You know how it's 99% disgusting to throw-up? It stinks, burns, splashes everywhere, makes your eyes water, and cramps up your stomach muscles. BUT, there is the 1%. That far corner of your mind that you don't want to admit is there in the middle of your five alarm fire of hot mess. It is the part that is enjoying the vomiting process. Hopefully, my blog is that 1% .
Thursday, December 3, 2009
An Open Letter to William Bradly Pitt
I realize that you receive countless letters of adoration from an ever growing flock of admirers. I mean you can hardly blame this legion given your body of work, or more to the point your chiseled body of work. But I digress. The purpose of this missive is not an attempt to win your favor sexually. However, if you and I did “get together”, you know just 2 dudes hanging out drinking beer and one thing led to another, say after I slipped you a Mickey, I don’t think anyone would accuse either one of use being gay. We would just do what came naturally when 2 like-minded, charismatic, handsome, experimental men get together: suck cock. We have coincidentally, led parallel lives. You: fit, attractive, acting chops, worldwide fame, 2 drop-dead gorgeous wives, strong sense of fashion and design. Me: thirty plus years of unequalled devotion to customer service at the Shack (Radio). Wow, sorry Brad. I realize I may be coming on strong and have thus far avoided the intent of my letter. I’m afraid you give me ADHD, with emphasis on the H!
I did NOT want to be the one to tell you this but I happen to be a vessel of inside information that demands to be exposed: Your character in The Curious Case of Benjamin Button was plagiarized by F.Scott Fitzgerald. I know this seems preposterous but read on and it will all make sense. Back in 1979, I attended a small community college in northern Los Angeles County and in order make ends meet, I had a part time gig guiding tours of our young campus. During the second semester of my third sophomore year I met Frankie Fitzgerald, a young Midwestern transplant with a penchant for smoking and poker (we became fast friends). But he lacked a certain social awareness and was completely ignorant of popular culture and came across as kind of an asshole. Back in those days being a nerd was nowhere near as cool as it is today and an ass-kicking awaited Frankie on a weekly basis. But boy, that bastard could write! We shared a creative writing course and while his papers came back with stickers of stars and rockets, mine were noted “see me after class.” Out of necessity a deal was struck, I would educate him on pop culture and he would help with my papers. Well, one day after class, we headed back to my 250 square foot apartment to work on both. He pulled out a notebook and I pulled out a joint and flipped on Mork and Mindy. This was the 3rd season of Mork and Mindy mind you, and as I explained to Frankie it already jumped the shark and was completely devoid of the spontaneous energy and cutting edge humor that Robin Williams and to a less extent Pam Dawber brought to the show. This was after all the year of Jonathan Winters. He played the role of their son that was born an old man and unremarkably aged backwards (sound a little familiar Brad?). In our grass induced haze, I passionately expressed my outrage at such a ridiculous premise but Frankie just giggled and took notes. Well fast forward a few decades and the next thing I know Frankie, excuse me Mr. F.Scott Fitzgerald writes this fucking short story that gets turned into The Curious Case of Benjamin Button that really should have been called Mork and Mindy, the 3rd shitty season (no offense, you really kicked ass). I am sorry Brad, I just felt you should know that you were a pawn in that pretentious asshole’s game. And if you ever do want to hook up over cocktails, you know how to reach me!
This letters shares little to nothing with reality or Wikipedia.
Peace and Love,