An order of FLF with a side of Clay Pubes Please.....

Dear Heidi Klum, Michael Kors, Nina Garcia and the other random Project Runway idiot judge,

First, let me just say, I LOVE me some Project Runway. BUT this week, I wanted to smash all your botoxed faces in a hot steaming pile of dogshit. BUT even then, I don't think it could possibly stink as much as your judging this past week. How oh HOW can YOU throw out my cute and talented little Allison and keep that basket hat makin', pinata' dress sewin', Parkinson's havin' (sorry Mr. Fox), no talent, tweak show Vincent? His model could barely walk in that paper mache' massacre that he called a dress THEN he had the nerve to say that the "crinkling" of his kindergarten art project "turned him on?!?!?" This guy NEEDS to get laid AND he should have been the one to be kicked out of the show. Shit, even the other designers were pissed, Laura foamed at the mouth and turned into Joan Crawfored/Mommy Dearest on him after the judging. I was anxiously waiting for her to beat his ass with a wire hanger. So, NEWS FLASH PR JUDGES!! If you didn't already know, Vincent SUCKS. Please spare us from his future textile abortions and kick him OUT! I can make a better dress than THIS guy, which is not saying much since I think staples are an appropriate tool to hem pants.

I demand a recount and I demand that Heidi be required to say DESIGNERS instead of DEE-ZYN-ERS every fucking episode. What is this like this 4th season or whatever? Stop humping your Seal and learn to say the damn word.

(Heidi, bitch, you know I'm kidding, I love your accent baby.)

Love,
Me.


Dear Reader,

I'm watching "Ghost" right now and I felt the need to write to you because my mood can currently be described as DISTURBED and PERPLEXED. I'm disturbed because they're at that part where Patrick Swayze takes over Whoopi's body to dance with Demi. I KNOW, its SUPPOSE to be "romantic" because you know.. the dead guy touches his wife for one last time.. and it's their final dance, yakity schmakity, BUT.. (and this is a big huge J-Lo type of BUT,) it's WHOOPI'S hand that Demi is rubbing lovingly on her face, it's WHOOPI that she's dancing with and it's WHOOPI's chest she's laying her head "oh so lovingly" on. With almost ANY other person, this COULD have been romantic and somewhat hot at the thought that Demi was really dancing and loving it up with a woman. HOWEVER, when that person happens to be Whoopi Goldberg...well that's about as hot as seeing your grandparents having sex...with toys...and Benwa balls...(dry heave).
Thank God they didn't end up kissing because I think that would have traumatized me for life.
Seriously. Am I the only cold hearted biatch that did not see the "romance" in that scene at all? In fact, come to think of it, I didn't see the romance in the pottery making scene either. All I could think of was what kind of cleaner they were going to use to clean all that pottery crap they smeared all over their apartment. I also wondered what happened when he touched her hotbox with all that clay still on his hand. If she's shaved like a new born baby, I guess it wouldn't pose much of a problem but damn, if she even had a five o'clock shadow or missed a day of shaving, BAM!


Clay covered pubes.


Love,
The Cold hearted bitch.


Dear Jennifer,

Oh you poor poor baby. Why would anyone outright lie about you being engaged to Pig Vaugn? Why oh why would they do that? I'm sending over sympathy roses to all your five, multi-million dollar homes right now you poor abused little star you. Can you believe how everyone is SO interested in your love affair with Fatty McDoublechins!?

No?

Yeah, me neither.

So please call your publicist RIGHT NOW and give him a raise for keeping your name "in circulation." Please stop bitching about how your engagement news is on the CNN ticker and be thankful that "Rachel Green" still makes headlines. Think about ME for once will you? My weekly dose of trash and glossy goodness was ruined as US Magazine decided it would be a good idea to put you and chubbles on the front cover. I think I fell into a short coma reading about Vince's romantic propo....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz....
...

.(*goes into REM*)
.
.
. Huh?..

OH!

Anyways, enjoy the attention and I'll be seeing you on the 15th season of Surreal Life. I do recommend that you marry Vaugn though. It IS good publicity and lets face it, its only a matter of minutes before that bitch chokes on a chicken bone, so you'll be back in the dating pool in no time!

Love, Me.



Dear Chann-somethingorother,

So hey, um I really like that new movie you're in.
Its like a dancing movie right? Yeah. It looks so good.

SO. GOOD.

REALLY. REALLY. GOOD.

No seriously, that's like Playgir..I mean Oscar Award winning stuff you got there with that movie. mmm hmm.

So um...are you pretty much shirtless throughout the movie? I mean all that dancing can get hot right?

What?

Oh yeah, that's just drool.
Don't mind me.

Love, Me.


Dear Billy Ray Cyrus,

I appreciate your effort in trying to not be the guy with the curly mullet. However...

you're the guy with the curly mullet.

The vision of you prancing around in jeans tight enough to see your future children and your crimped country mullet swaying in the breeze, is an image that you can't even HOPE to replace with this...cheap imitation of Keith Urban and KD Lang look thing you got going on.. (and really, you want to IMITATE both of those bitches?) This revamping of a new image bears a striking resemblance of one MC Hammer. Remember "Gangsta Hammer" which emerged right after Parachute Tin Foil Pants MCHammer?? Remember that? Tragic. But hey, the guy had a billion dollar mansion made of gold and chocolate sitting atop the hills of Compton, so I appreciated his effort as well. Or how about Vanilla Ice turning into Rasta Ice? Complete with dreadlocks? Do we recall that regrettable phase? Please don't kid yourself into thinking you're not going to have to slip "Achy Breaky Heart" during your concerts, because you are. In fact, half your audience will go to your concert just to hear that one song and the other half will finally realize who you are after that song and go, "OH! That's that guy with the curly mullet!"

The public rarely embraces a change in ones image; but we do embrace the chance to see you embarass yourself with other has-beens on national television. So, just save yourself the time and effort, follow Ms. Aniston over to the VH1 offices and sign up for Surreal Life. And grow that mullet back!! Good taste and country music never go hand in hand anyway, so what are you so worried about? Embrace the mullet.

Love the mullet.

BE THE MULLET.



Love,
Me.


Damn...I'm writing to Billy Ray about his mullet. Has FLF reached an all time low or what? And truly I'm sorry to all my male readers for the blatant man candy that I post up for absolutely no reason. I'm really sorry, but not really sorry enough to stop...

HAVE A GREAT WEEKEND EVERYONE!!!!