Ordinarily I am just an avid reader of D-listed.com Occasionally I will compete in a "caption this contest," though that is a rare occurrence indeed. But I feel the need to say a few things directly to the celebrity community.
Dear Gwen Stefani: Take that red lipstick, walk over to the nearest garbage receptacle. Now you have a choice; you can either drop that lipstick in the trash can or you can have it forcibly inserted into your butt. Either way, we don't want to see it anymore. The look is tired.
Dear Paris Hilton: Go away. Um... NOW.
Dear Jared Leto: I don't think your band is anything special. I also don't think that your life of privilege and sleazing around with every 20-something starlet in Hollywood gives you any kind of reason to be all angst-ridden, angry, or sad. Just because you were the pretty boy on "My So-Called Life" doesn't mean you still have some kind of street cred in the angst-y world anymore... The people who are oh-so-very-full-of-angst now don't remember "My So-Called Life." Sorry to burst your bubble. Oh, and just so we're clear, half the reason I maintain this blog is just to piss you off.
Dear Britney Spears: First off, fix that polyester hair you've got attached to your scalp. Put on some underwear. And don't EVER leave the house without them on EVER again. Since I've got you on the line, you know how you once had hopes of a comeback? Yeah, wave goodbye to them. They are circling the drain. Please save everyone the time, effort, and suspense, and just go ahead and move to a Louisiana trailer park now. Thanks.
Dear Nicole Richie: Eat something. (Actually that's for all of the Hollywood women.)
Dear Fergie: I didn't like you before you went solo, and I like you even less now. And for fuck's sake, if you're going to use the spelling of a word as part of a song, at least take a cue from Gwen and spell it right. Tasty DOES NOT have an "E" in it. Period.
Dear Lindsay Lohan: Your test results came back. You have herpes. This news shouldn't be a big shocker, though I will say that the case you've got is quite the scorcher.
Dear David Hasselhoff: You're much more popular in Germany. Please move there and spare the rest of us.
Dear Keanu Reeves: Rent some IQ points... You don't have to commit to buying them, just try a month to month plan.
Dear Madonna: You were born in Detroit. Own it.
Dear Tom Cruise: You've toned it down lately, but you don't have me fooled.
That's all for now... All those celebs who escaped my wrath this time, you're lucky. You are all pretty much borderline loonies.