FLF: What The French? Toast!?

Dear Janet,

I don’t think the mere term “Junk in the Trunk” can adequately describe your backside, because I’m pretty sure your ass has its own gravitational pull. Don’t get me wrong Janet, I’m not making fun of you, because that ass is mythical in size and should be knighted, registered a historical landmark or given its own zip code, SOMETHING to acknowledge the greatness of your ass. It defies gravity for heaven’s sake! The next time I see you, I’m going to bust out my BeDazzler, cover your ass in ruby rhinestones and make it my place of worship......and maybe the place I go to get some shade …and maybe as a table to place cold beverages on...
A multi functional ass like that cannot merely be called “Junk in The Trunk,” that’s more like a “a bloated dead body in the trunk” or “Costco sized box of melons in the trunk.” Or “I have the largest hemmorroid known to man …in my trunk.”
Okay, wait. That last one didn’t quite have the same ring to it as the others, but you know what I mean ass queen!
And while your ass is untouchable (yet can be seen from space), you might want to go back on your diet so you can grace the covers of US Magazine (again), regale us with your dramatic weight loss story and how you achieved your dream body by lipo exercising and Photoshop eating right.

Love,
Me.

Dear Jermaine,

I just wanted to let you know that extra large shirts, tank tops (pulled DOWN), moo moos, camping tents, potato sacks, girdles, the husky section at Target, cars, buildings, people you can hide behind and control top panties ARE YOUR FRIENDS.
Give them a call and take them out to brunch or something. They miss you and I personally miss the days when I didn’t know what your Crisco ball looked like.....pressed up against Janet Jackson’s....or maybe even resting on top of Janet Jackson’s....

I need to stop.
The dry heaves are making it oh so very hard to type.

Love, Me.


Dear Coreys,

The Gods must have been thinking of me when they defied all logic and reason and brought you two back together again! Let’s go back and recall what made you guys so great shall we?

Corey Feldman can imitate Michael Jackson so perfectly, that you don’t know when the Michael ends and the Cory begins! Oh and Michael Jackson showed him some porn when he was a teenager blah blah blah, big surprise there. Oh and let's not forget the cinematic genius that was The Goonies! He was in the Goonies! All Hail Corey Feldman!

Corey Haim: One word: LUCAS.
Two Words: Lost Boys.
Three Words: License To Drive.
Four Words: Drug addict by age 15.
(15 is a number so yeah, technically that’s FOUR words. Don’t question me.)

The Coreys is just what reality television needs! Who needs more pretty faces on television? Give me hard core, broken capillaries, premature aging, rotting teeth, alcoholic bloat, acne ridden, “recovering addict,” dire need of attention, has-been meth faced movie stars ANYDAY! I mean, if Fergie and Paula Abdul can do it....who are we to deny the Coreys their one last failed attempt at stardom??

Welcome back tweaks! I’m tivo-ing this shit!

Love, Me.


Dear Scott,

You’re like 4 foot tall, you have a bit part and act alongside celebrity Adonis’s like George Clooney and Brad Pitt in Oceans Eleven, (Thirteen? Fifteen? Who knows? They’re all just soft porn to me..YOw.) and every time I see you, I can’t help but think, “that boy needs a good shower.”
But somehow, despite your small stature, your B-list status, and your slightly sweaty appearance....

I kind of like you.

In a way that makes me feel dirty and perverted. The kind of like, that makes me want to take a scalding hot shower and rock myself in the corner of the tub immediately after thinking about you in a sexual manner. I really shouldn’t be embarrassed because you’re good looking and hey, bravo on the abs! but I can't help but think that if your dad wasn’t James Caan, you would have ended up being the guy that flashes his fuzzy flesh balloons at old ladies on the bus.

Well, just so you know, you can flash your flesh balloons at me anytime.....just don’t tell anyone I said that..and don't look directly at me in public.

Love, Me.


Have a great weekend everyone!
And points to the person who can tell me what commercial I stole the title of my blog from. Here's another hint to help you out: "Who you calling a cootie queen you lint licker!"
Hee. It's only the funniest commerical out there.
(Please note that these alleged "points" have no monetary value but they do make you feel kind of funny inside.)