Monday, October 19, 2009

Dear Readers,

While I'd love to spend days upon days writing about how annoying it is that we have granted the Heenes wish of being famous by giving them insane amounts of media attention. ( I especially love how all the tabloid TV programs are calling the family "media whore" um, don't these shows thrive on media whores?)I'm taking the week off while I travel along the west coast with my show Stripped Stories. If you feel so inclined, please spread the word. We're in Seattle October 20, San Francisco October 21, and Los Angeles October 23.

Love Always,

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Dear Driver,

I just got back from my wonderful west coast trip. I have a slight tan, a bag of Coffee Bean coffee, and distant memories of being in homes with more than one room. Upon returning to NYC I was almost hit by your car on the corner of 5th Avenue and 8th Street when you drove through MY walk signal. Little white walker man means I go, you stop. If the signal meant I was suppose to scream in fear of my life and then punch your car, then the little white man would be in said position. (Yea, I punched your car. I'll fight your car. You wanna go car? You wanna go?)

Not only did you almost hit me but you yelled at me. ME! As if I were there one at fault here. I screamed "shut the fuck up you fucking piece of shit" and waved my fists rapidly in the air. (Did I mention I was walking to get dinner after yoga. Yup yoga. You f-ed up my zen. You f-ed up my fucking zen). Then you drove away leaving me to look like the crazy one at the scene of the crime. And so it goes, car is jerk. Car has speed and can leave awkward street fight. Pedestrian is left to receive glares and judgement from bystanders. It's okay, I'm sure your lady friend in the passenger seat will lecture you this evening about what a monster you were to a poor, adorable, girl trying to make her way home. Or she'll bang your relentlessly cause your manly aggression at even innocent city dwellers turns her on. Ewwww, you're both gross.

Love Always,

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Dear Sickness,

Thanks for keeping me in bed and off line for most of this week. No really, thankyou. Sometimes I don't take a true break until my body literally shuts down. That being said, I'm going back to bed to watch talk shows galore today. I'll deal with the douches of the world again on Monday.

Love Always,

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Monday, October 12, 2009

Dear Christopher Columbus,

You were responsible for slaughtering, enslaving and exploiting Native inhabitants when you arrived to America. Let's have a parade!

Love Always,

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Saturday, October 10, 2009

Dear Thursday & Friday,

Sorry this blog ignored you.

Love Always,

Wednesday, October 07, 2009

Dear Rainbow Pinwheel On My Laptop Screen,

I hate you.

Love Always,

Tuesday, October 06, 2009

Dear Skinny Thing With Lots Of Legs That Ran Along My Wall,

Where the fuck did you go?! By the time I got the Raid and broom you disappeared behind something. I fear my hand will find you in a book on my shelf or my bare foot will find you in a shoe in my closet. Gross! Gross! Gross! Ew! Ew! Ew!

Why do you and all your friends think you have the right to just waltz into anyones home and violate their space? I know some people think I shouldn't kill you. That we are technically on "your turf" but last time I checked Mr Critter, your name wasn't on the lease.

At the very least, please don't creep up on me while I sleep. My biggest fear is waking up with you or someone like you resting on my face.

I must go shower and cry now.

Love Always,

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Monday, October 05, 2009

Dear Bag Of Groceries I Left On The Subway,

I am so sorry. I didn't mean to abandon you. Trust me, this hurt me way more than it hurt you.

I blame the idiot teenager obnoxiously singing along to their loud MP3 player. When I first heard the groaning vocals, I assumed it was a crazy old man but once the car cleared it was revealed that this horrid noise was that of a 14 year-old punk in such desperate need of attention that he was wailing nonsensical R&B lyrics. Although his friends warned "Yo, chill. Everyone is looking at you." This just caused the noise polluting culprit to grin and sing louder.

I was so distracted by the rudeness of this heathen that I got off the train only picking up one of my two bags of groceries.

Oh how I miss you bag of fresh produce and healthy snacks! To think, some lucky person out there is having their way with my Lactaid Cottage Cheese.

