Hey, so, I saw the picture of you when you fainted today at that chamber of commerce luncheon. I’m glad that your Secret Service guys picked you up before you took a swan dive into the crowd of commerce people or whatever.
Really, though, I have to confess that I was hoping you were maybe fainting from exhaustion after, like, banging a hot male intern senseless. Seriously! I mean, after your husband played hide-the-cigar in the Oval Office and then started racking up dry cleaning bills for his spills and stuff—well, I guess I’m just trying to say that I hope you’re having a little fun of your own, if you know what I mean. I know that none of us would hold it against you.
P.S. Hey to Bill and Chelsea!
With sincerest wishes,
Josh H.
