An Open Letter To Lindsay Lohan

Lindsay,

It's getting bad. Nay, it's getting ridiculous. Another paparazzi-caused car accident? Really? This is absurd. When will they leave you alone, Lindsay? When will they realize that you just want to be left alone? When will they understand that underneath all the hot and the crazy, you’re just like any normal girl?

Well, they won’t. They are the paparazzi and it is their job to be scum. And I know this from personal experience. While not quite as famous as you, I have had some run-ins in the past with the paparazzi, two of which ended in manslaughter and one of which ended in awkward, mostly clothed sex in a hotel room in Valencia. Not my finest moment. But at least he properly taught me how to throw a football, which was good.

The point is that since the paparazzi will never back off you, you need to take drastic measures if you want to get your life back to normal. And that is where I come in.

Since there's no real way to tip-toe around this, I’m just gonna come out and say it: Lindsay, I think you and I should start dating.

I know, I know – you’re thinking, “But you’re not attractive at all, nor are you rich, famous, or even on speaking terms with your family”. And I admit that this is all true (though in my defense, my cousins are the ones not speaking to me – I tried to frame you for insurance fraud like six months ago guys, get over it).

But this is precisely why we should start dating. If you and I start going out, it’s a win-win situation for everyone involved. First and foremost, I make out great. The press from dating Lindsay Lohan will drive traffic to my blog, which is always good, since like most bloggers my self-esteem is directly linked to how many people read the site. Also, my parents would be happy, because if I were dating you, it’d be plain to see that I am, in fact, not gay, refuting something that my mom’s coworkers and my dad’s dad have thought for years. And of course, there’s the whole benefit of me being able to touch you in all your secret places. Which would be nice, I guess.

For you, the benefits would be even better. If the press and paparazzi got wind that you were dating someone like me – some boring dickhead with a blog who spends most of his time on the couch complaining about how hungover he is and how much his heart hurts – the paparazzi would drop you like a bag of herpes. Of course, there’d be some hubbub when we started dating (i.e. “Lindsay Goes Fat”, “What is She Doing With HIM???”, “Lohan Hits All Time Low”, etc), but once that died down, you’d be left alone. Why would the paparazzi be interested in our relationship, when I so clearly suck?

And then, when we are dating, all will be perfect. Although I am rather self-deprecating on this here blog, I assure you that in real life I am a very good boyfriend. You and I can go into seclusion together, where we will eat very much, so that we can fatten you up a bit and re-grow those glorious breasts you once sported. To this end, I will take care of you in our little secluded cabin, where we will only have the following items:

· Potato chips
· Bacon
· Cheez Whiz
· Budweiser
· Vodka
· Black-on-black pornography
· Lots of guns

We will spend a year in this cabin, talking to no one, getting to know everything about each other, being in love, making love (and pancakes). After a year, we will emerge and will embark on our respective careers: you, acting, and me, street fighting. By then, the paparazzi will have found its new “it” girl and will permanently leave you alone. All because we started dating.

So please, Lindsay, reply at your earliest convenience. Not because I have other stuff going on, but because I’m very lonely and am afraid of what I might do to myself and my neighbor Brian if I don’t touch a woman soon.

I look forward to hearing from you. Soon we will be cruising along the Pacific Coast Highway in your BMW convertible, listening to something fun and harmony-ish, laughing with each other. Of course, you will be driving, so that I can kneel in the passenger seat to shoot at any paparazzi chasing us, but the good news is that I have terrific aim (my daddy taught me only a few things, but one of them was how to shoot from a moving car - lucky for us).

Until then,
I am,
Eternally yours,
Standing at the bus stop,
Sucking on a lollipop,
John