By James Keller
Dear Catherine,
I was shocked, hurt and confused when I read my local daily newspaper not too long ago. I opened to the second page and was pleasantly surprised to see your beautiful blond smile staring back at me. But that joy soon turned to sorrow, and that sorrow soon turned to disbelief. And if that wasn’t enough, that disbelief soon turned to anger and that anger soon turned to rage. Then after it was all over, the rage turned, once again, back to sorrow.
It seems that "wedding bells" may be "ringing" sometime "next year" for you and Chad What’s-His-Face. Why, Catherine? Why would you do this to me? I thought we had something special. I thought we were in love.
I’ve decided to change your mind. So I’m here at my computer, with my heart in hand and a bottle of Jack on the table, to convince you that you should dump this frumpy yahoo and live with me instead.
First, I’m a celebrity. No, not in your Tom Cruise sense of the word–not even in the John Ritter sense of the word–but a celebrity nonetheless. Thousands of lemmings, err, faithful readers read my witty comments on life and love in the Gauntlet every week. It may only be three lines at a time, but I’m changing the world, baby, and now I’m gonna change yours.
How famous is this nobody you’re after, anyway? He works at a golf association? Who the hell works at a golf association anyway? Can he provide for you? Put money on the table? Even if he can, would you want him to?
Let’s face it. Your dad is washed up. His political career is over and, baby, you’re sinking with the boat. Will Chad stick by you when your job of Conservative pretty face no longer holds value in the Canadian media? Guess what: I am the media. I control what people want because I give it to them. Spoon-fed and homemade, and there’s not a damn thing anyone can do about it.
So, here’s my proposal. We get married, and after a lengthy honeymoon far, far away from Alliance territory, we come back and begin our reign as media icons.
You’re right for me and I’m right for you, so let’s cut to the chase and unite the right once and for all.
I can see the bottle running low so I’d better go get another. I’ll leave you to agree with my offer and give you ample time to call things off with this whole wedding thing you’ve deluded yourself into.
Who knows, you might even get laid.
Love always,
