My last edition of this was met with such approval that I've decided to renew my attack on those Hollywood Ho-bags and unleash the dogs of war with a renewed fervor. So here it is, it's time for round 2!
Dear Producers of CSI Miami: David Caruso can't act. I've seen better acting from a plank of wood. I don't know what kind of delusion led you to think that he could handle this job, (seriously, what evidence in his "body of work" led you to this conclusion, because I just don't see it,) but you were wrong. Very very VERY wrong.
Dear Tom Hanks: Ordinarily I like you a great deal. But here's the thing. You need to get yourself a good haircut. You are no longer shooting the DaVinci Code. There is no excuse, and this is not working for you or anyone else for that matter. (Oh, and P.S. - Try not to get bombed before making any speeches at award shows in the future. Yeah, it's great fun for the rest of us, but another couple of drunken ramblings like that and you're going to be Danny DeVito. And I think we can all agree that's no good.
Dear Donald Trump: I know you like your hair just as much as Mr. Hanks... The rest of the world disagrees. And let's look at the odds on this one, are the other 6 billion people on earth wrong, or are you? Like I said, let's go with the odds on this one. Oh, and your feud with Rosie... We don't care. We know you and Rosie both like listening to the sounds of your own voices, but both of you need to just move on.
Dear Rachel Zoe: Michael K is right. You are a straight-up Chupacabra. That's all there is to it.
Dear OJ Simpson: You're a murdering bastard. Nobody in their right mind believes your tale of woe and innocence. And that sick idea for a book really removed any and all doubt for the few delusionals you had left. You don't have any shot at even a sliver of redemption, but paying what you owe to the families of your victims is as close as you're going to get. Do it and then disappear forever.
Dear Oprah: You are a BILLIONAIRE. (Yeah, billionaire with a B.) You could definitely have afforded to have given the Lizzle a job. You didn't. I'm putting you on notice!
Dear Bill O'Reilly: You're a douche bag.
Dear Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert: Keep up the good work.
Dear Nicole Kidman: First off, PUT THE HAIR BLEACH DOWN. Your hair is currently as white as Estelle Getty's. And no matter what anyone else tells you, that's not a good thing. (My bet is that someone in your favorite salon is working on VERY high commission for all hair bleach used, thus why they are pushing it on you with such fervor.) I remember way back when you were a redhead. Those were the days. Oh, and another thing... I know how you've carefully cultivated this image of being Australian and all, but let's be real here. You were born in Hawaii. By definition that makes you American. And I'm pretty sure the baby-stealing variety of dingos are not the same variety that specialize in super-long-distance swimming.
Dear Natalie Portman: By all accounts everyone I've ever heard speak of you loves you. I don't know what compelled you to align yourself with those horrendous Star Wars movies, but I guess we all have our little missteps. I'll give you a mulligan on those.
Dear Joe Simpson: You're creepy. Your relationship with your daughters greatly oversteps weird and gross, and to be honest it borders on obscene, just kind of an FYI.
Dear Matt Knowles: You're about 2.3 seconds away from being Joe Simpson.
Dear Paula Abdul: It is blatantly obvious to everyone but you that you have some sort of substance abuse problem. The first step on the road to recovery is admitting that you do in fact have a problem. I have a pool going on when you issue a statement claiming "exhaustion." (If you could make the announcement a week from Tuesday, that would be great.)
Dear Olsen Twins: I can't tell you apart, nor am I interested in doing so. Both of you could use a GIANT hamburger, lord knows you can afford it. And speaking of things you can afford, you don't have to shop in the bag lady section of the thrift store anymore. Just a little tip from me to you.
That's all for now... don't make me tell you again!
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