Dear Mr. James Spader,
You are the sex. You are like a sexy android. (Are you an android?) You are like Clango from Diesel Sweeties, only with nice hair. I would be your Maura, or better yet, your Pale Suzie. When I saw you on Boston Legal last night, I wanted to hear you smoothly elocute dirty things to me, like "What a lovely ass you have. Please lay it down on my couch. I will now fuck you, if you would find that pleasurable."
And I would, Mr. James Spader. Especially after seeing you dance with Mr. William Shatner. But mostly when you are being a lawyer. Lawyers are the sex (much like androids and yourself). When I see you on my television, little heart bubbles rise from my head, then burst midair.
I know it could never work between us, Mr. James Spader; you are a sexy android (and sometimes lawyer), and I am only a mere mortal woman (whom you have never in your life met). Someone with hair as nice as yours could never devote himself to just one person. You must spread your sexy android love. I shall live with my dreams.
But if you want to call me sometime and say sexy things, be my guest. Hot like wasabi!
love (with little heart bubbles)
Kitty
<3<3<3<3<3<3
listening:
reading:
ingesting:
(see entries before 20.11.05)
previously on Smothered Hope:
unreal - 20.05.08
in which our narrator kinda just babbles on a bit - 15.05.08
drank several margaritas last night. they were great. - 04.05.08
spacey - 29.04.08
i will most definitely regret posting this in public - 28.04.08