Dear Paul:
As a blog that focuses on urban style parenting, I’ve written about you before. By all accounts, you’re a sweet city celebu-dad who totes his precious cargo Jack around NYC on your shoulders, romps with him in the park, ties his shoes and ensures that he gets a steady diet of star-studded play dates.
More to the point, although a lot of sad, misguided individuals claim to be your soul-mate, *I’m* the only TRUE one. I’ve provided solid rationale for why it’s so, here. I’m sure you’ve read it, but you might want to peruse it again to get that nice, warm feeling one gets from reconnecting with someone you’ve shared past lives with.
Of course, being karmically connected to you, I had to run out immediately and see your new flick I Love You, Man. And that I do. I love you. I love you. I love you.
There. I’ve said it.
I can’t help it. You’re funny. You’re sweet. You slap the bass (at least in the film). Ok, so you’re not the tallest tree in the forest… but I hear that you smell good and as far as I can tell have a full head of hair. Your career is on fire and now there are rumors floating around out there that your wife, Julie, is pregnant with your second child. Read the rest of this entry »
