Dear James Franco,
Honestly, I’m not even sure if I should be writing you this letter, I contemplated three people to possibly write to and picked you because you most likely will never see this and because I am full of cowardice, I think that’s good. My infatuation with you began with the movie Never Been Kissed. I was like.. 11. It was pretty gross, I kept you hidden for the majority of my young life, because I didn’t want anyone else to like you… that was obviously very effective… that was sarcasm, I’m assuming you’re good at picking up on it, because in my head, you’re pretty damn perfect, even though I know good and well you may very well be dumb as a rock or smell like a fucking foot, I choose to disregard that, because I will never meet you and I will keep you at the prime of perfection for as long as I possibly can. I understand, you generally like scrawny white hipster bitches - tis coo’, I just wanted you for sex anyway. Jussayin’. Peace and blessings be unto you, even though you’ll probably never even read this.
Cheers,
illa.
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vocabulary spills.