Boners For Tom Hardy: A Love Letter

Dear Tom Hardy,

Hey, it’s me!

I guess you haven’t been getting any of the letters or photographs or locks of hair I’ve been sending you. I’m not even going to ask about the two turtle doves I sent. And I’m guessing you “didn’t see” the message I hired that skywriter to emblazon in the sky. Okay, yes, maybe “TOM HARDY, CAN I SEE YOUR PENIS???” wasn’t an appropriate thing to put in the sky, but you know what? All’s fair in love and war.

Look at you, sitting in that chair. Look at me, trying to sit in your lap.

Remember that scene in Mean Girls when Regina George is all like “She said she took one of your used tissues and is going to do some weird African voodoo with it to make you like her.” I know Mean Girls was just a movie, but in love you can’t take any chances. So if you find you’re missing a used tissue (I don’t know, some people keep inventory on that kind of stuff *cough Ben Affleck cough*) just know that I have it. Don’t worry, some weird person isn’t stalking you and isn’t hiding in the dumpster outside the hotel you’re staying at while you’re in town for the New York premiere of The Dark Knight Rises and isn’t going through the dozens of pounds of trash and isn’t finding the stuff from your room and definitely isn’t smelling the tissues and trying some weird African voodoo on them. Someone is DEFINITELY not doing that! Phew, right? LOL.

Hey Tom, can I have the dirty water you shaved your beard into? I promise I won’t bathe in it. No, really, I swear I won’t. On my mother’s grave. She’s not dead, but I’ll kill her if that’s what it takes. Okay, fine, I won’t bathe in the beard water. (I’m totally going to bathe in the beard water.)

Look, I know you have a girlfriend. Okay, fiancé, fine, whatever. It’s not important. She’s not important. Don’t worry about trying to find an easy way to let her down, either. Do you have any idea how easy it is to make a car crash look like an accident? Just saying.

I also think I should explain myself a little. Yes, I sent Anne Hathaway threatening letters. And no, I didn’t do it because she rapped on Conan that one time (which was my excuse to the police ONLY because I want to keep our love a secret to protect you) That would be insane. I did it because she got too close to you! And you know how I hate it when other women get too close to you! I hate it more than Hitler! Omg, just thought about Hitler making out with you and now I can’t stop crying and ripping out chunks of my own hair!

Okay, I’ve calmed down now. I just watched a YouTube tribute of you set to Seal’s Kiss From A Rose. You know how that calms me down (and how it’s the only song I can have on while making love.)

Remember when you asked me (through your attorney in the Cease and Desist letter I received, which was a hilarious prank, by the way!) if I had ever seen Fatal Attraction? Of course I have! And I’m super flattered you think I’m as hot as Glenn Close or that we could have a love as beautiful as hers and Michael Douglas’ in that powerful film.

Hug me, until I pass out.

Before I forget, can you tell your security guard to let me into the building? Every day, I try to get up to your apartment and every day he does this thing where he calls the cops and I have to run away before they get there because “Ma’am if we see you here one more time, you will go to jail. Mr. Hardy has no relationship with you and you need to rid yourself of this crazy delusi- hey, put down his t-shirt! Put that down! Stop her, before she gets away! Again!” and that’s all I heard before I sped outta there! And you know what, Tom? I’m sleeping in that t-shirt right now. So don’t ever question my dedication to his love we have.

You got a fast car. But is it fast enough so we can fly away? We gotta make a decision
We leave tonight or live and die this way.

Okay, I better call it a night. I’m seeing The Dark Knight Rises for the 47th time since Friday. I have to go to the theater in the next town over because I was banned from all the cinemas here. Seems like they should write ‘no public masturbation’ somewhere on the tickets if they don’t want people publicly masturbating in theater! Anyways, I’m just going to cuddle up with this Tom Hardy body pillow. I’ve glued those locks of your hair I bought off eBay onto the pillow’s forehead to give it a more lifelike smell.

I’m going to try and get into your apartment again tomorrow. I traded sexual favours for the building’s blueprints so I should be able to get in through the air vents, so fingers crossed, tomorrow might be the day we finally consummate this love.


your one and only love,

your Juliet,

your oxygen,

your everything.

I love you, Tom.

And don’t you every forget that. Or there will be consequences!!!!!!!!! (jk! Actually, I’m not! lol no but really, you better acknowledge me. I know where you live jk)

P.S- I’m watching you sleep. On that camera I installed above your bed. There’s one in your bathroom too.

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