See, here’s the thing. Over the last decade, David Spade has been romantically linked to this woman, this woman, and this woman:

and, more recently, he’s been linked to Heather Locklear, and, of course, the lovely Jillian Grace:

while everyone knows perfectly well that David Spade looks like this:

Now, I know that looks aren’t everything, but–come on. David Spade might be the funniest man on earth, with a scintillating personality and the kindness of a saint. He might fly his first dates to Paris in a solid gold Lear jet and be hung like a Clydesdale, and with a phizz like that his sexual history would still be as baffling as particle physics. I can only assume that his basic date kit includes a bottle of roofies and a rag soaked in chloroform. That, or he’s found a cologne that makes women absolutely deranged with lust. Maybe I’ll try Hai Karate.
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I’ve never understood the appeal, myself. He’s a whiny little twerp.
I could have added several more names to that list (although Pamela Anderson would have seriously weakened my point). All kidding aside, his appeal really is a mystery.
[...] David Spade fathered the spawn of a Playboy Bunny, continuing his baffling streak of nailing hot ass even though he looks like a chipmunk with special needs. (AB) [...]
his appeal really is a mystery
He’s not better looking than his ladies. That can be an issue. And if he happens to be hung like a Clydesdale, so much the better.
They’re only interested in what’s in his pants. That’s right: his wallet.
[...] Birth, christening, DNA test, court order: Miss Manners, David Spade on Line One (AgentBedhead) [...]
He’s like a cross between Tom Petty and Woody Allen. I just don’t get it.