And yet you know that I'll always go to bat for you. (You and auntie Oracene, who, gosh, just can't stop pocket dialing me.) Like you, my lady, I'm a lover, not a fighter. At least when fuzzy yellow balls and silly chair umpires aren't involved. Seriously!
Will say I feel like your fans should understand me better: Yes, I'm Serbian. No, I don't get the majority of slang terms that Americans use. And, well, yes, that means I don't understand half of what comes off your tongue, ReRe. But I still love you. It's so fun globe trotting with you and getting up to all sorts of antics. We'll always have this. And remember this?
Well, I could go on writing sweet everythings to you, but I'll just stop here. You know my love for you is vital. Now, my gift to you this holiday season—it's a UOI! Instead of IOU, you get to carry my racquet bags through the Australian hard court swing. I mean, you're already doing a great job. "Pics or it didn't happen," as the Twitter kids say. So I snapped one!
Don't you worry. When I say "Australian swing," it's okay. You know I really just mean Melbourne. Ha, ha! I mean, remember Cincy? It was so us to bail on the event and then ride a roller coaster across the road before we jetted off to the Kardashian wedding, just a few hours shorter than the Kardashian marriage. This is how we roll, world!
Toodles,
Sascha
—Jonathan Scott (@jonscott9)
