Dear David Bowie,
I thought you were really sexy in Labyrinth, which came out when I was a toddler. Some two-year-olds are into Big Bird; some prefer Mr. Rogers, but I was a totally rock 'n' roll kid, and something about the way you looked in those tight spandex leggings really shook my rattle, if you know what I mean.
Anyway, I know you're married to Iman and all, and that you're even making an exception to your year off from music [TMT News] to perform at the Keep a Child Alive Annual Black Ball, which your wife will be hosting. But I just want you to know that I'll be there, November 9, at Hammerstein Ballroom, not because I really give a fuck about AIDS, but because I can't believe I wasted the opportunity to jump your (cheek)bones when I met you last year. Now, don't pull that "faithful husband" shit on me. I know you were banging Iggy Pop the whole time you were married to Angie. I hear you even managed to swing a few rolls in the hay with Mick Jagger.
So, I want you to think about my little proposition. You, me, backstage, AIDS benefit. It could be pretty hot. I'll wear those little panties I wore in Lost in Translation; you can wear the aforementioned spandex...
Dance, magic dance,
Scarlett
P.S. I'm taping your appearance on Ricky Gervais's HBO/BBC show, Extras, so I can watch it over and over again... in private.
