Dear Rabid Pro-“Life” Peeps,
Dear Rabid Pro-Lifers,
Seems like there’s been an onslaught of “pro-life” legislation sweeping through America lately, not to mention even more folks turning to violence in the name of protecting “precious life.” And as a result of all this hardcore aggression, we’ve become confused.
Now we’re young and, as a result, a bit naive about such volatile subjects as abortion, but what the heck gives? Some of you more “passionate” types are really intent on making sure every pregnant woman gives birth, regardless of what may be best for the mom in question – with the belief being that every single life is truly sacred.
Yet we’ve been told by Our Father that in spite of the rah-rah / borderline psychotic support you show for those first few trimesters, you then seem to have no problem with lives in their 66th trimesters being sent off to war, or you appear apathetic about lives in their 139th trimesters starving because they lost their jobs due to other people using banks and Ponzi-schemes to rob them blind. You also seem less-than-concerned with the abuse that gray-haired lives in their 243rd trimesters often face by their so-called care-givers.
All we can deduce from this absolute lack of consistency on your part is that it really is all in the timing. So, given this hard fact of life, we’ve decided to finally speak up and demand that you “pro”-life fellas actually become pro-life for the vast, vast majority of our entire lives. Seems like it’s the fair and reasonable thing to do, don’t you think?
Okay, that’s enough for now. Thanks for greens, the vitamins, and the skipping of wine when offered. And by all means keep pumping in the classical music – we love that shit!
See ya soon,
Fetuses
To Those Who Think the Idea of Dead Asians is Funny,
Dear Gilbert Gottfried (annoyingly unfunny comedian); Cappie Pondexter (illiterate WNBA player); Dan Turner (bigoted Haley Barbour posse member); Alexandra Wallace (stripper-looking UCLA student); and 50 Cent (nancy-pants rapper),
We just wanted to chime in and thank you for your high-larious jokes and crazy-ass tweets, as well as your web-cam lectures on why the Japanese are so totally lame and fun to belittle – especially while the country of Japan is going through an unholy trifecta of earthquakes, tsunamis, and nuclear meltdowns.
You five “personalities” are spot-on with your cruel jabs and insensitive comments; it’s exactly what all of us who are not suffering needed right now.
Normally, we try to keep our inappropriate comments to lighter stuff like assassinations, the Holocaust, gang-violence, illegal sex-trades, and slavery, but you funny-bunnies showing such a humorous moral disconnect to the catastrophic events in Japan is truly top-tier entertainment.
Nice work,
Compassion, Empathy, and Sensitivity
To Those Actively Destroying the Middle Class,
Dear Corporate Elitists and Their Conservative Errand Boys,
We see that the wealthy in America are getting wealthier, and the poorer are having some new friends move into their dilapidated neighborhoods: some folks known as the Middle Class.
Congratulations on widening that chasm between those who have and those who have not.
Whatever could possibly go wrong …?
Putos,
Mexico y Russia
Emergency MEMO to the Academy Awards:
MEMO
Attn: Oscar Telecast Producers, Directors, and Writers
So we’ve had some time to really digest what we watched, er, endured this past Sunday night, and we have no choice but to ask: are you all that high or simply that clueless?!
Forget all the theatrics and faux dramas and dresses. Instead, it may prove more interesting and memorable to simply focus on The Movies.
Remember The Movies? Raging Bull? King Kong? The Sound of Music? One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest? On the Waterfront? Jaws? It Happened One Night? Ben-Hur? Any of these classics ringing a bell? Well, they should, because they’re a big part of the reason people still go to the movies.
Movies are meant to be fun, intense, upsetting, hilarious, silly, intelligent, and quite a few other descriptions that fall within the human emotional range.
What they are not meant to be is banal and forgettable. Yet that’s what much of the last several Academy Award ceremonies have been. Banal and forgettable. Kinda like the President’s State of the Union address, C-PAC, or pretty-much anything Jay Leno says.
Here are a few ideas for you to mull over between now and the next Oscar telecast. Just in case you’d actually like to remain a bit more relevant than the Blockbuster Movie Awards.
1). Shorten the show. There’s no excuse that each telecast nearly outlasts most Viagra-popping men’s erections.
2). Fire Bruce Vilanch. Yes, he’s funny looking, but so is Henry Waxman. Yet you’re not rushing out year after year for his supposed jokes or snappy banter.
3). Stop trying to be hip. No one gives a shit about the latest gadgets, apps, or how auto-tuning makes Harry Potter and Cloris Leachman sound. You’re an awards show for movies on ABC – the same network that tried to push Cop Rock into people’s living rooms.
4). Keep it down to one host, and make sure that he or she is funny and more about the ceremony than himself or herself (Think Billy Crystal or Tina Fey). And don’t allow them to get higher than Hunter S. Thompson backstage before the program.
5). Only play off winners who read from a prepared list of agents, publicists, and assistants. We wanna see people cry with joy, stutter with shock, and soil themselves in disbelief. If we wanted to listen to some boor read off a long-ass list of non-famous names, we’d tune into C-Span.
6). Finally, allow for some surprises. Streakers, Michael Moore, and the occasional rejection of his or her award are actually good for the show. It reminds us that even in the world of make-believe, honest, unseen surprises can still occur. Kinda like when Marisa Tomei won for Best Supporting Actress.
Remember, folks. It’s about the movies. Let’s try to get back to that before this annual awards-fest winds up going straight to video…
Unimpressed and uninspired,
.
Ghosts of Bob Hope & Johnny Carson
Could Everyone Please Stop Pissing Me Off? 