I wonder if once your all your contents are consumed and you're empty, you too will dance. Dance my bag, dance!

I feel cold.

Love Always,

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Friday, October 02, 2009

Dear Montblanc,

You're celebrating Gandhi's birthday by selling a commemorative pen that cost $24,763. Gandhi advocated a simple lifestyle, so simple in fact he wore a loin cloth non-stop! So attaching his name to a pen that costs the same as one years tuition at a private college makes total sense. And hanging billboards advertising your insanely expensive pen over the slums of Mumbai is a real nice touch. I'm sure when little Anjali and Nikhil are looking out at sky thru their roofless shack of a home they'll see your billboard and rather than use the few rupees they have to purchase a cup of rice, they'll instead save up those rupees to buy your precious pen. Considering 450 million Indians struggle on less than $1.25 a day, they should have enough money to buy the pen in about 52 years or so.

Love Always,

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Thursday, October 01, 2009

Dear Chase Bank,

Thanks for making it seemingly impossible for me to ever be in the positive financially. My charming move of calling you hysterically crying and begging you to reverse my overdraft fees as a "customer courtesy" worked l last week, but I guess this week you caught onto the fact that I am clearly terrible at: balancing my checkbook, saving money, making money, being responsible with money, and now I'm apparently also terrible at being charming. It's okay, I need to learn my lesson, my very embarrassing, expensive lesson. Oddly enough when you were called "WAMU" I didn't make this many mistakes. Maybe the name "WAMU" made me WAnt to MUve my ass to make some money. Know what I mean? It was like:

Now I'm all like "Chasing" my tail. Ya heard?

Okay, gotta go! I'm off to re-read the chapter about money in The Secret again.
Fun fact! I used my debit card to buy The Secret and thus got an overdraft fee. Oh irony, you so crazy!

Love Always,

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Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Dear Chinese Food,

I can't stop thinking about the wonderful time we spent together on Sunday night. You're a great HBO watching companion. And you looked so cute in your little box. Oh that little box! It's a symbol of "good times ahead!" One of my favorite things is when I see people on TV holding you in those little boxes. it gets me all nostalgic.

My only complaint is that even though we spent a few hours together, after you were gone, I longed for more of you. I also felt kinda dirty. So we'll totally hang out again, just not a for a few months, okay? Can't wait!

Love Always,

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Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Dear Lactose Digesting Enzyme,

I wish my body produced you so I could fearlessly enjoy dairy. Instead cheese flirts with my stomach in some sick game of nutrient processing Russian roulette.

Oh you hurt so good, so good.

Love Always,

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Monday, September 28, 2009

Dear Giulia,

Don't get so easily irritated if someone doesn't reply to your email within a few days. Your neediness is making me uncomfortable. Not everyone is like you and feels the need to reply almost immediately to messages because they just can't bare the burden of an unanswered email sitting there, taking up all that infinite space in their inbox. Remember that time you kept emailing that person and got really mad when they didn't respond so you kept emailing only to find out they had a death in the family? Ummmm yeah, you see, not everything is about you! Chill. Please. The whole world is not trying to avoid you. At least, I don't think it is.

Love Always,

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Friday, September 25, 2009

Dear Person Not Using Headphones On The Subway,

Why? Just tell me why? Why are you not wearing headphones, thus forcing everyone on this subway car to listen to your shitty music? First of all the sound quality sucks coming out of your tiny cell phone speaker. Secondly, I hate this song. I don't know what song it is, but if you like it, I hate it. And third of all, you're an asshole.

WOW! Wowee wow wow! You have the technology to play MP3's from your mobile device. OOOOOOOOOH I'm so impressed. You, and everyone else in America. I think even my friends cat Nigel has a cell that plays music. So if you're trying to show off, it's not working. If you're trying to make me feel a violent pang in my heart stronger than most violent pangs I've felt before, then job well done.

