You're not really my type [sorry, I forgot to ask if you were sitting down. You're married anyway, and she loves you enough to convert for you, so you'll get over it.] But when you rock your debonair, very non-nebbishy je ne sais quois (lo yodaya ma) thing, it really works. And when you are in a sea of moribund politicians, you really shine. Yesterday, though, you spent the Inauguration playing the cute card and making cute faces. And while you're certainly handsome, you're not really cute-- endearing bug eyes aside. And when you are trying to be cute while standing next to Sasha and Malia Obama, YOU WILL FAIL! See below.
p.s. this, of course, all changes, if you're willing to pull out the old ballet shoes and tutu which won you a scholarship to the Joffrey Ballet ballet company. Then your cuteness quotient sky rockets.
p.p.s. If you don't like this letter you can ignore it or challenge me to a dancing duel. But please, don't send any dead fish.
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