Dearest Gordon Keith,
You impish rogue! Whenever I read your delicious column in the DFW Quick it never fails to elicit enormous gut-tightening guffaws, regardless of how completely disposable the content might be. Absolutely nothing pricks at my funny bone like the benign word couplings that spill from your brilliant skull like so much liquid hilarity.
This is why I love you so, Mr. Keith. As a world renowned bon vivant, yacht racer and hot air balloon enthusiast I am often using my cerebral facilities at maximum capacity. Your column requires no such intellectual stress on my part. Your jocular fashion is both unthreatening and rudimentary, totally void of originality or bite. Where did you ever develop such a well-tuned if ultimately toothless sense of humor? I must know!
Miss Teen USA. Britney Spears. Lindsey Lohan. Is no one safe from your playful yet topical barbs? Were you sent to us mere mortals from the heavens above? Are you a member of a distant alien race who has mastered advanced mirth-making technology far beyond our earthly means? Do tell!
In closing I do attest, you are pure unadulterated merriment distilled in a frosty mug made from moon rocks and filled with Pope ejaculate.
Also, you have pretty hair.