The Observer is on to me. Today, Doree Shafrir came clean about her Kevin Federline obsession, and now I know my naughty little secret isn t just my problem. You see, I too am uncontrollably hot for K-Fed. The Observer totally nailed this one: his puffiest white shoes, his big ego, and his scruffy good looks all add up to some hardcore sex appeal, and I m ready to come out my Federline closet.

While I m not one to chase after the typical alpha-males, something about Kevin Federline really speaks to me (and, more importantly, my crotch). His blatant disregard for hygiene strikes me as sexy. His ubiquitous cigarette is just a classic accessory. His fondness for creating bastard babies makes him a dedicated hobbyist. He s talented, y'all, and I think he's quite the catch.

Much like The Observer pointed out, I m tired of these sensitive indie boys. They re always trying to understand me and be honest about their emotional crap. Ugh. You only need one pussy in a relationship, and Kevin Federline understands that. He s tough. He doesn t have time for my emotional bullshit — the game is on and I need to finish preparing his dinner (Sloppy Joes, of course).

There s also the fact that Kevin Federline is devastatingly attractive - give that man a bath and a Details cover, and suddenly Britney Spears is the luckiest woman in the world. What I wouldn t give to rip that wifebeater off of him and lick the dried beer off of his chest The guy reeks of dirty hotness, and I'd do him sideways.

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