This is the photo that dreams are made of.

Well, my dreams at least. [Minus Anne Hathaway; I could take or leave that bitch.] 

There are so many magical things to cover here:

1. OMG JAMES FRANCO AND OPRAH ARE TOUCHING. Like, skin-to-skin contact, or tux-to-boob contact, whatever, THEY'RE TOUCHING. And it's like they're touching my soul, too. This photo makes me feel like I'm swimming in an endless sea of buttery mashed potatoes listening to Girl Talk and watching an endless loop of Jean Claude Van Damme dancing in spandex. [Read: my happy place.]

2. Do you think Oprah even knows who James Franco is? Or, what if she's, like, the biggest closet James Franco fan ever? What if the only way Oprah cures a hangover is by cuddling with Gayle on the couch, eating a bucket of chicken and watching Pineapple Express? 

3. How stoned does James Franco look? According to this article from Gawker: "hella". And I agree. And I think it's fucking awesome. Here is how it looks mathematically.

Before I saw this photo I felt like this:

         my undying love for James Franco = infinity

And now I feel like this:

       my undying love for James Franco = infinity to the nth degree

4. Remember that episode of 30 Rock where Liz Lemon sits next to Oprah on a plane, but then it turns out that she was just on some 'ludes that Jack gave her before takeoff? And she was actually discussing her favourite things with some sassy black 13-year-old? That has little to no relevance here, but it pretty much blew my mind. Oh, okay, and there was also that one episiode of 30 Rock where James Franco guest stars, playing himself, and he's supposed to be fake-dating Jenna only for it to eventually be discovered that he is madly in love with a Japanese body pillow.

James Franco, I want to watch bad reality television with you, and stare into your dimples without feeling like a creep, and I'll make you all the frozen jalapeno poppers you want if we can just make babies together.

-t,baby.