Dear Robin,

How are you? I’ve noticed you’ve been having a hard time lately, and I just wanted to reassure you that you’ve been doing a great job. Please ignore the fact that I’ve been calling you a cootie on my twitter feed for years now; I’ve only in recent months really gotten to know you, and I’ve seen the treasure you truly are. I’m just now noticing that the look you used to rock isn’t “greaseball” at all, but more of an “everyman” aesthetic that says, “You may not know me, but I’ve been admiring you from behind my AIM screenname for some time now…” I’ve misjudged you Robin, and I’m not afraid to admit that.

And you’re not a cootie, Robin, you’re really not. A lot of people gave you a hard time for Blurred Lines because it was “misogynist” or “rapey,” but what I think they failed to see is the chivalry in it all. You’ve absolved a woman of her need to appear dignified and assertive, and assured her you know what she needs, without her even opening her mouth. You’ve put her nerves to rest with that shit you got from Jamaica and shushed her into a calm and serene stupor so she can truly enjoy the mindblowing sex she was so hesitant about. You’re a certified gentleman.

I especially love the way you take every musical opportunity to remind the world you have a large penis. It’s important for everyone to know that phallically, your body can compete with your ego. Women like to be told exactly what they’re getting so that they don’t have to make up their minds on their own. They love when guys do things like announce outright that they have a large member. I mean what’s the point of having a big dick when you can’t scream it to the world for them to admire? It’s like telling a girl you do a lot of volunteer work on the first date. They love that. I hope you’ve taken an opportunity with your new album to remind your wife that you can tear her ass in two. It’s what women value most in a relationship.

And your new music video is just beautiful. What a heartfelt apology! (I can tell it’s heartfelt because it’s in black and white.) I always say: the most sincere apologies afford monetary gain to the guilty party. Also, I’m positively swooning at your ability to intuit exactly what a woman wants in a hugely publicized apology album, and that’s highlighting her disinterest in hearing your tortured pleas for forgiveness (I can tell you’re tortured because your face is inexplicably bloody.) Nothing makes a woman realize she’s been unreasonable like displaying her disgust with you for the world to judge. You’ve done the legwork, now all you have to do is sit back and let the legions of girls who long for your hand on their asses to shame your wife into reconsidering. I am confident you will be successful.

If your pure and pious efforts to rekindle your wife’s love for you doesn’t work; if after all this, she is still operating under the delusion that she’s so stunningly beautiful and talented and successful that she doesn’t actually need you, don’t lose hope. You’re adorable. You literally look like one of those smushy dogs that some people think look like a ballsack, but others find really cute. There are throngs of women who are looking for someone just like you. Someone who promises he has a big dick, who can sing about sexual escapades with the falsetto of a prepubescent choir boy, and who is not afraid to air all of her dirty laundry in album form, so that she has a clear, inarguable idea of what her companionship is worth monetarily. Paula shmaula.

And when times get tough, just remember: a club beat and a solid hook covers all manner of sins.

With awe and appreciation,