Oh Ry-Ry. I've loved you since you were just that cute flirty 24 year old, hosting "Ryan for the Ride Home" on 98.7 Star FM, balancing out Jamie and Danny's special blend of morning time crazy, and making me fall in love with you one Goo Goo Doll track at a time. But if Craigslist missed connections are to be believed, your heart will never truly be mine.
In a Craigslist male-for-male missed connections post entitled "But You Look So Compassionate on TV" (original title seems to be "The Man With The Child In His Eyes"), a male stranger waxes poetic about his love of a famous unnamed celebrity, that's poorly masked as Ryan Seacrest. Given the fleeting nature of Craigslist, the post in its entirety is below:
I knew you were the magical messenger from another dimension back when you used to host that game show "Click." Your documents may say that you are from Georgia, but we know that you spent part of the year on Mt. Olympus. Your winged horse's name was Caliope, and I knew you loved men long before you began to host that hugely popular talent show on American TV. You smiled at me as I gift-wrapped your E. M. Forester book and whispered, "People like you don't need to read literature, all you have to do is smile and doors open to you magically."
We would meet for coffee and biscotti at the abandoned Italian cafe on La Brea. You told me about your friendship with Karen Black, Diane Keaton and Joan Collins, and we would laugh at the sad, hollow materialism of this town. But I wondered why you wanted to move to a bigger mansion. Why did you whiten your teeth and put so many golden highlights in your hair? I didn't mind that you were even shorter than Tom Cruise. I was just sad that you had never seen a Fellini movie. You said "Cinema Paradiso" will have to do, so I bought the soundtrack record for you, and you played it with your long eyelashes, because you didn't have a record player in your mansion.
As the deals got bigger and your star more radiant, you started to skip our afternoon coffees. "Talk to my assistant about getting you in my book," you would say.You had bigger parties to go to with that crazy 80s pop star who was high on medication and that rude British man with the too-tight black V-necks and the arrogant air about him. I realized that you and I were never meant to be together, but that was OK. I could see watch you on Wednesday and Thursday nights and imagine how you were seducing all the handsome male contestants on the show.
The last letter you sent me told me to leave you alone. That you had to fall in love with some blonde beard and go boating in the Riviera with your jet-setting friends. I should have known better. The heart is a cruel trickster who leads you to unfortunate towns with sinister villains. But I know that on your next trip to our world, you will come back as more humble man, a man who will be happy listening to the songs of the blue-winged leafbird as she waits for the sun. You will hide in your empire, you will wear a mask for the public and lead a sad, tortured life, but in the end, you may look back at some of our happy moments and smile at a yellowing photo of two happy lovers, who wanted nothing more than to spend their youth together.
Odds are high that while this does clear up a lot of questions about Seacrest's devotion to his unnaturally sun-kissed highlights, this post is likely a hoax (though no less beautiful for it). I guess we finally know what Brian Dunkleman is doing with his spare time.
Here's the post, screencapped: