Recently, a fellow writer wrote a review of the Netflix show, “Down to Earth With Zac Efron,” and honestly, I think she got a little sidetracked. I am all for a woman’s right to objectify a man’s body from the comfort of her own home. I would even go so far as to say that a whistle or catcall, in admiration of a gentleman’s physique, on the street is not beyond the boundaries of decency.

That being said, Zachary put his heart and soul into creating this show, and I feel it deserves a proper review. From a man. A man who certainly will not be distracted by- WHEW it IS hot in here. How can it be so hot when Zac Efron is sitting shirtless in a tub of freezing water? I bet I could get abs like that if I just did a few sit-ups and skipped my nightly Ben&Jerry’s pint on weekends.

What is he doing now? Touring some infinite energy supply plant fueled by water? Yeah, that’s great, but I wonder if I can pull off that beanie look? I don’t know why he would want to conceal that beautiful mop of hair, but damn it looks good! Why is he so goddamned cool?

Ok. Deep breath. I’ve got this. He’s just a man, traveling the world to explore sustainable living, making chocolates. Wait, WHAT?! He is making his own custom chocolate? Yes, Zac, pour that melty goodness all over the table. That’s right, now swirl it around- gently- mmm, now carefully pour it into the mold, it’s like you’ve been doing this for years… Shit! What do I have in this house? A mini Snickers bar from last Halloween? Fuck it, it’ll have to do. Tastes like ass compared to what you just made, I’m sure.

Ok, so it is apparently impossible to pay attention to anything Zac Efron is talking about in this show, but I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let that stop me. I apologize to my colleague, and all women in general, for thinking that giving this show a proper review was a man’s job. It simply cannot be done.