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An Open Letter To Dan Bilzerian

Dan B

Dear Dan Bilzerian,

I was so excited to see you as a guest on the show “The Comments Section” on E! I was watching the tube while I waited for my laundry to be done swirling in heat (your clothes probably just show up clean, right?), and I clapped when your hairy face walked on stage.

For one, I sometimes want to be you. When I’m having a particularly bad woman day full of emotion, feelings and cramps, I say to myself “I wish I were a man! Dan Bilzerian to be exact.” I put this thought out into the universe because that is The Secret and my hope is that one day I’ll wake up and be you. I wouldn’t even question it or act horrified like they do in the movies. I’d just yank my new wank, walk on to my deck, jump off the yacht and go for a morning swim around the Riviera as a bevy of babes prepared my breakfast.

I was also excited to see you because I have a question for you. I was hoping the host, Michael Kosta, would ask and lucky me, he did!

After showing a video of a yacht party with a bunch of gyrating hot girls that are about to age out, Michael asked if you ever get bored of that. 

You looked at the video, then the camera, smirked, and said “That doesn’t look boring to me.”

It doesn’t! I know a bunch of men who’d love to watch (touch, and do the sex with) girls licking champagne off each others firm bodies. My husband is one of those mens. Like, duh. No fucking kidding your yacht party is the most non-boring male playground in existence.

But you didn’t answer the question.

No, it doesn’t look boring but does it ever bore you? DOES IT? I think it might. The same thing all the time gets boring, in marriage and in the single life. So, as I examined your eyes and your bashful smile, I determined that yes, you do get bored by that scene.

His next question was about love. Have you ever been in love?

You said yes. Once or twice. You blushed. It was cute! A hairy-faced man in love always tickles my lady pickle.

But then you said the only pussy you’re in love with nowadays is your cat, the sexy feline sensation known as Smushball.

I saw the sadness in your eyes. (Do you need a hug? OK!) I also saw that what you really want in life is a nice girl with a banging body, her own bank account, and someone who can hold an interesting conversation, and not just on her ass cheeks. Maybe she even has a career of her own that doesn’t involve being naked. Imagine that!

Since the girls you surround yourself with look like they collectively have the IQ of a kakapo, I see why you’re having difficulty finding real true love. Fret not, I have a solution!

Because I am a kind and giving woman, I’d like to offer myself for your love. (For your consideration: I have abs, a bi-coastal accent, cook really well sometimes, am exceptional at beard petting, and have the IQ of a goat.) With this love, I allow you to send drones to my neighborhood to check up on me, invite me to your yacht parties, and throw me off a roof. I won’t sue!

Of course, my husband might be jealous because he has been trying to throw me off a roof for years. But whatever, enough about him, let’s talk about US. Even though I’m not quite available, that is the most intense sort of love. Something to work hard for. A challenge, if you will.

Think about it, won’t you? It will be more fun this way.

Dan, I hope you find that special someone to take to Applebee’s on a Friday night even if it’s not me. I think you’re  a cuddle bear with a sweet and gentle heart and deserve the embrace of someone who truly cares about you and Smushball. The type of care that will still be felt if your millions and sexy ass beard are long gone. Don’t shave. Ever. 

Until then, keep calm and party on.

Best,
Dan Diana

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