Dear The Producers of Shrek The Musical,
We know what you're up to. It's the same thing the film franchise was up to. It's called "going back to the well". I hope when you go back to the well, someone's poisoned it. Poisoned it with a poison that doesn't kill you, but gives you massive amounts of diarrhea. GREEN diarrhea. Only after you've shat tons of green diarrhea, and you've been surrounded by green fecal matter, will you realize that what your body just produced is what's being produced when you make a Shrek movie or a Shrek musical. Shrek off!
Hugs and kisses,
P.S. "Macbeth". It's just a name, so don't piss your pants and run backwards through the theater twenty times when someone says it in a theater.
P.P.S. My opening night message to you..."Good luck"
Dear "New York", Spencer Pratt/Heidi Montag, and all other "reality" celebrities;
It has come to my attention that none of you actually exist in reality. You are all mere figments of the imaginations of TV networks, and the moment they find another shiny object to obsess over, I'll never see any of you again. Hell, I hardly see any of you now, and I'm a pop culture whore. Still, one can be picky, even when junk food is involved. I'm going to lead the American people in a chant of "We don't believe in you", as we click our feet and close our eyes. When we open them, you will all return to your original form, which would be that of a gerbil, and we're going to ship you to Richard Gere's house. (Those rumors of putting a gerbil in his hindquarters are false, I assure you. The rumors of him having a giant anaconda that could eat a fuckton of gerbils though, are more believable.)
Get out of my/our pop culture,
P.S. New York...you're a whore. You're a manish looking, uncouth, unfit for release upon society, whore. May you be shanked by the viking helmet of Flava Flav, for he actually had the sense to dump your already used looking ass to the curb.
Dear Tori Spelling,
You were singled out from the rest of the rejects because apparently, everyone says you should treat the retarded ones extra special. (Before anyone thinks I'm picking on the mentally handicapped, I assure you: I have separated the term "retarded" from "mentally handicapped". Mentally handicapped is the medical condition, retarded is slang and a word meaning to stifle development of.) When dealing with a truly mentally handicapped person, they can't help their condition. And you know what, they all have actual personalities, and they're MUCH nicer than yours. You, on the other hand, lost out on lots of daddy's money, are whoring it up on reality TV, and no one really gives a shit about you, or your baby, or your toolbox of a husband.
Stop being a 9021-zero, and go back to obscurity from whence you came,
Dear Christina Aguleria, Nicole Richie, Jennifer Lopez and any other celebrity who obsesses over how much press their baby's pictures gain them;
No one cares about you or your ugly assed babies. Get over it, and stop whoring your newborns out for money and fame. They're already going to have a fucked up enough time growing up with parents like you. Grow the fuck up. The reason people look at pictures of, say, Jennifer Garner and her adorable little girl, is because people LIKE Jennifer Garner. Plus, her little girl truly is adorable. Point being, stop selling your kids pictures, and start taking care of them...before they become the next Lindsay Lohan or River Phoenix.
Again, grow the fuck up,
Dear John McCain,
Why don't you go slather on some Ben Gay like the old git you are, you cu...well, you know the rest.
That's all, you're not worth much more,
There we go. I feel a little better, for now. For those anticipating the Buyer's Guide, Part III; it's in draft format. I just have to put some finishing touchs on it and it'll be published.