Dear Nikolaj Coster-Waldau,
You were in my dream last night. I can’t explain why you were in a Santa suit and I’m sorry about making your leg go to sleep but we had a good time didn’t we? I know you don’t do that with all your Facebook friends.
Especially as you only have 64. Thanks for accepting my friend request. I was surprised you did but I’m guessing you are new to it. That just makes you even nicer.
And I love it when you pop your armour on.
But as your 64th friend can I suggest something?
No track pants. You’re better than fleece.
Dear Nikolaj, I see you have 235 Facebook friends now and they have names like Inge and Rosella and Maryam and Ameila and Elodie and they’ve been liking all your photos. Well I’ve been liking them too but you’ve not once sent me a smiley face. Not even the hand clapping. I’d even take the stinky poop emoji from you.
Are you ignoring me Nikolaj?
My great grandmother was from Denmark so we are practically cousins and she wouldn’t like you shunning me Nikolaj. Not one bit.
Nikolaj. What happened? You de-friended me and now you have 2567 followers and 55,000 fans on another Facebook page. I bet that Rosella turned out to be a social media wiz didn’t she? She’s turned you against all the rest of us. Just like your evil twin sister in Game of Thrones.
Never trust a woman whose name starts with R. Don’t you know that? Rebekah. Roxanne. Rapunzel – you’ll end up with thorns in your eyes!
Well, Rosella doesn’t know everything. Why does she have a picture of you eating an apple on your Facebook page?
That is not hunky. That’s just crunchy.
What next – you eating muesli from a bowl balanced on your chest while doing yoga?
Nikolaj the King Slayer wouldn’t do that. No. He would shoot an apple on top of a young maiden’s head with his bow and arrow and one arm and then toss the bruised fruit aside and ravish the girl.
And her name wouldn’t be Rosella. More near the front of the alphabet.
More like Angel. A. Yes that’s it.
Angel for short.
If you hadn’t de-friended me I would advise you with gems like this all the time. I would tell you that you should post more pictures of you on your bike. We don’t mind that you’re not actually riding that bike, it’s more like you’re wearing the bike. But with your hair like that you can ride anything. A donkey. A chair on wheels. A four poster bed.
But no fruit.
Rosella knows nothing.
I’ve popped myself in this picture so you can imagine somebody called Angel on your horse whispering sweet advice in your nicely groomed ears. I know you would listen.
But don’t show Rosella.
Because you know, the eyes.
You must look after your eyes.
You’ll be needing them when you’re holding my head and we’re having an eyes wide open kind of time. You know that time. I’m sure you’ve imagined it too. Maybe not exactly with me, but only because you haven’t met me yet.
Well, aside from in the dreams.
But first, you need to friend me again.
Love, the original 64th.
OK just one more.
Clappy hands smiley poop face.
PS. You have my permission to publish the photo too, free of charge, because unlike Rosella I’m not using you to get something.
PPS. My husband agrees with me about the apple. Now get back on your horse.
You kind of do funny, creepy and fiery all together here like a curry paste or something. I like it! And the last photo is pretty awesome in its badness.
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Thank you, I like that as a genre: creepy curry paste. If you need any Bad Internet Art then you know where to come.