An Open Letter to Tim Tebow

They say opposites attract, so it’s no wonder a sailor-mouthed Planned Parenthood donor like me fell for the charitable, kind golden boy of the NFL. I’ve been stalking your…career ever since you were a baby Gator. I knew we were destined for something because you’re from Florida, and my favorite place in the world happens to be in Florida. Doesn’t matter if Disney World is no where near your hometown or college- fate is fate. I knew Baby Jesus blessed our love when he sent you from a team who worshipped and adored you in Denver to the most challenging and polarizing sports market in the country. He sent you to take a job on the most detested team in football only to be closer to me- that’s love.

Even then, Clifton to Florham Park wasn’t close enough. Our fate as a future Us Magazine cover couple was sealed when my place of employment established a new office directly behind the Jets training facility. I immediately envisioned our future: lunches at Panera Bread, laughing about how much Mark Sanchez sucks over baked potato soup and chocolate chip cookies; post-work brownie sundaes at Friendly’s in Morristown, where I would convince you that women should be in control of their own bodies. I’d visit you at camp and heckle the shit out of Revis, and you’d laugh and shrug- That’s My Kristen! I’d even bake my famous Kahlua Brownies for Rex “Foot Fetish” Ryan. That’s how much I care about you, Tim. You’re the only person I would set foot on Jets ground for.

I know what you’re going to say- what will the fans think? What’ll they say when I start a relationship with someone whose values are the complete opposite of my own? I’m sure they’ll understand when you tell them that our relationship (like most of my past relationships) is based solely on physical attraction and hopefully incredible sex. Sure, your image might take a tiny hit, but isn’t true lust worth it? I know you stand to risk a lot: your poster child for Christianity status, the love and adoration of your family, friends, and fans, and your entire life’s worth and meaning. But I’m risking just as much as you. People could mistake me for being a Jets fan. I mean, Jesus Christ.

So Tim. Timmy. Can I call you Timmy? Not, like, South Park Timmy. Although that would be fun to say in the bedroom. TIMMAH! After all, since I’m a Giants fan the Jets are essentially the Lords of the Underworld- have you ever seen that episode of South Park? It’s great. Maybe we can watch it after our Friendly’s date, if you’re allowed to watch South Park. I wouldn’t want to get you in more trouble. I don’t mind taking heat from the press about my choice in movies, television shows, or my support of gay marriage. I would do anything for love. Except root for the Jets to win. Ever. I won’t do that.

Sincerely,

the love/scourge of your life.