Christina Ricci, Why Won’t You Love Me?
It’s me Adam. Adam Allyne from Fuhnny.com. You probably don’t remember me, and that’s because we’ve never met or spoken. However I remember you. I’ve seen just about every movie you’ve ever done. From your Addam’s family days, to your dark spooky Ice Storm, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and Buffalo 66′ days. To your Sleepy Hollows and even wrapped in a pink bubble gum shell in Speed Racer, or dowdy and down on your luck in Bucky Larson.
We’re roughly the same age, you and I. I’m more than a fan, I’m an admirer. Your eyes open all the way past the edges of your irises, giving you a slightly manic look, that I never get tired of. You’re curvy, petite and seem to age beautifully. You’re just as pretty now as you were when you started acting.
Now, I know you’re probably in a relationship, and with full disclosure so am I. However due to your fame I’ve been given the go-ahead to try to sleep with you. I’m not sure if we can have an emotional bond without compromising both of our relationships, nor do I want graceless spin-off sex with you (although I’ll take it if it’s on the table) I’d like to be your friend with benefits. Your friend who makes you laugh and occasionally tosses an orgasm your way. I’m not high maintenance. I’m not the best looking guy in the world, but I’m not bad either. I’m friendly, funny, charming and unafraid to tell you how I feel.
I don’t want any money, or fame, or to ride your coat-tails to greater opportunity. I think you’re awesome, interesting and attractive. I love your movies and what glimpses of your personality I can glean from mainstream media, your IMDB profile and the occasional interview or magazine expose. It’s not my intent to be creepy, I’d just be one of a million (I’m sure) if I just said that I love you and want you and yadda yadda yadda in some half hearted fan mail. So instead, I opt NOT to send this to you, but to hopefully have you find it naturally and come across a well spoken argument for making a new friend, possibly getting naked with him, or least having a hell of an interesting conversation.
Why bother? You have lots of friends, you have Hollywood. You not starving for attention and your current boyfriend is probably richer and more attractive than I am. I say, carpe diem, seize the day. No, I don’t offer a significant improvement in any way. But I’m bold, outgoing, funny, and adventurous. Not in a ‘hang-gliding off the golden gate’ kind of way. But the quirky kind of adventurous that could have us drinking cocktails on the roof of a shed while playing mad-libs using only Nouns. I’m taking a chance, a dare, that you’re that kind of weird, my kind of weird.
We can be friends, we don’t have to sleep together, but I think we should have our ducks in a row, that yes, I’m attracted. I cannot lie. I mean I can, but I wouldn’t lie to you. Unless it was the deciding factor. In which case, I have 18-pack abs and I am the worlds greatest polo player. I would grow extra abs for you, and do situps for a month if we could hang out, and that’s the truth. (Except the impossible part of the previous statement)
I’m rambling now, you do that to me, even when you’re not here. But really, a phone call. Take a Chance.