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Dear Stacy Keibler,
Right off of the bat, let me get something off of my chest: Yes, a few months ago I wrote a letter similar to this one, and it was addressed to Tiffani Thiessen. I'm assuming you've already read it, yes? Anyway, please don't think that you're my second choice. In reality, that couldn't be further from the truth!
Did the former Kelly Kapowski drop everything and come running into my arms like I blindly assumed she would? Shockingly, no. But I'm actually glad she spurned my advances. It showed how cold-hearted she really is. She's not the right woman for me.
But, Stacy, you're an entirely different breed of cat, babe. You're pure class.
Now, before I go any further, let me address the elephant in the room. You're on the rebound. You and the Cloondog just ended a long-term relationship. And, yes, he is an international megastar. But you're Stacy Keibler, damnit! Who is he to break things off with you? Sure, he starred in "The Descendants," "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" and the "Ocean's 11" franchise. But guess what, Keibs?! He was also in "Spy Kids" and "The Facts of f**king Life!"
You're better than that! You're a former WWE Women's Champion, for God's sake!
Yeah, that's right, I know all about your past in the squared circle. And I respect it wholeheartedly. In fact, I vividly remember the first time I saw you wrestle. It was way back in 2002. You were competing in a bra-and-panties match against Trish Stratus on "Monday Night Raw." And at its conclusion, when you tore off Trish's pants and spanked her to score the win, I thought to myself, "Wow, that's a world-class athlete, right there!"
In short, Stacy, not only do I love your body, but also your body of work.
I'll be honest: I can't whisk you away on a private jet. That's just not in the cards for me. (My jet's in the shop! LoLz!) But something tells me that you're sick of all that glitz and glamour anyway. I mean, sure, you know what it's like to drink champagne in Saint-Tropez, but I'll bet you don't know the joy of downing a few southwestern egg rolls at Chili's. Let me show you that joy, Stacy!
And an added bonus: TMZ is almost never at the Chili's in my town.
Stacy, at the end of the day, you and I are just two crazy kids looking for love, right? Well, look no further. Sure, I may not be filthy rich, incomprehensibly famous or friends with Barack Obama, but I am taller than that small-fry Clooney. That's gotta count for something, right?
We'd look great in pictures together. And, as luck would have it, I just so happen to have a Kodak disposable in my pocket ready to go. Write back soon. Let's do this thing.
P.S. I totally put out.