A Letter To Cindy Crawford (From Ralph)

November 7, 1992

Dear Cindy,

Holy crap am I ever in love with you and then some. I always just dream that if we could get married one day and have our honeymoon somewhere like at my Pap’s hunting cabin or someplace exotic like Ocean City, Maryland.  We could head down to the beach, play catch with those velcro things, then later we could lay out in the sand and I could rub suntan lotion on your back.  You would probably say “Oh Ralph, that feels so good.  Don’t ever stop rubbing Banana Boat lotion on me, you manly stud muffin.”  You probably get it all the time so I won’t go on for too much, but I think you are probably THEE hottest babe next to Pamela Anderson, Paula Abdul, and Six from that show Blossom.

I really like your mole. I have moles on my back, arms, legs, chest, face, and pretty much everywhere, except for I don’t got no moles on my privates.   I think your mole looks sexy on you.  Not everyone looks as good with face moles.  Take for example this girl in my class, Tiffany Sanders, who has a mole kinda’ like yours, only her mole covers half her face and has these long, straggly hairs growing out of it.  I always tease her and tell her if I can pluck the hairs from her mole so I can make a toupee for my Pap.  Boy does that ever get her worked up, and she’ll go on and say “How about I knock your hillbilly teeth down your throat and make you shit chicklets out of your ass for the next couple weeks.”  She cracks me up.  Me and her is always goofing around like that.  Do you like to goof around Cindy?  What are your favorite hobbies?

I wanted to tell you this one last thing before I let you go.  I use to have this sexy poster of you hanging on my bedroom wall.  You shoulda’ seen it.  Part of your bathing suit was see through and if you looked close enough – which trust me, I did pretty much every single night – you could see your nipples as plain as day.  It was my favorite poster up until my nosy Gram barged in on me one night and caught me cutting a hole in the mouth of the poster so I could French kiss it.  My stupid Gram made me get rid of it.  She says that God don’t like when you lust after women and He especially don’t like you kissing no posters of half naked women with their bazoombas hanging out all over the place.   Now I just have posters of NBA basketball players on my wall.  It ain’t nearly the same when I stare at Clyde “The Glide” Drexler going for a dunk as it was staring at a beautiful fox like you.

Anyway, the whole reason I’m writing to you in the first place is to ask you if you want to go steady with me.  You don’t half to answer back right away cause I’m still waiting to hear back from Pamela, Paula Abdul, and Six, so take your time to think it over if you need to.  I included an eighth grade class photo of me so you at least know what I look like.  Gram says I look handsome but I don’t know.  She says that Pap looks handsome too and I think his face looks like he ran into a telephone pole and was run over by a Ford F-150 several times.  Hopefully you will think I’m handsome too.

Forever yours if you’ll have me,