Monday, January 29, 2007

Open letter to the celebrity culture (take 3)

You know how this operates by now... Let's jump right in, shall we?

Dear Angelina Jolie: Sorry to hear about your mom. That's a real bummer. It does not however get you off the hook. We get that you're all about your little UN delegate family and all. We see what you're doing. And in addition to adopting all the destitute wee children of the world you gave birth... And you know what? I am going to flat out call you a bad mother. Someone should call social services on your ass a la Britney Spears. Yeah you might not be driving with your kid in your lap, or dropping them and causing concussions, but let's face facts here, YOU MADE A PUBLIC STATEMENT SAYING THAT YOU DON'T LOVE YOUR NATURAL CHILD AS MUCH AS YOUR OTHER KIDS BECAUSE SHE DIDN'T HAVE TO STRUGGLE. THAT'S DESPICABLE. Poor little Shiloh's struggle will come when she realizes A) That she's named for a famous fictional dog, and B) That her mother doesn't love her as much as the other kids. You know what? Every kid struggles. Trying to get what you need without any means of directly indicating a necessity... That's a struggle. And your other kids? They're cute and all, but I'm betting that you got them while they were still young enough that by the time they are all grown up they don't remember all those struggles that made you love them so much more. I think I've made my point.

Dear Brad Pitt: We get it. You have a big square jaw. Congrats. And you left your wife because something "better" came along. That's nothing new. In fact it's predicatble and played out... however, the way you denied anything was going on when you and Angie were "working" together and then let it all play out the way it did publicly, and then so rapidly boarding the Jolie train straight to hell was COLD. For real.

Dear Sharon Stone: Bitch you are nine kinds of crazy. I wouldn't even know where to begin.

Dear Joe Francis: You're a TOTAL and complete sleazeball... Yep. That about covers it.

Dear Clay Aiken: You're gay. You know it. I know it. We all know it. Even the penguins in Antarctica know it. Just come out already so that the middle American white trash and soccer moms will shut the hell up about you being straight... We know you can sing. At least then you'd have a career on Broadway, because Broadway is full of queens that can sing!

Dear Ken Paves: First off, your last name is pronounced the same way it is pronounced when construction workers put new asphalt on a road... Say it with me now, "PAYYYYVES." Good! Now stop with that whole double syllabic pronunciation. And since I've got you stopping the senseless things you do, please stop producing yellow polyester hair. I mean you want people to have good looking hair when you're a hair stylist, right? Well what makes you think that adding yellow plastic will make anyone look better? I mean look at Britney Spears! Do you think that mess looks good? And while we're talking about hair don'ts, what about that mop on your head? Crimeny.

To anyone and everyone who calls themselves an actor: We get that you all like to congratulate yourselves CONSTANTLY. If I have to hear how it's an honor just to be nominated one more time I'm gonna choke a bitch. Seriously. I'm beyond congratulating you until one of you cures cancer, or AIDS, or ends world hunger... Oh, and if it's Oprah, Bono, or Angelina who somehow manages to do any of those, I might be glad on a global scale that you did it, but I STILL won't congratulate you.

Dear Jude Law: One word of advice - Keep it in your pants.

Dear Kanye West: I'm tired of you celebrating you... You don't deserve to win every award. Not every song you put out is the best song ever written. In fact, I don't think any of your songs are all that great. And here's a tip, I'm not alone. Oh and P.S. - You look more than a little bit like a chipmunk.

Dear Renee Zellweger: I've had it with the squinty thing. Open your damn eyes or I will come out there and staple your eyelids to your forehead.

Dear Police Force of England (Scotland Yard): This is just a quick and handy tip from me to you - If you see Pete Doherty out and about, he's probably high on something. And he's most likely got a hefty stash on him. And if you see someone slumped over in a car, it's probably George Michael. He's had too much, and he's probably got a stash on him as well. Either way, you need to start arresting both of those two on sight, and NOT releasing them on any kinds of terms, because clearly whatever your policy is now, it ain't working!

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