Suri Unveiled And Ready To Smite A Bitch!!

Dear Suri,

I told them my Queen. I told them you were real and here you are! You exist! I bow to you oh great and ....strangely asiany looking.... Suri. In the week of your unveiling, your presence and force was felt by all of Hollywood.

You smited the once untouchable and always unsanitary Paris Hilton. It boggled the minds of many when this woman got away with saying the "N" word, has co-founded three new strings of Syphilis AND Gonorrhea and yet, P- Diddy still parties with her and she's had boyfriends coming out of every orifice since 1995.

However, when you emerged, a hot plate of smite was served to Ol' Flappy Crotch for driving while stupid........



Upon seeing this miracle, I danced upon my rooftop and praised thine name whilst holding the sacred text. (Vanity Fair)

But that was just a taste of your true Cruisaholmes concentrated powers...with little to no effort,you made Lindsey Lohan lose her mind.

She got fooled by the rocks dat she's got when she realized she had lost the fuckers when someone stole her Hermes bag at the airport. She then CRIED like ...like......well..... she cried like you do when your father keeps bringing home strange men and having you call them uncle.
Making Lindsey Lohan cry smells of a very mischievous and smite happy baby. I mean, really, I watch my DIAPER BAG like a hawk at airports and yet this GLIB bitch loses her Hermes bag with one million dollars worth of jewelry in it? It's not possible! (see how I used your "father's" word there.??. that should bump me up to Voltron 7 on my Scientology rank right? Please tell me I have earned the power to heal premature balding with my bellybutton cheese like you and your father have! It would be an honor indeed. Plus, that's the last powerbadge I need for my Scientology sash)

Only you can whip up fun Hollywood magic like that Queen Suri.

Then...like Santa granting my deepest desires....you're slowly but surely bringing me back my beloved Elvis.

How clever of you to disguise him as her daughter, but I know who sh...I mean HE.... Really IS! Thank you oh powerful one. He's getting more handsome by the minute! I can't wait until the morphization is complete! I think I see an adam's apple forming as I type!! Tell him he's welcome to my house for peanut butter and fried banana sandwiches anytime.


Finally, like the loyal daughter you are, you've taken pity on your father's popularity dip with the masses and took over Mr. Travolta's brain. I have written this man and begged him to stop flashing his boobies in public like a geriatric gone wild and asked why he felt the need to reward his pilot with a friendly game of tonsil hockey, everytime they have a successful landing. But I was blind then.

But now I see....the power of the mighty one!

Because, who can pay attention to your dad and his alleged "fiance" when John is prancing around on Broadway like this?

Well at least we know he didn't have to stuff that bra.

It's all coming together now. Brilliant.

Your power is mighty indeed.
And while you're on a roll, here's my personal smite list:

1. Mooriah Carey

Listen, I have no strong feelings about her one way or the other. She has a great voice and yackity schmackity, but Suri, can you pretty please smite this bitch with an idea, a new stylist and tell her to stop stealing food from Nicole Ritchie? Mooriah is clearly in some type of donut and gravy coma if she thinks this outfit is anywhere near the realm of "flattering."

2. Kevin Federline:

The man who wooed Britney Spears with Cheetohs and root beer and then injected her with his poison in order to continue his legacy of wife beaters, trucker hats and 5'oclock shadows. The man who makes Vanilla Ice look like a musical legend. Please. Smite this bitch if its the last thing you do before naptime Suri. And while you're at it, take a hold of Sean Preston and swing him over to your place too. He tells me he has had his fill of his mom's homemade Tang and Spam.

3. Idiots like this:
PLEASE Smite all the Emos! Especially the guys who swing their bangs with frustration as they cry about not finding jeans in their girlfriend's closet that are tight enough to hug their balls in and create a faux cameltoe.

4. Ryan Seacrest:

For the mere fact that he exists. He needed to smited a long time ago and you're just the gal to do it! (although check with your dad first, I think he and the Seacrest Salami might run with the same crowd)

Thank you Suri, oh great one!
It's an honor to finally be a witness to your greatness.

You had me at "phone home."

I'll see you at the Xenu barbeque today!

Love, Me.

BEHOLD HOLLYWOOD.
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SHE IS COMING.........





Have a great weekend yo!
And don't tell me that after reading this letter you didn't come to appreciate, and perhaps, LOVE, the word SMITE.