyfriend.  (If you do know who Cory Booker is, just shut up, OK?! )

Since we are both in the public eye, busy with our respective careers that mostly focus on bettering other people’s lives, or in my case, destroying them, it can be difficult for us to spend time together.  Which is why you haven’t seen any pictures of us together.  Makes sense, doesn’t it?  You’re damn right it does.

Plus, I have been known to go slightly off-script on stage, commenting on an audience member’s appearance, his or her drink choice, or maybe even his or her mom’s level of intelligence.  Cory, of course, thinks this is hilarious, but doesn’t feel like it’s appropriate to brag about how funny his girlfriend is every day.  I mean, he’s got a (terrifying) city to run!

Our relationship is not like yours in that it is also completely imaginary.

However, we have, in fact, met.  Once.  Kind of.  I don’t want you think I’m crazy or something!

I was sneaking out of a show, trying to escape some aggressive paparazzi disguised as homeless men, and there he was.  Right by the subway entrance – I mean, by the door to my limo.  We made eye contact, but I could tell he was on his way to save more people from a burning building or something heroic like that, so I just sent him a little love note through our own private communication channel: Twitter.

It may not be the most conventional relationship, but for me – I mean, us – it works.

Cory laughing at something I said.






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