While most people took on simple quarantine tasks (such as using their kitchen oven for the first time), NYC performer — and "the cutest boy in the world" — Marty Miller embarked on a more ambitious project.
Starting the first day of isolation, Miller began creating hilarious puppet videos (50 to date) featuring pop songs from stars like Sam Smith and Ariana Grande, who both shared his performances on their Instagrams.
For PAPER's month-long comedy series, It's Nice to Laugh, we've asked Miller to write love letters to all the things getting him through quarantine. The first installment of With Love is an ode to Miller's right hand.
My dearest right hand,
To the surprise of no one I haven't accomplished much today. Sure I made lists and set goals, but to be productive when you just purchased your first ring light? Impossible. Maybe I'll go for a run. Maybe I'll take four showers. Maybe I'll watch and rewatch Shakira and J. Lo change my life at the Super Bowl (dumb name). Regardless of what I get up to it will inevitably end up with me, a gorgeous excuse for a man, needing to scratch a certain itch... as they say. Sadly, I'm not what they call ambidextrous, so the task at hand falls directly to you. And you, my love, never disappoint.
Throughout the day I catch myself thinking of you and the time we could be spending together. I sit atop my favorite chair and contemplate the idea of spending that time now. But in the end I wait; our time together is best served in the evening like two pints of Ben and Jerry's (non-dairy, I'm not sick) or 100 glasses of wine. I try to distract myself, to pull myself from your wanting gaze. I turn to television, but alas it leaves me thinking only of you. After watching an episode of Glee, I need you. After watching nearly half the Star Wars franchise (who am I?), I need you. I've never seen Avatar, but just thinking about it has me penciling you in.
TV and movies only prove to make matters worse. In a psychotic moment of bravery, I turn my energy towards exercise (boring). I go for a run and make what I think is eye contact with the hottest person I've ever seen. Truth be told I think he just had something in his eye and I was just, well, staring. Regardless, this isn't a Rom Com, it's quarantine. It can't be him so it must be you. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. Even if this wasn't quarantine it probably (absolutely) wouldn't be him, it would be you. It is always you.
You can be anyone I want you to be. You are transformative, powerful. With the closing of my eyes you are no longer a blonde knuckled, unmanicured appendage. No, you are much, much more. You are Harrison Ford valiantly saving me from the death star (or whatever). You are Trouty Mouth thrusting your way through a mashup that doesn't quite mash up. You are Chip Skylark, or Danny Phantom, or any of those other hot, animated twinks. You make me stronger, happier. You make my heart race and body quiver. To be quite frank my darling, you make me cum.