Jamie Lee Curtis
Will You Go To The Prom With Me? by
Dear Jamie, What can I say about prom? Well, not much because I didn’t go to mine. I wasn’t formally educated, but instead I let life be my teacher and took my studies on the road. While I educated myself by day, I wrestled by night and ventured off into the sunset towards a distant land that lay yonder south called Mexico. It was there that I wrestled nightly as El Espuhguetis, a masked marvel from the maple syrup soaked streets of Canada. After the referee would raise my muscledefined arm in victory, I’d head to the locker room,
Photos by Matt Maxwell
cut a promo and sit in the moonlight, staring out the window and wondering just what could have been. OK, OK, most of that was exaggerated just to impress you, but I legitimately didn’t go to my prom—I went home and watched horror flicks like Prom Night instead. Halfway through the film and two burritos later, I realized I was at the prom and you were my date that night. Nine years have since passed and I’ve finally built up the courage to say what’s been on my mind this entire time: I think you’re rad and I dig your style. Will you go to the prom with me?
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