* This letter to Ryan Lochte comes after watching Ryan’s new show What Would Ryan Lochte Do? on E! last night. *
Dear Ryan Lochte,
You are a super talented swimmer with a ton of sneakers. You have beautiful abs, super soft looking hair, and a playful grin that would rival any boy on any elementary school playground.
You have a family that adores you, and a line of girls as long as the lines at chicken restaurants waiting for you to take them out for sushi.
It’s sweet when you are asked a question and it takes you the entire length of the Friends theme song to answer. I thought I would hate that about you.
I thought I would hate you, Ryan Lochte.
It turns out that I want to marry someone like you – maybe even you, if I can teleport to wherever you are and strut my chunky ass in front of your face.
I never thought I would love you, but I find myself picking out your clothes (a propeller hat and a swimsuit) and your lunch (Goldfish crackers and root beer).
I don’t know if you would ever love a girl like me – swimming gives me gas and being on television would give me anxiety; I would have to draw on your bellybutton every single day to ease the pain.
Just know that you, Ryan Lochte, are like a prize at the bottom of a cereal box.
Until we meet,
I’ve always been an under-the-couch surfer. I’d never stuck my hands into the deep abyss of a couch cushion before, it was always “Let’s look under the couch and go hunting!” No one ever played along with me, though, and I was always left breathless on my tummy for a good ten minutes before I gave up and went back outside to search for the Ice Cream Man.
Oh yeah, that’s me.
Even though I’m in my twenties, I still hope to find a real treasure under a couch. It doesn’t have to be my couch. In fact, it could even be your couch. These would be acceptable treasures:
- Zac Efron
- A stale meatball (because every meatball is a good meatball)
- My future wedding ring (what an amazing proposal that would be!)
- The iPhone 7
- A Mary Poppins bag
- Mary Poppins
- A hand to hold
If anyone has ever found anything under a couch, I would love to hear about it.
When I was a young girl, nothing made me happier than devouring a cookie. My mother would give me one every other year, but Daddy knew what his favorite girl liked best. We would drive around in the car with Britney Spears on the radio, my chubby lips touching sprinkles, chocolate, and creamy icing. There was nothing else better – except getting money for my birthday.
When the world begins to show tremendous sadness, it reminds us to cling to what we felt as children. I always felt best while being outside eating sweets – that’s why I dragged my sweet-toothed booty out of the house today to catch a little bit of happiness.