North Star Writers Group

First of all, you can call me Governor Schwarzenegger. The general citizenry may have become accustomed to addressing you by your first name, but it is hard to blame them for feeling as though they know you on an intimate level. I may not have any Oscars to my name, but at least I never showed up on the set drunk and naked. When you become Queen of your own state, I’ll be sure to call you Governor Hilton.

I’m sorry, where was I? Something just stirred me into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. Ah yes, Governor Hilton. That kills me. Just try not to giggle like a sixth grader when you hear the other kings and queens throw around the word filibuster. It’s not what you think it means.

Concerning your letter: Actually, I believe your plea was issued through your myspace blog entry – can I just say that, in all my years as King of California, I’ve never needed to visit a myspace page in order to read a plea? I’m not even sure how to respond.

I’m afraid the following anecdote will shed a less than flattering light on my age, but because of the seriousness of my point, I’m willing to take that risk.

When I was just a boy, the reigning Mr. Universe was Tommy Kono. He was carved out of Gibraltar, with biceps like watermelons. I can remember thinking to myself, if only he would give me some advice, I could be just like him. Do you know what I did? I got out a pen and paper (look them up, Paris), and wrote down some questions I wanted to ask him. Now you’re probably thinking, “Did you think this Kono guy was omniscient? How could he possibly know what you wrote?” Truth be told, I did worship him, but I never believed him to be omniscient. What I did was, I put my message in an envelope (look it up, Paris), stamped it and sent it to his home address. This sort of thing is considered polite.

Believe it or not, Tommy Kono responded with a letter of his own (which happened to be littered with information about an up-and-coming drug called steroids). And that’s when I realized something. People like receiving letters.

The point is that you could have at least sent me an email. For future reference, when you’re asking someone for a favor of any kind, be it a pardon or even a cup of sugar, a pretty good rule of thumb is to avoid prefacing it with, “Check out my myspace page.”

I was shocked to discover that the content of your message was almost as unique as the format. I never thought I’d be able to say this about you again, but you are full of surprises. Unfortunately, you have no legal legs to stand on. For that matter, you barely have physical legs to stand on. For God’s sake, eat something. And as such, I will address only your pragmatic appeal on behalf of the rest of us who purportedly live such mundane lives.

The American people need your “beauty and excitement,” as you eloquently put it, to spruce up their impossibly boring existence. I’m afraid that what you consider beauty and excitement, the rest of us refer to as porn. But let’s not get caught up in semantics. You are correct in suggesting that, for years, you have contributed more than one person’s share of segments on “Entertainment Tonight”, “Access Hollywood”, and other programs of a similar ilk. If there were no other fodder to keep America’s attention on a nightly basis, you would be correct in suggesting that your daunting sentence of 45 days in the slammer is an injustice. But you are condemned by two words: Lindsay Lohan. She slammed the gavel on your skinny butt, not me.

You thought you lived a simple life before. In a month and a half, you’ll kill for a pair of overalls (no pun intended). If nothing else, it ought to teach you not to drink and drive.

For what it’s worth, I’ve put a lot of time and energy into the California prison system, and guests who didn’t emerge from the womb wearing Gucci Sunglasses and Tiffany Bracelets tend to find the accommodations quite pleasant.

Although you have yet to contact me directly, perhaps my writing of this friendly note has caused me to feel a bit of a connection between the two of us. Therefore, I hereby grant you the right to call me by my first name.

Sincerely,

His Royal Highness,

Arnold

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