Oh Sweet Mercy.

In my apartment, we have our very own Sheldon Cooper.
He eats otter-pops in my kitchen.
Has his own broom closet by the front door.
The dude's contaminated all of the apartment bathrooms at one point or another.

Heck. The man practically lives on my couch.
(You remember. This one.)

Point is:
though irritating at times, everyone loves Sheldon Cooper.

Take our apartment for example.
We are all avid 'Big Bang Theory-ers'. (Word to the wise. Don't try to abbreviate that title in any way, shape for form. It will be to your detriment. Especially when you tell your visiting teachees that you are an avid 'Big Bang-er'. Not that I would know...)

Truth be told, our very own Sheldon hates the nickname. Or perhaps just lives in a constant state of denial? (It's not just a river in Egypt you know...)

Therefore, we may have to resort to the next best thing for all future references. And so, without further ado, I present:

The Many Talents of Davey-Baby.

Bambi eyes.

Elbow licking.

Giant tongue.

Giant tallness.

Sultry looks while teeter-tottering in a flirty apron.

Sultry looks while wearing a zebra striped Snuggie.

Now.
Prepare.
For the smolder.

  

Professor. Pedophile. Same dif'.
(It must be said that I applied the mustache. Hidden talents EVERYWHERE.)

Ever seen a man run on all fours like a bear?
Or a crazed, psychotic, animalic baby-killer?

I mean, come on! This guy's got it goin' on.

And he's even starting to embrace his Sheldon-like tendencies.
So long as we remember that 'he is not crazy!'

His mother had him tested.