If you're so desperate to be noticed, can you do something that's a quieter plea for attention, like tattoo your face?

I think instead of handing out sandwiches to the homeless, I want to start a nonprofit organization where we hand out headphones to you mindless, barbaric, ignorant, no-respect-for-anyones-space savages.

What I don't get, is how only one of you ends up on every subway car and rarely do you see two of you playing your MP3's sans headphones at the same time. It must be a conspiracy. So I plan to be that competitor. Yes, me. A short white gal in a dress is going to sit right next you, take out my IPhone and blast music too. Perhaps I'll blast this song:

Maybe you'll hear the words. Shut off your music. Put down your cellie. Look over at me with tears in your eyes and mouth the words "thank you."

Love Always,

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Thursday, September 24, 2009

Dear Geeky Couple Practicing Drumming at the Coffee Shop,

I don't think a coffee shop is the best place to teach someone how to play drums. And I'm not talking about a little kid with spoons, I'm talking full-fledge adults banging drum sticks on a table.

There is a sign on the wall that reads "please refrain from talking on cell phones in cafe" but none that read "please refrain from drumming so loudly on your table that you shake the floor." So I guess you're free to continue being a totally obnoxious pair of assholes.

And now you're speaking the drum sounds too?! Lord help me if I hear one more "Chak Boom Ba Dom" come out of your mouths...

I'm looking around and no one else in here seems to care that you are so annoying. I can't be the only one. Or am I? Does everyone else here really think this is okay? Am I totally off here? Am I being all "square" cause I'm angry about public displays of drumming and cause not wearing a winter hat on an 83 degree day like most people in this hip NYU area coffee shop?

What was that? Did you just say "Ba Ba Dip Boom Ba Cha Cha?" of course you did. Of course.

Love Always,

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Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Dear Adam Richman,


You have the best job. The best. traveling and eating? Not jsut eating, but eating massive amounts of delicious food? Oh your show is like porn for me.

Let's be friends please. Thanks.

Love Always,

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Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Dear Man Picking Things Off Of Your Dreadlocks,

Can you please wait till you get home to do that mon? I assume I am not the only one on the subway that does not want whatever you are finding and then flicking to land on them.

Love Always,

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Monday, September 21, 2009

Dear People Who Advertise Their Business In The Blog Comments,

Knock it off. I reject your comments anyhoo, so why even bother? You and those people who advertise their events on other peoples MySpace and Facebook walls should all go and write on eachothers assholes.

I know even know what that last line means, but I like it.

Love Always,

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Friday, September 18, 2009

Dear Readers,

My column at now has a name: "Pop Culture Pen Pal!" Every month I'll be writing a new style letter for them that's focused on fashion, culture, and/or budget-living. September is about tiny living spaces, read it by clicking here. Enjoy!

Love Always,

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Thursday, September 17, 2009

Dear Super Creepy Sex Doll,

Okay, I'd like to think I'm pretty open-minded about sex, fetishes, sex toys, etc. But I just read about you on and you scare me! A German company called First Androids created you, a sex doll, that is very close to a real lady. So close in fact that you breath, have a pulse, can perform oral sex acts and you a g-spot that responds to orgasm! What?!

Half the women I know complain they can't find a good guy, but you, a fake woman, can?! And you can cum!? Why are you stealing orgasms from the women of the world in need of an actual, real, fuck?

Then again, I'm not sure a real woman would want to fuck a guy who would fuck a doll, So I take the above statement back, keep those guys. Sadly I think your existence just perpetuates the idea that some men don't want a girlfriend or a wife, but just a vagina. A brainless, lifeless, "won't-talk-back" vagina.

I just vomited up my coffee.

Truth is I think most men do want more than a vagina. So then what kind of guy buys you? I sorta feel bad. I mean, are the men who buy that hopelessly loney? Or is this some sort of sick twisted control thing? A man gets to buy a (fake) womanand do whatever he wants with her. Is this type of thing healthy? (Although, who's to say what's healthy or not when it comes to sex? I mean, I've heard of weirder things than having sex with a doll).

