Dear Sarah,
I want to make hilarious babies with you. Jimmy Kimmel seems like a really nice guy, but he's also short, chubby, not really cute, and, like, fourth in the late-night ratings. I, on the other hand, am the perfect match for you. My psychic adviser has confirmed this on several occasions. Lady Starr -- my close friend and personal conduit to the psychic realm -- said she definitely saw romance with a special someone in my future. She said she was getting an "F" or a "V," and that she saw "running water." It was amazing! "F" is obviously for "funny," which you most certainly are. And there's a "V" right there in the middle of Silverman! I figure running water refers to the fact that you make me laugh so hard that I pee myself constantly. Seriously. Those adult diapers are surprisingly expensive! I wish I could stop thinking about you so much, because between the constant pants-wetting and Lady Starr's rates ($2 for the fist minute, $.95 for each additional minute), my paycheck from Mail Boxes Etc. can hardly keep up!
I'm so happy for you that they've given you Dave Chappelle's old job. You certainly deserve it. You deserve any job you want. I will give you anything you want. Really. Want me to kill someone? I will. I think about killing for you all the time.
Anyway, I have to get going. The lunchtime rush is about to start and those UPS shipments can't pack themselves!
I love you and want you to have our unbelievably talented and funny children. Also, I would let you lick jelly off my penis whenever you want. Really. Anything to keep you happy and fulfilled.
I love you, Sarah Silverman.
Love,
Steven Wertz, Assistant Manager, Mail Boxes Etc.
No comments:
Post a Comment