Be My Valentine, Janet Napolitano

We could eat spaghetti and discuss fortifying the nation's borders. I'd giggle nervously at the sight of your sturdy posture and resolute facial expressions. We could make a real night of it.
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You're a little old for me, Secretary of Homeland Security Elect, but boy are you tough. According to Wikipedia, you're "an avid basketball fan who regularly plays tennis." That's so cute! Now, Napolitano, to be honest, we couldn't be more different. I'm not the athletic type, I get sports terms all mixed up, and I haven't worked up an impressive heart rate since the last millennium.

That is, until I saw your photo!!!

How did such a handsome woman manage to stay single for so long? And why is your last name so much fun to say?

But enough fawning, let's be serious for a moment. I love how, as Governor Napolitano of Arizona, you've taken extensive measures to create fiscal responsibility and to end bureaucratic waste. Maybe you could teach my own faltering state Governor, Mr. Arnold Schwarzenegger, a thing or two. For instance, yesterday I had to take a dilapidated public bus full of garbage and pathogenic microbes to stand in a three hour line for an unemployment check. I brought a library book, but two thirds of the pages were missing and the remaining third made references to the Soviet Union. Bet that wouldn't happen on your watch! I sure wish you could ride in on a horse like Prince Charming and save us. Then I'd hop on sidesaddle and we'd gallop off into the smoggy horizon, my hair limp and greasy from unregulated toxic emissions.

But things get even more romantic from there. We could eat spaghetti and discuss fortifying the nation's borders. I'd giggle nervously at the sight of your sturdy posture and resolute facial expressions. We could make a real night of it; I've already invited Maddow, Samantha Ronson, and Condi. Actually, Sam might not follow all the political jargon, but she could sit there chain smoking and looking exhausted. As for you, do me one favor: skip all the makeup and just show up in a swoon-worthy blazer or polo shirt with a rakishly aggressive collar.

Love,
Sascha

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