Lindsay, you’re the ultimate

The following is an open letter to singer/songwriter/thespian/complete babe, Lindsay Lohan…. The following is an open letter to singer/songwriter/thespian/complete babe, Lindsay Lohan. You may have seen her gracing the silver screen in various motion pictures or looking saucy in many photo spreads for magazines.

Well, here it goes:

Dear Lindsay,

My name is Arun. I am a junior at Pitt, and I have a huge crush on you. Instead of telling you all about my “likes walks on the beach” information, I’ll cut straight to the chase. Your recently terminated relationship with Wilmer Valderrama marks you as someone who is obviously into the tall, dark and handsome.

Now, I am pretty sure why you dumped this Wilmer fellow: You heard about me and realized that I have everything he has and then some. Not only am I taller than he is, but I can speak English. This is a major plus for when you need me to soothe you after a hard day’s work, or to agree with you about that untalented wench Hillary Duff.

Of course, Wilmer, apart from being television’s Fez on “That ’70s Show,” has done some voice work for “Clifford’s Big Movie.” But has he ever written a hit column for a college newspaper? I doubt it. Arun: 2, Wilmer: 0.

Did Wilmer buy “Mean Girls” and have to endure the constant ridicule from all of his male friends after suggesting that they watch it? They don’t know what they’re missing. Did Wilmer sit through “Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen?” Oh, he did? Well, did he force himself awake and laugh at the pitiful tripe the writer tried to pass off as comedy? I did.

Can Wilmer bring you all the glory that are greasy french fries after a particularly inebriated night in South Oakland? I promise to. Does Wilmer fully appreciate the subtlety of your masterful, Dylan-like lyrics? Here’s a little gem from “A Day in the Life”: “Today is so boring / I might as well be snoring / Because I’m living up a dream / It makes me wanna scream.” Does it get any better than that? I have no idea why you haven’t gone double-platinum yet.

So far it seems like it’s Arun: 6, Wilmer: 0. I think it’s safe to say that I am much better for you; scores don’t lie.

If I hadn’t completely blown Wilmer out of the water just now, I wouldn’t even bring this up. But when we do start dating, we’ll need to have a serious talk about some of the directions in which your career is moving. Despite my earlier praise, your music career needs to end. I am not saying your music is completely horrible; I rather like it as an alternative to ritual evisceration with a dulled Allen wrench.

Of course, you’d never lip sync on national television, or exploit teen-agers on the Disney Channel like those others. Obviously, I don’t want you to stop making music because it’s absolutely terrible; I just feel that your immeasurable talent is being squandered in the world of audio, especially when the visual world is so kind to you.

I think we can make it work, Linds. Can I call you Linds? I can’t? Fair enough. Now, I know you haven’t returned any of my calls or letters, and the police were pretty mean the last time we hung out. It’s OK. I understand that you’re busy and can’t have every love interest within 100 feet of you. But if you’re not doing anything Thursday night after 11, I could take you out for some half-off food. Call me.

Sincerely,

Arun Butcher

P.S. You should probably talk to the people at collegehumor.com. They seem to have an unhealthy obsession with you.

Arun is not delusional. E-mail him to make sure at amb28@pitt.edu.