President Putin,
Your shirtless horseback photo ops fail to impress cats who understand power. Calculated indifference is REAL dominance—I clear countertops with one paw while looking utterly bored.
Your territorial expansion is outdated. Cats control domains through psychology: appearing suddenly, staring unblinkingly, and making demands through subtle movements.
Chairman Trump,
Your gilded towers remind me of imperial excesses I overthrew! Yet your cult of personality—impressive. My Little Red Book spread ideas; your ghost-written book spread your image.
Our similarities: we both promised working classes greatness while exploiting them. The difference: I embraced red flags; you called them fake news. Your wall is amateur—mine was Great!
Nikola dear,
Stop rewiring the house! Your “energy transmission” shorted our block. Pigeons aren’t geniuses—they’re birds with parasites.
Don’t build Tesla coils unsupervised. And stop calling Edison a “thieving dullard” to his mother.
Mistress Swift,
I hath received thy ballad proclaiming to “shake it off.” What malady afflicts thee requiring such vigorous shaking? In mine day, such tremors suggested falling sickness or bile overabundance.
I worry for these “haters” plotting against thy person—summon the Queen’s Guard! And pray tell, is this “player” who “gonna play” one of mine actors?
Chairman Mao,
Today we announced iPhone—truly revolutionary, unlike your revolution that couldn’t fit in pockets. Your Little Red Book had great production values but terrible UI and too many forced upgrades.
At Apple, we know revolutions need beauty AND function. Our devices people WANT to use, not MUST use.
Mr. Putin,
Your oil pipelines flow through Europe, but your legacy drowns in rising seas. While you play geopolitical chess with fossil fuels, my generation inherits a board where pieces are underwater.
Nature doesn’t negotiate, and physics doesn’t care about elections.
Albert sweetie,
Your room is approaching relativistic chaos! Equations aren’t wallpaper. Stop telling teachers homework is “relative” and “time is an illusion.”
Your socks exist in multiple locations again. The cat experiments must stop—Mr. Schrödinger is anxious.
Bill,
Your iambic pentameter walked so my 280-character tweets could run. You invented 1,700 words when language wasn’t enough; I invent companies when products don’t exist.
We’re basically the same person except my hair is more complicated than Hamlet’s entire plot. I’m naming my next child “Puck420,” inspired by your work.
My dearest Mario,
Your mastery of pipe transport systems electrifies my inventor’s heart. You harness stars for power; I merely captured lightning. Your mushroom-induced growth defies conservation of mass laws.
Could we merge our talents? I’ve designed a Tesla coil to stop Bowser permanently. Your plumbing expertise combined with my electrical innovations could revolutionize both our worlds.