I'm just scared, I mean if people are creating a humanoid to have sex with, what other humanoid creatures can be created and for what reasons.

I never ever want to meet you. Ever.

You do have pretty hair though. That's nice.

Love Always,

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Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Dear Pancreatic Cancer,

You're an asshole.

Dirty Dancing - The funniest videos are a click away

We'll miss you Patrick!

Love Always,

Monday, September 14, 2009

Dear Kayne,

I think I know what happen. You must have gotten some sort of brain injury when your barber was shaving that facinating swizzle wizzle fo' shizzle paisley haircut onto your head.

You're going for that whole "I have a field maze on my head" look right?


So in the middle of getting that cornfield coiffure, the razor cut too close to your skull slicing off the part of your brain that contains self control. I mean, we all have favorites. We all have people we'd like to win things over other people. But you verbally poo pooed all over Taylor Swifts bright star. In the words of Stepahnie Tanner "how rude!" Take it away Steph...

You said on your blog "I feel like Ben Stiller in "Meet the Parents" when he messed up everything and Robert De Niro asked him to leave... That was Taylor's moment and I had no right in any way to take it from her. I am truly sorry."

Alright fine. Perhaps what's more annoying, is that in addition to putting attention on yourself during Taylor Swifts speech, we are continuing to put attention on you for days (probably weeks, months, oh God years) to follow because now everyone is talking about you! Your name is all over Facebook and Twitter. I heard 4 different conversations about you on the NYC subways today. Even Obama called you a 'jackass.' Wow, you even got the president talking shit!

Wait a minute, maybe that's not a corn field maze on your head! It's an alien created crop circle!

Oh God, did aliens steal the part of your brain that contains self control? Hmm, but ET and ALF were nice dudes. I can't imagine they'd do a mean thing like that.

E.T. just wanted Reeses.

And ALF just wanted cats.

Okay so maybe it wasn't aliens.

Alright I'm sick of talking about this already, hopefully soon everyone else will be too.

Don't fret, I still like some of your songs n' stuff. Cause I know you were worried and all.

Love Always,

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Friday, September 11, 2009

Dear Umbrellas,

Why do I even bother with you? Regardless of if I paid $2 or $20 for you, you always break. I hate how I felt today walking thru sideways rain, praying that you will do as promised and protect me, only for you give up. You throw your hands in the air in defeat and fall apart.

Yet I can't let go of you. I see your collegues abandoned in trash cans and street corners all over the city. I should leave you with them to die and go to rain gear heaven (or hell). But no, I keep you, you failure! I keep you in my purse with a bizarre sense of optimism that the next time I open you up you will magically have found the strength to shield me from the harsh introduction to fall weather. Please, don't disappoint me again.

Love Always,

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Thursday, September 10, 2009

Dear Asshole on 7th Ave & 35th St.

I'm wearing a red dress, that is correct. No need to keep hollering "girl you wearing a red dress!" at me. I'm glad you know the hues in the color spectrum, way to go! But your slobbering, spit-filled screaming is not impressive. Guess what? I am now seeing red too.

Ooooh, oh okay you're going to follow me for 2 blocks yelping "GIRL I SAID YOU WEARING A RED DRESS! I LIKE ME SOME RED!" Oh, well in that case let's go back to your mama's basement and make ugly little children together. Is that what you'd like me to do?

Wait, what's that you said? You said "I like them boots. You wanna step on me with those boots?" Step on you? I wouldn't even want the dirty soles of my sweet leather shoes to get within 5 feet of your infested, pathetic excuse for a human, self.

And yet again, I feel like I did something wrong by wearing a hot lil' outift in public. I guess cute dresses paired with beautiful booties beg for harassment. Shame on me for liking style.

I wish I took your photo and posted it on one of my favorite websites, but I was to scared to reach into my bag for my phone, fearful that my leaning over would cause a hint more of cleavage to show and then I'd really be begging for your harassment. Right?

