If John Stamos were your boyfriend, birthdays would look the same every single year. Meaning that you would always spend the day at his favorite place in the world, Disneyland, and he would still insist that he was 43.
If John Stamos were your boyfriend, you would get pedicures together every other Saturday morning. You would catch up on each other’s work gossip and sip white wine as the nail technicians worked on your feet. You’d love that he’s older than you, because he has reached a stage in his life where his masculinity is not threatened by a little self-maintenance. Plus, he loves getting his heels pumiced.
If John Stamos were your boyfriend, you would get really high one night and text a link to the Jesse and The Rippers “Forever” music video to no less that 17 people. “But it’s so funny!” you would say the next day, when he told you he felt like you were making fun of him. He would feel sensitive about it until you stood outside your bedroom window with a boom box, playing the song on repeat.
If John Stamos were your boyfriend, you would get really fucking sick of the fact that he owns 27 different pairs of reading glasses and eats crackers in bed.
If John Stamos were your boyfriend, you would wake in the dead of night and carefully peel back his spray tanned arm that’s draped over you. Wordlessly, you would take your phone from the nightstand and tiptoe to the bathroom. Perched on the edge of the tub, you type into Google, “John Stamos real age.” An article appears that details how, much like Dorian Gray, John made a pact with spirits of the dark, and stopped aging many years ago. You feel a hand on your shoulder and jolt, looking up to see John staring down at you. “Did you find what you were looking for?” he asks. “Yes,” you answer. “Feel better?” he asks. “I guess,” you say. “Cool. Can you help me find my reading glasses? I lost them again.”
If John Stamos were your boyfriend, you would spend lazy Sunday mornings lying in bed next to each other taking Buzzfeed quizzes. Week after week, he would take the “Which Full House Character Are You?” And time and time again, he would get “Uncle Joey,” sending him into a state of pouting that could only be cured by reading from his book of positive affirmations and gratuitous foreplay……until the following week, when he would take the quiz again. The cycle continues until you both die.
If John Stamos were your boyfriend, you would have sex no less than 7 times a week and your life would be better for it.
If John Stamos were your boyfriend, you would finally find the trap door you’d been searching for that takes you to the hidden cellar beneath his house. After pushing away cobwebs and dust, you’d come to the hall where his cursed oil portrait hides. With shaking hands, you reach for the velvet throw that shields his portrait’s true age. Beneath the sheet you find crow’s feet, ashen skin, sunken eyes and shock white hair staring back at you. “Sorcery,” you say under your breath. “Nope, Hollywood,” you hear behind you, and turn to see John Stamos standing with Keanu Reeves, who has similarly sold his soul to the devil and refuses to age.
If John Stamos were your boyfriend, your orgasm would be a priority, and you would be hand fed gluten-free gnocchi every single night for the rest of your life.
If John Stamos were your boyfriend, he would text you links to Ina Garten recipes. You would text back unrelated links to bizarre vines. He would ask to go as Danny and Sandy from Grease for Halloween each year, and you’d say no. You would want to take selfies with him when you’re both naked in bed, and he’d say no. He does, however, agree to do a boudoir photoshoot. You keep the photos for the rest of your life. He outlives you, of course, because he hid his humanity in seven different horcruxes, one of which is an Olsen Twin. He lives forever, frozen in time and age, and laughs a hearty laugh.