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A letter to Lindsay and Britney


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Dear Lindsay and Britney,

Once upon a time, you were both cute and adorable. Then, although this seems a little difficult to believe now, you were both smokin’ hot. (Which, by the way, ruled.) But lately, it’s become hard to believe that you’re the same people. Drugs, partying, shaved heads, beer guts, wigs, multiple hair colors, the list goes on.

Heck, you’ve both even had your junk photographed in public. Is it really that hard to keep your kibbles and bits covered up? I’ve had my picture taken in public thousands of times in my 38 years, and in not one single photo was my Good Charlotte hanging out. And I’m kind of a careless slob.

But whatever. I’m not here to focus on that.

Now, I’m sure you’ve had no shortage of people giving you advice in recent months, and you certainly don’t need any additional advice from some anonymous Midwestern blowhard-nerd. But after having watched one public humiliation after another, I can hold my tongue no longer.

Please. I’m begging you. Please, please, please, for the love of God, whatever you do, don’t ever stop. Because, I have to admit, this whole thing you guys have going on is completely wicked and awesome.

I loved the part where you freaked out and did that thing

I mean, seriously, you simply can’t make this stuff up. If I wrote a movie script in which the superstar singer shows up at a hair salon in the middle of the night and shaves her own head, I’d never be able to sell it.

Britney, if that were the only bizarre thing you ever did, it would still be enough to entertain me for years. But, oh no, just like you once strung together hit after hit on the music charts, these days you’re stringing together strange acts like you’re auditioning to be Marilyn Manson’s next girlfriend.

My personal favorite of late is your habit of lip-synching your way through 15-minute mini-performances. I’m guessing the months of drinking and partying have left you sounding like a weakened Abe Vigoda when you sing, so it’s understandable.

The lip-synching itself isn’t the best part, though. The best part is the way the audio track began skipping in the middle of your most recent performance. You’re Britney Freakin Spears! Nobody in your camp has heard of digital music?

I’m fairly sure my iPod has skipped exactly zero times in the four years I’ve had it. Does nobody in the music industry remember Milli Vanilli? How hard is it to figure this out? If it will help, I’m happy to bring my iPod to your next performance. Sorry, we might have to unplug your record player in order to use it.

I also saw on your most recent web posting that you said you “hit rock bottom†when you went to “a very humbling place called rehab.†Well, first of all, I’m pretty sure you haven’t hit rock bottom yet. You’re too much of a player to have already hit rock bottom.

Sure, what you’ve done so far would have killed most mere mortals and probably several species of elephant, but you, you’re special. You’re capable of going so much deeper. Don’t give up, Brit. Don’t ever give up.

It’s not a competition, ladies…but it should be

Actually, if you need a source of inspiration, all you have to do is grab a copy of this week’s People Magazine and take a look at that cover shot of your celebrity soul mate, Lindsay. In case you haven’t seen it, it features the now-infamous photo of “Linds†passed out in the front seat of a friend’s car beneath the headline “What Happened To Lindsay Lohan?â€

You see, Lindsay, she’s pulling out all the stops and taking it to the next level. In the span of just a few days, she crashed her car, got arrested for DUI, was videotaped fleeing the scene of an accident, partied her brains out to the point where she “posed†for that shot on the cover of People, then finally checked herself into rehab (again), thusly almost losing her latest movie role in the process.

For most people, that’s enough personal disaster to fill a lifetime. For Lindsay, that’s just one single week. Now Britney, I think you came close to that level of mayhem during the head-shaving week, but I don’t know, I think Lindsay might have one-upped you.

So come on, Britney, I know you have it in you to really make us all really sit up, take notice, and marvel at your train wreck of a personal life. And please, whatever you do, stay the hell away from rehab. That goes for you, too, Lindsay. If you two straightened out your lives, what would there be for us to read about in People or watch on E?

We’d be stuck with a bunch of lame Mischa Barton and Nicole Richie stories.

I guess they’re OK and all, but let’s face it, Mischa and Nicole are a poor substitute. All they are is kinda skinny and gross. Big whoop.

In the interest of full disclosure, Britney and Lindsay, I suppose I should also admit that I have an admittedly selfish reason for wanting you two to keep it up. As much as I love the entertainment value of your crash-and-burn personalities, I also love the fact that you’re making excellent role models for the three little girls growing up in my house these days.

You see, once my girls are old enough to see the carnage of your lives without having nightmares afterward, I’ll be able to point to the pictures of the head-shavings or the accident-fleeings or the drug-snortings and say, “You see? If you get mixed up in drugs and hard partying, this is going to be you.â€

If that doesn’t scare them straight, nothing will.

So please, whatever you do, Lindsay and Britney, don’t stop being you.



Bob Rybarczyk (brybarczyk@sbcglobal.net) writes stuff. He is too fond of cheese sauce for his own good.

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This is my favourite part.

I also saw on your most recent web posting that you said you “hit rock bottom†when you went to “a very humbling place called rehab.†Well, first of all, I’m pretty sure you haven’t hit rock bottom yet. You’re too much of a player to have already hit rock bottom.
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Anyone want to invest $100 US into the screenplay I've just started?

it's a mockumentary-style story of a celeb parytgirl 'contest' to see who can hit the lowest depths of depravity with 3-4 main characters in the running. I'm thinkin a Four Rooms-esque approach to framing the stories would work nicely with maybe Steve Buschemi being the axis around which the stories revolve.

tentative working title: "Beef Curtain Call or The Simplex Life"

Terms to be worked out

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