[image courtesy ingaslefthand]
Dear Hugh Laurie,
I know you're not actually Dr. Gregory House. So please do not worry that this is another meaningless piece of fan mail. I love you, Hugh. I love the actual you.
I looked you up on the internet and found out that you are 'happily married'... with kids. I have never been more crushed. I don't understand that though, because when I watch you every Monday night (and then again and again on the internet), I can just tell you are looking into my soul. You're acting, I know - but some things you just can't hide. We're meant to be together.
I don't want to break up a happy home, but I must point out - if you were so happy with your wife, would you really allow such feelings to exist? Because you can't pretend it's just me...
I love that you look like a monkey and I love that you're grouchy and have a limp. I'll take care of your cane, I promise.
PS - I heard you on the radio once and you were pretending to have an English accent. Please stop; it doesn't become you - or us.