Hopelessly Devoted to You, Jaime Murray

Dear Jaime,

For months now, I have written about you over and over again. Ever since I started watching “Hustle,” that amazing BBC television series, I can’t get enough of you. You’re absolutely gorgeous in a “please sit in my lap” sort of way. What can I say? I’m forever attracted to those “girl next door” types and you’ve got that down to a tee.

I’m sure you know that you are by far the most popular search term bringing people to my blog. Every day, search engines all around the globe (including France) are searching for “Jaime Murray” and “Jaime Murray boyfriend” and “Jaime Murray naked” and “Jaime Murray is so bloody hot for Karl it’s unbelievable how can those two not be together already.”

Seriously, we’re talking at LEAST 25 searches a day. I don’t know how I got to be such a Jaime Murray mecca but I’m not bitching. It could be a lot worse. Like if I were an American Idol mecca. Or maybe a naked Paul Reubens mecca, that’d be pretty bad. Or a Trisha Yearwood mecca – ugh, please, I don’t even want to think about that one. I’d just as soon eat monkeys with a bunch of bears in Amsterdam. Did you hear about that, by the way? Who knew that bears were just waiting to electrocute monkeys so they could eat them? It really has me looking at Amsterdam bears in a whole new way. I don’t think I’ll ever feel safe walking the Red Light district again. Well, it’s not like I walk it a lot, mind you. I’ve only been the one time, actually. Tell you what, though, if I ever do get back to Amsterdam I’ll freak the hell out if I see any bears sitting behind the windows. They’d be all “hey there, homosapien boy, come on in. Roll around in these special herbs and spices. Me love you long time.” Yeah, the allure of the red lights…it’s all but gone for me now.

Have you been receiving the letters I’ve been sending you? I only ask because I haven’t gotten a reply in quite some time. Like…ever. You’re not one of those celebrities that goes all Hollywood and has
assistants or even entire companies answering all of your mail, are you? That would really be quite unsettling. I mean, when I carefully collected all of my clipped toenails and nostril hairs for six months and mailed them to you, I totally wasn’t thinking that anyone but you would be lovingly perusing them. Or when I created that poster-sized likeness of you using only Elmer’s glue and the whisker shavings out of my electric shaver. That took a long time, Jaime. Have you ever sat and
rubbed Elmer’s glue all over your hands and then let it dry so you could slowly peeeeel it off? It’s so cool. But it’s not nearly as cool when you dunk yourself naked into a vat of Elmer’s and then try peeling that off. I’m just saying…don’t even try it. It hurts, peeling that glue off from certain areas of your body. Unless you’re totally clean-shaven.

So what’s the deal, Jaime? Are you saving up your letters and e-mails to me? I’d much rather you just send them all to me piecemeal. I don’t want there to be this awkward silence between us. I think we’ve
got a much better relationship than that, don’t you? I believe I’ve earned your love and trust. I’ve guarded your flat off and on for months and months, keeping all of the undesirables away from you. Do you have any idea how many dogs walk by your place? I’ll tell you how many: 263, that’s how many. I’m waiting to hit 300 before I take all the bagfulls of them to this taxidermist friend of mine. He assures me he can carry out my vision of the incredible stuffed dog wall. Wait until you see it, I’ve been painstakingly designing it every night into the wee hours. And after that I have another fantastic design. I won’t spoil it for you, but think about how many rats and cockroaches there may be in your neighborhood.

I’d love to get together again soon. I mean, you know, when you and I are both conscious and I’m not licking the teeny little hairs in your armpits. (I like that European thing, by the way, so don’t feel
required to shave that hair.) Just let me know when your schedule is open and I’ll be there faster than Lindsay Lohan can strip and raise her legs in the air. Seriously, Jaime, we are destined to be
together. I think it’s obvious.  I don’t even need a starring role in a future episode of “Hustle,” either. A cameo will do just fine.

I love you, Jaime. Please don’t force me to prove it. Again.

Yours forever,

Karl