Let’s go to an amusement park, James Franco. Let’s eat funnel cake and run around in the sun while we laugh at our own terrible jokes. Let’s tell people we are secret spies pretending to be a wine tasting couple. Let’s sing songs together. Or I could just make videos of you lip syncing, that’s cool too.
Let’s fight about how I don’t think Seth Rogen is really talented. You can be mad at me on principle for not watching 127 hours but you get it, I know you get it, we’re cool, you just want the attention this fight will bring.
Let’s fight our way through your time in grad school. It sucks, I know, I just got done myself. I ranted about it for two years before it went away. Let’s hate on grad school together. Let’s have days when we cope with stress with mini M.I.A dance parties.
You and me together James, we would be called ‘Games’. We’d tell each other stories. Ah, the stories we’d tell each other. Between us, we have the best family stories, college stories, roommate stories, work stories, and when all else fails, we have Doctor Who and that time you played a body-pillow loving version of yourself on 30 Rock. Let’s tell each other our stories as we take touristy tram rides in San Francisco while eating ice-creams and carrying tote bags of fruit.
Let’s spend summer afternoons in the Bay Area recreating that piano scene from Spring Breakers. Let’s play tennis and have drinks with my friends. You will love them, J. And they will love you. They will know exactly why you were the only person who could’ve pulled this look off.
Let’s act ‘spicious, James, and let’s be in love. Let’s grow on each other like Spring Breakers has on me, and let’s be together.
Love,
BN