Dearest Mr. Paul McCartney:

Has anyone ever told you that you were absolutely the hottest of all the Beatles? I mean, don’t tell Ringo, but you always looked like the sweet rebel. You know, the kind of man who likes to read and watch Maury, but also loves to go boating and play extreme dodgeball and kill others playing paintball. That’s my kind of man, you see.

I’m sure the other Beatles felt a little sad around you, I must point that out. When they came out, and you didn’t, a few girls mauled them over for their autographs. But then you came out, and a whole stampede ran you over, wanting for you to kiss their babies or sign their underpants. You smiled, and a few girls fainted. And trust me, that’s A-okay… I would faint in your presence, too.
You seem to be the shining light of the entire group… I mean, look at the picture: Everyone looks quite like the typical gorgeous bloke (except that gorgeous bloke on the left needs to work his eyebrows), but what is happening here? You all seem to be choking each other. Now, as much as I use the phrase "I will CHOKE you," I don't ever mean it literally (unless it's someone who's about to attack me-- then I won't have second thoughts.


But you are choking each other-- and seem to be enjoying it. But you look like the reasonable one in the group. Your face says it all: "Why are we choking each other? Don't you realize this could cause a health problem? Someone could get hurt. And sir, you've got quite the grip around my neck. Please stop."

You're safe and reasonable. Amazing.
(I will admit right now that in this picture Ringo Starr looks quite adorable. Like Ducky in Pretty in Pink, but sorta cooler. Not that Ducky isn’t cool in my eyes—I mean cooler to everyone else’s eyes.