without

There’s a silly game of sorts that my friends (male and female) and I play called Celebrity Sandwich. Basically, we go around and say which two celebrities we’d like to have a ménage à trois with –– we’re the meat, and they’re the bread, dig? Since forever, my two pieces of bread have been Marisa Miller and a clone of Marisa Miller. With many woeful apologies to my beautiful wife (whose figure is very Marisa Miller-ish, natch), if that curvy, blonde Victoria’s Secret model and 2008 Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition covergirl were in bed with me, I can’t imagine doing much else other than paying absolute complete and utter attention to her. Another person would just be a distraction