biensoul


a required taste for the pretentious as all get out


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marry me, chuck klosterman
July 06, 2005, 11:59 am

Dear Mr. Chuck Klosterman,

Your work has recently come to my attention, having picked up Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs in a B0rders bargain bin (or was it the 3 for 2 sale? I don't remember). I found your insights amusing, particularly the Cusack-syndrome you alluded to in your first chapter. No lie, I was at the movies a few weeks ago with my sisters and a Cusack film preview came on; every woman in the theatre (ages from 13-46) GASPED and CHEERED. It's a Pavlovian reaction programmed into our skulls at birth: John Cusack = The One. But that's neither here nor there...

Last night I finished Killing Yourself to Live, your memoir regarding your cross-country tour of what a bunch of dead rockers saw last as they died. I read your book in one day while my boyfriend played video games and ordered Chinese food. Mr. Klosterman, I have a proposal for you:

Let's get married.

Seriously. I want to marry you and have a zillion little Chuck Klostermans: snarky pop culture critics with Buddy Holly glasses and moppy hair. I'd like to self-referentially expose all my ex-lovers through my art; I'd like to make Douglas Coupland my friend. I'd like to be your wife, Chuck Klosterman! I want to wake up in the morning, sleepily replaying our trysts from the night before and second-guessing every word I say in fear of sounding stupid in front of you!

If you'd like to take me up on this offer, feel free to email me at biensoul at hotmail dot com. I must warn you that my boyfriend, while not the jealous type, may take a bit of an issue with you stealing me away, so don riot gear or something.

Sincerely,

Jessica Biensoul
Your Future Wife

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