In a an article yesterday over on Variety, “New Girl’s” man-slut Schmidt (played by Max Greenfield), apparently over his relationship with CeCe, began courting three television favorites: “Game of Thrones” Daenerys Targaryen, “Homeland’s” Carrie, and Mrs. Patmore from “Downton Abbey. He penned a love letter to each:
Oh no girl. You a dragon queen! You have everything I want in a woman — you’re smart, you wear diapers, and you kind of look like Orlando Bloom in Lord of the Rings. People told me I’d never find a woman who speaks gibberish and is also kind of a cannibal, but — never say never.
Just a couple of heads up for when we do it: I actually would prefer if you didn’t set yourself on fire around me. It’s sexy, but it’s not worth losing a pair of pants over … Finally, if I get you pregnant with dragon eggs, how do you feel about us raising them Jewish? They can eat raw horse hearts and long as they celebrate Purim. (Smiley face!) I’ve got a baby dragon in my pants … LOL.
To Mrs. Patmore:
I know all the other ladies are getting all the attention, but I like your style. You’ve got those big cook hand you like I like. Keep doing your thing. I’ll go upstairs or downstairs, you know I will.
To Carrie Mathison:
Yo. You don’t know me. My name is Schmidt. Here are some reasons we should make love. No. 1: You are a CIA Agent. No. 2: You cray cray, and I like. If you’re bi-polar, does that mean you’re bi-curious? Because, lucky you, I’m try-curious. You can take me to that crazy cabin in the woods, tack stuff to that wall, turn on some creepy jazz…I don’t care if you sneak into my house and put cameras up in all my business. Lithium? Lithi-yum. No. 3: Uh-oh, I got a bomb strapped on me. Uh-oh. It’s my junk. Boom! … Knock, knock. It’ sme. Wearing one of your pantsuits, you manic-depressive lil mama.”
Schmidt is the best, although I’m a little disappointed he didn’t make a move on Joan Harris. “Yo girl with the crazy top shelf. Your husband left you to be with other sweaty men who shoot guns. You lonely? You are the dopest, flyest, smartest, ballsiest woman that’s ever held a cigarette. How about I stub it out for you, and I put on my slipperiest loafers and work on you like a common ranch hand.”