Dear Jon: They say my sights are set too high. They say I’m too neurotic; too disagreeable to ever engage a partner in a common purpose: the purpose of making out. But in this year - at this defining moment in history - I challenge you to do what the “professionals” say you shouldn't do: Come to Minneapolis and make out with me. We are one people, Jon, and the time for making out has come.
(“The rigors of this campaign have prevented any sort of serious relationship,” he told the New York Times. But hey, Jon? Just so you know, I’ll most likely still be single in November.)