Tuesday, December 07, 2004

AN OPEN LETTER TO AUDREY TAUTOU

Ms. Audrey Tautou
Attn: Claire Blondel
Artmedia
20 avenue Rapp, 75007
Paris, France


Dear Ms. Tautou:

I hope you're well.

Last evening, I had the pleasure of accompanying a friend to see your latest film, "A Very Long Engagement". What a wonderful picture. Your performance was, I am not embarrased to say, quite spectacular. I applaud you many times over. It is more than a little unfair that a woman as beautiful as you should possess such talents and charm. Truly, your presence is further proof of a partisan Creator.

This was not the first of your films I've seen. I originally witnessed your bravura in the film "Amelie" and later in the heartfelt melodrama, "Dirty Pretty Things", a film in which you utilized the most adorable English accent I have ever heard. My original concerns after watching "Amelie" - namely, that the language barrier separating you and I would be insurmountable - vanished at the first utterings from your mouth.

Though I have only seen three of your films, I feel as though I am in a unique position to contact you and ask to meet with you. You see, I live and work in Los Angeles, California, the motion-picture capital of the world. Therefore, we are not, as it might seem, strangers living in far away places but rather, as I prefer to think, colleagues. Oh, the stories I could tell you.

And I hope someday I may.

Let me be quite frank. I would like to be your lover and your friend. You have beautiful eyes. They are large and dark and they remind me of a place that I knew as a child - a place that does not exist but in the innocent mind of youth. A place that I'd still like to venture to. However, I cannot get there without you by my side.

You do not know the color of my eyes, but let me tell you that they are not unspectacular. On occasion, they have been referred to as "nice".

You have wonderful skin. In your latest film your backside is shown, in the nude, being massaged by a young and strapping swimmer. I do not believe that I am out of line to say that I wish I had been cast as the actor whose duty it was to limber up the muscles and tendons of your posterior half. Milky and smooth, I can only imagine the delight that lucky actor felt in running his hands over your body's silky epidermis.

My skin is often dry, but you should know that lately I have been using the oatmeal lotion product Aveeno to startlingly positive effect. Nor have I had a pimple in quite a few weeks.

Audrey, please do not listen to the rumors that you may have heard about me. My body does not boil over in hives during the wonderful act of making love. I am not unambitious yet arrogant, nor am I prone to overwhelming and crushing self-doubt. I am a dynamic young man. I make a wonderful vodka cream sauce, and serve it with whole-wheat organic pasta. I have a blog. I once took a class in Landscape Architecture.

Listen to me very carefully, Audrey. I do believe I am in love with you. I realize that there is more to you - much more, I'm sure - than the characters you create and portray in your films. This is the Audrey that I hope to come to know and cherish.

You may find this letter overly frank. Do not fret. I am a normal guy, wanting and needing normal things, like love. Where I am not normal, it not because I am deficient. Rather, these are areas where I surpass the status quo, such as archery and mini-shuffleboard.

I hope to hear from you soon.

Best wishes,

The American Mastodon

7 comments:

BK/CK said...

Smoove B move over, there's a new sheriff in Loveletter Town.

Analogcabin said...

Finally, the AM has found his voice. They will look back on this post and say, "This is where it all began."

By "they," I mean the retarded.

BK/CK said...

Funny-Backhanded-Compliment Town, you too have a new sheriff, and his name is Analogcabin.

Anonymous said...

Never gonna happen, ace. She's with me.

Mathis said...

If she was with you, Ace, I'd have more than a fighting chance.

Anonymous said...

How dare you.

Alisa said...

It's heartening to see men pine over women in that distant, subjective way that results from the secret workings of a romantic heart expressing itself, or a minor stint in prison. Well done!