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What we typically try to do is limit our letters to billboards with our personal logo underneath. Or maybe sprawled across the fronts of our casinos. It's just more tasteful that way. That being said, let's go over your original letter. The one that you wrote, for real. To parents whose son had just died four days earlier.

I have always respected people who were loyal and faithful -- which brings to mind Kelly Preston.

That's a nice sentiment and a great start. The mother and father are going to be in a lot of pain, so it's important to remind them how strong and respected they are. They're going to need that strength and support in the days -- nay, years -- to come.

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A long time ago, before I was married, I met Kelly Preston at a club and worked like hell to try and pick her up. She was beautiful, personable, and definitely had allure. At the time I had no idea she was married to John Travolta.

Alright, do you see what you did there? Instead of telling Kelly you grieve for the loss of her little boy, you mentioned the time you tried to fuck her. This is what most ethicists would call "unspeakably shameful" and most psychiatrists would call "psychopathic." When us regulars write our condolence letters, we tend to leave out stories about once trying super hard to fuck the mother of the recently departed.