The highlight of swimsuit season.

Either Marisa Miller is the result of millions of years of flawless evolution, or she has spent her entire adult life hungry. Her loss is my gain. Skinny girls with big breasts, that's what Ponce De Leon should've spent his time looking for...not that stupid water fountain. What a dip shit.

Eyes like the azure sky...

This is exactly why Andy Roddick couldn't give two sh!ts about winning grand slam tennis titles. This is also why he absolutely owns Roger Federer in every possible way that really matters. Much to my delight, Roddick's wife, Brooklyn Decker, is the cover model for this year's SI Swim Suit issue. In a related story, 100 million women just opened another carton of ice cream. Girls this pretty actually cause me physical pain. For instance, today, I spent 9 hours working out Punnet Squares on my computer in an attempt to recreate eyes this blue. The closest I could come was this. If you're looking at this and saying, "That's gross. She's too skinny." I would say to you...actually, I wouldn't say anything to you, but you already knew that.

My head just exploded.

Every estrogen ridden female in the world will celebrate their favorite holiday this week as Valentine's Day rears its ugly head. While all you morons are paying double, even triple the normal price for roses, chocolate, lame ass stuffed animals and stupid strawberries, I'll be boycotting this shit out of this stupid commercially construed celebration of women's desire to be doted on and men's insatiable desire to get laid. To me, February 14 is two things: An indication of how stupid you are is directly proportional to how much overpriced goods you buy and send to your girlfriend's work so she can display to everyone how much she's truly loved. The other thing, is the release of the annual Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue. This part of the holiday is so deep and rewarding. It goes beyond just superficial metaphors of love and admiration. It's a selfless, benevolent, exposed, and forgiving depiction of devotion and partnership. It's love's synergy with mother nature, personified. As you can see, not unlike most issues, this year delivered big time. Ladies, if you want to make your spouse happy, take a picture of yourself and airbrush it until it looks like this. Trust me, he'll be happy.

Abbey Clancy, a photographed coke head, WAG, model, full time rocket, did every guy in the world a favor and sat nude for the ever-rewarding bikini painting/paint-on session. Honestly, if she asked, I would steal 20 kilos of cocaine from Pablo Escobar himself, smuggle it to the United States in my colon, and sell it in PEZ dispensers on the White House lawn for one chance with this chick. If Abbey filled out a US tax form, her W-2 should simply read: Relationship Assassin. She's so pretty, I just conceived.

This is the definition of a rocket.

You could search the internet like Feds searched the "Grassy Knoll" and you wouldn't find anything that's as flaming hot as this picture. Normally, despite her body, I'm not that high on Marisa Miller, but this, this is just ridonkulous. I would funnel a gallon of Michael Jackson's Jesus Juice, inject myself with 25cc of Propofol, and sleep naked in his bed with a rubber ball taped in my mouth for one hour on a memory foam matress with this chick. If looking at this picture doesn't make your pants fit tighter, call your mother and come out of the closet, because she already knows you're gay.

Baaaaaaaaring!

I know Leonardo Dicaprio pulls more women than anyone on Earth, but honestly, his last two girls, Gisele (Im a dude with an adam's apple) Bundchen and this Bar Raphealllliwhatever, I'm just not sold on. These two chicks are the reason the phrase Butter Face was invented. Obviously, their bodies are nearly perfect, but when you're Jack effing Dawson, you could have anyone. He gets laid on a sinking ship for crying out loud. I guess she's ok, but for the cover? SI swung for the fence, but they missed and they're just spinning around in the batters box like those kids that suck at baseball. I'm disappointed.

What's wrong with Brooklyn Decker?