Bathos Over Barstool

My Dearest,

I trust this letter finds you in the midst of yet another glamorous soiree or perhaps a charity gala, your radiant beauty outshining even the most dazzling of chandeliers. I pen this missive not out of any particular need or desire, but rather out of a sense of longing that has been gnawing at me in your prolonged absence.

Your departure has left a void in my life, a void that no amount of business deals or tech innovations can fill. The house, once filled with your laughter and the intoxicating scent of your perfume, now echoes with a silence that is as deafening as it is unbearable.

In your absence, I find myself drifting, seeking solace in the most unlikely of places. And it is with a heavy heart and a sense of self-loathing that I must confess to you: I have developed a rather disturbing habit. I have, in my desperation for distraction, found myself reading Barstool Sports.

Yes, my love, you read that correctly. I, Viktor Recel, a man of discernment, a man who values intelligence and competence, have been reduced to consuming the mind-numbing drivel that is Barstool Sports. It is a testament to my loneliness, a monument to my desperation.

I am well aware that this confession will cause you to think less of me. After all, you married a man of intellect, a man who prides himself on his knowledge and understanding of the world. And yet, here I am, allowing the abscess of idiocy that is Barstool Sports to burrow through my brain.

But fear not, my love, for I am not yet lost. I am, after all, a man of means and resources. I have connections in high places, access to technologies that most people can only dream of. And so, I find myself contemplating the unthinkable: a digital detox, a purge of the mindless content that has taken hold of my brain.

I implore you, my love, to understand my predicament. I am a man adrift, a man longing for the anchor that is your presence. I am a man who, in his desperation for distraction, has allowed himself to be seduced by the siren song of mindless entertainment.

In conclusion, my love, I ask for your understanding, your forgiveness. I promise to expunge this abscess of idiocy, to return to the man you fell in love with. And I eagerly await your return, for it is your presence, your love, that truly makes me the man I am.

With all the love I can muster,

Viktor Recel