I would like to take this opportunity to formally propose to you, Rachael Ray - the love-able, hug-able, super fucking hot TV cooking lady. I know that nobody really saw this one coming...but I feel it's time I settle down with a super fucking hot TV cooking lady like yourself.

I've been masturbating to this box of Sociables for way too long...without a commitment. This has to end! I must confess my love for you now, before someone else does!

Wait?? Are you already married? God, I hope not! If so...I feel really bad about all the dirty thoughts I've had. I mean, think of the messy food sex! "Hey Rachael...want to fuck over in that studio-sized pile of guacamole?"

Well either way...you should devote your life and food preparation skills to me! We will be forever happy in our beautiful house made of crackers and hot sex. You can teach me your "Entertaining Recipes" and in turn I will teach you how to fail at life. It will be a wonderful and symbiotic relationship.

Please don't look down on me for using the Internet as a tool to profess my love...I just needed the world to know what you and you're oily crackers mean to me! Seriously...do they fry these things? It feels like the Exxon Valdez happened inside my bag?? Alas, never mind my cracker issues...let's simply focus on your hotness!

Rachael, you are my sun, my moon, my pork chop, and my cupcakes. You make every day smell like a freshly cut cherry pie. I hope you know you mean the world to me...and that I dream of you every time I eat.

So if you want to marry me, or date me, or just fly around the country to have food-sex with me...umm e-mail me or something.

Good night my sweet cheesecake!

P.S. - People, I'm not on drugs...I'm just bored. As a matter of fact, I'm not even drinking. I'm just naturally this fucked up!