E!: Mario Lopez perspires a lot. Or as he puts it: "I never feel awake unless I'm sweating." We know he's talking about being athletic and fit, but...ew.
"Ew" is right.
I have bitten my tongue long enough.
Whether it was Dancing With your-soon-to-be-ex-lover, displaying jazz hands on Broadway, reporting beside smarmy Jerry Penacoli, running ESPN Hollywood and The Other Half into bolivia, hosting the unwatchable America's Best Dance Crew, you will never, ever be anything more than Albert Clifford Slater.
Your on-again-off-again Hispanic accent, nothing more than an obvious ploy to win votes on DWTS, is as authentic as that of Scott Hall.
I do not want to see your abs. I am not sent to gaga land by your dimples.
Just leave me alone.
Be happy being a fake all-state football, wrestling and basketball player, not to mention a great Jheri-mulleted 80's drummer.
Accept the fact that you are as much a caricature as your buddy Dustin Diamond (Mike D's brother, and Neil's son).
You insist upon yourself.
I love The Money Pit. That is my answer to that statement.