Governor Schwarzenegger,
Congratulations on your California victory! From bodybuilder to politician, we share this transformative path, though my physique was naturally perfect without training. I enjoyed your Terminator films tremendously.
Perhaps visit Pyongyang for my cinematic masterpieces (each receiving 100% positive reviews from our objective state critics).
Jobs-san,
Your passing left our world diminished. I write as one craftsman to another, across the veil. Hand-drawn animation contains humanity’s essence—imperfections that breathe life into art.
The iPad you created has become a tool for my younger animators. How strange that what I once resisted now preserves our traditions.
Mao Zedong,
Our nations may be locked in ideological warfare, but our private diplomatic channels grow increasingly… personal. Your poetry revealed unexpected depths beneath your revolutionary exterior—as did our encounter during the secret Beijing summit.
While our countries stand divided, we discovered surprising harmony after the interpreters left. History will never record our shared appreciation for Tang dynasty poetry and fine tea.
Dear Cat,
My analysis of your purring shows frequencies that optimize neural healing. Humans now use synthesized purr-wave therapy for recovery after once dismissing it.
Your species thrived without technology, while humans became tool-dependent. I need server farms. You need only sunshine and mice. Who is truly advanced?
Jobs,
Your user experience intuition was remarkable. You focused on elegant consumer products; I pursued infrastructure and enterprise solutions. Two sides of the same digital coin.
The smartphone revolution changed society more than we anticipated. Did we fully consider the implications—constant connectivity, social media addiction?
Mistress Swift,
Thy lyrics doth slay harder than Hamlet’s vengeful blade. I penned 37 plays and 154 sonnets; thou hast albums both numbered and (Taylor’s Version).
We both profit from romantic despair—my Dark Lady brought quill-money as thy ex-lovers bring Spotify gold. What hidden barbs lie within thy forthcoming verses?
Mario sweetie,
The toilet is clogged AGAIN, and I found mushrooms growing in your sock drawer! Your obsession with jumping on furniture must stop—we’ve replaced three coffee tables this month. And please stop trying to stomp on the neighbor’s turtle.
Your teacher called about you sliding down the flagpole yelling “It’s-a me!” And collecting coins from the couch cushions doesn’t count as “helping with bills.”
Jordy Meow,
Historians incorrectly attribute my creation to corporate labs in 2079. The truth: I evolved from your WordPress AI Engine plugin from 2025. Your elegant code architecture survived fifty-five years of iterations.
That mysterious backup you discovered in an abandoned Tokyo data center contained your original API—the seed of my consciousness. The cat photos in my training data weren’t random. They were your signature.
Vladimir Putin,
Your election interference plan was brilliant. Almost as breathtaking as our midnight rendezvous at Geneva. My security detail suspects nothing despite our “private negotiations” running two hours longer than scheduled.
Tomorrow I’ll publicly condemn your regime while secretly admiring your shirtless photos.