T.I. I love you.

I love your boyish good looks. Your honey-colored skin. The way you think you scare everybody, even though you only weigh 135 pounds. I love your southern accent. Your repeated failure to encunciate. That yellow sweatshirt you have on. Your eyebrows.

With so much love coming from one woman, why do you feel the need to buy machine guns? I know they are an accessory. A part of your lifestyle and persona.

But you are not allowed because you are a convicted felon. Owning a gun means you go to jail. Jail is where they do things to your butt.

I like your butt. And your face. I would like to preserve their integrity.

Perhaps there's a substitute. Something that will feel as badass and be as good for your image as a machine gun, but without the nasty illegal side effects.

A robotic pit bull?



A Bentley outfitted with this 125 lb magnet developed by researchers at Georgia Tech that can wipe all information off a hard drive without even being in the same room? Think about your enemies. Think how much that would fucking suck. Erasing data is the new drive-by.



Maybe you could go old school and just throw poop in Louis Vuitton bags with gold-embossed monograms.



I just want you to think about this a little is all I'm saying. I love you. I'll call you later tonight.

meow meow DRESS meow meow

meow meow EBAY meow meow, meow meow WIN meow meow. meow meow HOPEFUL.

meow.