|
 Dear Homosexuals, Sodomites & Other Ungodly Deviants,
My mailbag is bursting with letters and, once again, many
are from superstar celebrities! It’s nice to know
that despite their glamorous lifestyles and six-figure
paychecks, they have horribly hideous problems just like
all of you out there. I hope that in some small way, their
pain and confusion can bring you, the boring and unfamous
masses, a little amusement and comfort...
Dear Little Miss
Know-It-All,
I’m a former supermodel who now hosts my own daytime
TV talk show and prime-time reality series. I have recently
packed on about 30 pounds, no doubt from sitting around eating
cheap Oriental noodles—they’re like eight packages
for a dollar! Your struggles with weight are legendary. I
was just wondering if you could give me some wonderful words
of wisdom regarding this sensitive subject.
Signed,
America’s Next Top Ramen
Dear Top Ramen,
I’m not sure exactly what you’re referring to,
but I have never struggled with my weight. I still weigh
what I did in high school—a healthy yet fashionable
87 lbs. You may be referring to the fact that I often wear
a fat suit out in public as a way of investigating the world’s
cruel reaction to obese people such as yourself. I am fascinated
with fatties and porkers and am curious as to what it’s
like to be one. Thankfully, at the end of the day, I can
simply unzip that professional fat suit and lounge around
in next to nothing, my size-zero clothes hanging off my lean,
disturbingly sinewy body. Then I snack on celery and carrots
while watching your show, making fun of your huge ass and
thighs the entire time. You want my advice? I say, keep your
chin up—both of them—and maybe try to get an
endorsement deal for Knudsen cottage cheese. Seriously, you
need to lose weight like Oprah or Star Jones or Jennifer
Hudson. Remember, people only want to watch a big, fat, black
woman when she’s being portrayed by trim black men
such as Eddie Murphy, Martin Lawrence or Tyler Perry!
Dear
Little Miss Know-It-All,
I am one of four annoying shrews who host a PMS-fueled morning
talk show. I recently made fun of a well-known blond bombshell,
going so far as to mock her drug-induced speech patterns,
and a few hours later she was found dead in a Florida hotel
room. Now everyone hates me. Help!
Signed,
Not Feeling So Rosie
Dear Not Feeling,
How could you possibly know that this tragic creature was
going to exit this world mere moments after you made fun
of her for your own enjoyment? The world does not hate
you because of this, trust me. The world hates you because
you are a humorless militant tank of a woman who feels
the need to comment on everything and everyone. My suggestion?
Shut the fuck up. Oh, but on the off chance you do have
some strange power to make the people you talk about drop
dead, could you please do a really mean-spirited impression
of George W. Bush tomorrow? Thanks!
Dear Readers,
If for any reason, these letters from the fucked-up 'n' famous
didn't put a much-needed smile on your spray-tanned gay
faces, please feel free to come to my weekly show:
Here’s
Jackie!
Mondays at 10:30 p.m.
here lounge
696 N. Robertson Blvd., WeHo
Special guests, special themes,
tons of booze and lots of really big cocks! illustration by www.glenhanson.com
|