I think you dropped your beeper.

Love Always,

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Wednesday, September 09, 2009

Dear Recession,

Sorry I haven't written in a few days, it was labor day weekend and I needed to take a vacation from not really having a fulltime job.

Seriously enough already. As previously mentioned in my last letter, I just read The Secret and have been following the whole law of attraction/creative visualization stuff as far as money goes, and I'm still broke. Me and the rest of the world. Or so it seemed, until I watched this:

One of my heros Joan Rivers has a new show "How'd You Get So Rich" in which she asks rich people the title question. Apparently some folks are recession proof. (Dammit, why couldn't I have though of the million dollar idea My Breast Friend?!)

But I refuse to loose it. Sure, I just cried when I realized my credit card bill is due today and I can't pay it. I may have stomped my feet and yelled "No fair! No fair!" when I went to the ATM and saw that yet again, I have overdrafted my account. Perhaps it's taken me a couple extra hours (not minutes, hours) to get out of bed lately because lyingin bed is free, and everything outside of the safety of my room seems to suck my wallet dry. BUT, I will not loose it. I am awake, I am showered, I am ready to take on the day (shit! it's almost 2pm?!) I will not be beated by you evil economy. I will not.

Dammit, I shoulda kept all those buy one free McDonalds coupons my mom always tries to give me.

No, no I shouldn't. I may feel a little defeated, but not processed, fatty, fake beef defeated.

Love Always,

Thursday, September 03, 2009

Dear Prosciutto,

(This is a love letter!)
I love you. I love you so much that I was distracted by you and forgot to post yesterday! I was in a fabulous mood. It was one of those days where New York City felt new again! I sat in the park and finished reading "The Secret" (such a good book) while eating a delectable panini made of you and an interesting combo of your friends; goat cheese, spinach, roasted pepper and olive spread with a lovely hazelnut coffee. Why would I bother logging onto the Internet to write a complaint letter when I was having such a blast with you, my salty sinful friend? Sure I could have written a note to the man sitting on the bench to my left yelling at squirrels. Or I could have written a letter to the guy wearing sunglasses at the Black Crowes concert last night who stepped on my foot and didn't say sorry. (Perhaps he would have seen my foot had he not been wearing sunglasses at night. Sorry dude, you ain't no Corey Hart.) Or I could have written to the tiny little man who sucked his teeth and called me "mami" for at least 3 blocks as I walked home last night.

But instead on focused on what was beautiful- sitting in the sun with a fantastic book and my handsome ham, my porky playboy, my cured-meat machoman, my cutie pie cold cut. Oh embrace me with your sinful saltiness! My precious Prosciutto, will you marry me?

Love Always,

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Tuesday, September 01, 2009

Dear Dude Requesting Me on Facebook,

I'm sure you are great. Really, Kenny or Denny or Benny (which all seem to be the names of strangers who send me such requests) you seem wonderful, truly. I mean, kudos to you for wanting to make my cyber-acquaintance. I'm always flattered when someone wants to be my friend whether it's based on genuine real-life interactions or simply cause my photo looks fun on a networking site. I mean that. I am a sucker for attention. And since I do put myself out there in the public eye and mostly use Facebook as a tool to shamelessly and shamefully promote my shows, writing, etc etc, I often accept friendship requests from strangers. I encourage people who like my work to connect with me online.

However today, I clicked "ignore" to you. I left you lingering in my requests lists for weeks because frankly, I hate saying no. I mean it's not just "no" it's "no" right to your face, literally, your little face is just pasted there next to your sweet plea of "confirm! confirm!" Don't get me wrong, you, with all those tattoos and that sultry spiked (are those frosted tips?) hair, I'm sure you are a super A+ sorta guy. Oh sketchy looking stranger, maybe if you were wearing a shirt in your profile pic I would have confirmed your friendship request. That, and maybe if you weren't also holding your daughter ( I assume it's your daughter) in such a sexy-ish? shot.

