Dear 2012 a.k.a. the End of the World (and all that sh*t),
Dear 2012,
So I’ve been hearing about you A LOT lately, with some big words like “Armageddon,” “doomsday,” and “Cusack” being tossed around on your behalf. But I have to say, 12/21/12, colour me less than impressed.
True, you’ve had sexy-hot Adam Lambert write a song about you, and “filmmaker” extraordinaire Roland Emmerich has also made a big-shot studio flick about your antics. Heck, you even have that TV hungry dickhead from Colorado – Richard Keene – believing in this bullshit! But in the end, it’s just simple posturing on your part, my pseudo-apocalyptic friend.
What, is the entire planet supposed to poop-its-collective-pants in fear just because The Mayans predicted “The End” in 2012? Those Terra Cotta junkies couldn’t even foresee a major bleeping drought or Cor-fucking-tez!!!
So your official website and lame-ass twitter page notwithstanding; unless President Obama pulls off his face to reveal he’s actually Dick Cheney right before December 21st, 2012, I ain’t swallowing what it is you’re offering. So stick that in your hieroglyphic and smoke it…
Yours in hype,
.
Y 2 K
Better Step Back, “Balloon Boy”!
Um, Heene Family?
Who the hell do you people think you are? How dare you manipulate the “legitimate” news media for your family’s personal gain! It’s outrageous and insulting to good, decent journalists (like TMZ) everywhere, as well as terribly exploitative of your own sickly-sweet, picture-perfect children. Do you know how stupid Wolf Blitzer looked interviewing your entire television-ready family after your half-assed re-interpretation of James and the Giant Peach?! It was both embarrassing and shameless (though nicely staged).
Look, Missus Heene, I get what it’s like to be married to a nutjob-douchbag (I really do), but just because hubby Richard is “weather-obsessed,” that doesn’t mean he’s actually a weatherman or meteorologist. He’s nothing more than a kooked-up science version of The Great Santini…minus the Marine Corp crew-cut.
Take my advice and lose the gimmicks and phony emotions, and just be grateful that you have three painfully photogenic little boys with catchy names like “Falcon”. In the end, family is what it’s all about.
With Deep Sincerity,
.
Kate from “Jon & Kate, Plus (our ever-less-relevant) 8”
~Post Script: Please keep the hell away from TLC!!
Um, NASA? Are You F*cking Kidding Us?!
Dear NASA,
Are you guys bat-shit insane!?!
You space-nerds slammed a B-version of the Millennium Falcon into the moon at 6,000 miles an hour, just so we can maybe find out if there’s water, or ice, or fucking Fresca beneath the surface? Are you guys bat-shit insane?
Seriously, NASA, you’re embarrassing us. And by “us” we mean the human race. Sure, we’re already guilty of war, genocide, Michelle Bachmann, and a movie called Hot Tub Time Machine, but for God’s sake – this takes the fucking cake! Are you wannabe Trekkies bat-shit insane?
What if the moon gets hurt? You know it affects our planet’s tides, right? If Lake Tahoe suddenly has 40-foot swells, that shit’s on you! Or what if the moon slowly splits into a hundred pieces, and a huge chunk hurtles towards us and takes out Oklahoma? Actually, that we can live with… But what if the moon isn’t even a moon at all, and suddenly old English dudes and metallic guys who sound like James Earl Jones shoot back at our little planet? This is serious, you goofy pin-heads!
Is there any way you won’t pull this stunt again if we help get you guys laid? We’ll even throw in 6-months free of the SyFy Channel.
And what about the cost? You’ve jettisoned nearly 80 million tax dollars so you kooks can re-enact deleted scenes from the Austin Powers movies. Are you all bat-shit insane?
Really, NASA, this is crazy. And we don’t mean tea-bagger protests or Shepard Smith crazy; we mean Big-Time-End-Of-The-World-Crazy!!
Cut this shit out, right now!
Hysterically Yours,
.
Neil Armstrong AND John Glenn
Dear Minnesota VIKING Brett Favre,
Dear Brett Favre,
It is now official. We Hate You.
Seriously,
.
Wisconsin
Sieg Heil, Heidi Klum…
To My Dearest Sister Heidi,
Now that ANTM Cycle 3.14 has wrapped, I’ve had a few moments to catch up on Project Runway. I really, really appreciate the stunning conceptual designs and all, but as for you and your judgmental ways, Klum, they are one big, hot, messed-up mess, girlfriend!!!
Listen, Heidi, I totally get that you landed the hostess part for your looks, and not for your wisdom or ability to pronounce words that begin with R. But let’s get real, you and your fellow judges are down-right nasty to those poor designers! You and that old lesbian Michael Kors laugh wickedly at the contestants even as you critique them so harshly.
Those clothing designers are fragile souls, and still you choose to shatter their fragility even more with your producer-approved snarkiness. Do you even get how hard it is to sketch and sew a black-leather sweater-vest? Or how difficult it is to make something from Macy’s look good? I didn’t think so. I mean, look at you. Only thing you know how to make is a littler nose. Oh, snap!
I would wecommend you focus on how to pronounce Project Wunway, as well as how to treat your designers with more care and grace. Don’t you watch the parts of your show with Tim Gunn?
Anyways, I stand here before you, asking you to consider showing the kind of compassion we put on display at the CW. I believe we, as uber-super-models, have the really unique ability to improve lives and spread knowledge to those less fortunate than ourselves. When we share our experiences, Heidi, then we share our love.
See you at fashion week, gorgeous. ; )
Hugs & Bulimia,
.
~ Tyra
Could Everyone Please Stop Pissing Me Off? 