Again, I'm sure you meant no harm in wanting me to be your 7th friend but I just can't do it. The last time I confirmed friendship with a similar looking shirtless character who lived in Lebanon, I soon after got an email from the fellow saying "you look very senzual, can I take you out on a date?" Now I assume he meant "sensual." That, or he was referring to this random musical duo:

Whatever the case may be, I had to delete Mr. Middle East because I just don't want that sort of Internet interaction in my life. And since you and he both seem to hate clothing, which clearly means you are both totally like twins, I also don't want to interact with you. Unless of course you perhaps toss on a tank top, then maybe you can have the pleasure of knowing vital info about me like "Giulia took the Which Horse Are You Quiz? Result is Appaloosa."

Love Always,

ps. This rule does not go for women with topless profile pics. You gals can request me all you'd like. Yea! Bring it! Dat's what I'm talkin' about!
pss. That last ps. was a joke. I just want to see what it felt like to be really creepy. And what I learned is it feels gross to be really creepy.

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Friday, August 28, 2009

Dear Producers of More To Love,

(Much of this entry was originally published on the blog I work for I am reposting because this blog entry belongs on Dear Douchebag, and because I'm on vacation this weekend and it's easier to cut and paste while lying on the beach.)

Yes! As if husband hunting shows aren't already pathetic, just add the twist of highlighting how heavy the contestants are! The show lists each woman’s weight on the screen! If you are going to put such emphasis on how large everyone on the show is, I wish you would also put emphasis on how to help these people get healthy. Shows like “The Biggest Loser” helps, crap like “More to Love” that exploits plus-sized people hurts.

And why are overweight people segregated to their own show? If you want to promote the show as a “real” dating show for “real women” then why not mix people of all shapes and sizes? Isn’t that what the “real” dating world is like?

And I hate the term it when overweight women are called “real women.” Does that mean that someone who is a size 4,6,8,10 not a “real woman”? Please, can we stop pitting women against one another? All women are real… unless of course they are a computer-generated image or a robot.

Then again, I won’t be surprised if a freaky, “Weird Science” style dating show comes out next season where one man builds 20 custom designed mechanical mates and then picks one android to be his dream wife.

Even though I had decided I hated the show after only watching 10 minutes of the premiere, I still keep tuning every week just to see how nasty the train would wreck. I cannot express how uncomfortable I felt while watching this show. As if the “Bachelor” didn’t already make women feel like they needed a husband to feel good, now “More To Love” makes women feel like they need a husband to also feel comfortable with their bodies. The ladies are ALWAYS CRYING about weight-related depression and rejection saying that “guys never give me a chance” because of my weight. And here comes Luke, which the show has portrayed as the one and ONLY guy who can love a larger woman. While my heart goes out to these ladies who have suffered insecurities due to their weight, isn’t this show just feeding into the whole fat-girl-can’t-get-a-guy stereotype? I know plenty of bigger gals who are in great relationships, yet “More to Love” seems to indicate that only a made-for-tv plump prince can come in and make these girls feel like a plus-sized princess. Isn’t finding “true love” hard for lots of folks, of all shapes and sizes?

By the middle of episode two, some women were already saying they could fall in love with Luke, that they have never been treated so special the way Luke treats them cause Luke takes them in private jets and on yatchs. Um, guess what? Luke didn’t take you on a jet or a yatch, Fox did! Luke didn’t plan that romantic date, Fox did! Luke is just some cheesy dude who takes advantage of any moment of self-loathing you ladies have and then swoops in with variations of a “let’s kiss” line.

And as if on-air desperate dating wasn’t humiliating enough, you guys loooooooves to show everyone eating. Really? Do you really have to always show these girls with food in their hands getting all giddy about the fact that “it’s so nice to date someone that I can eat in front of!” We get it, there is more to love. But no, please, highlight a shot of contestant Bonnie sucking down a kebab and exclaiming “I love me a stick of meat!” Drive that fat point home. And be sure to get sound bites of Luke constantly saying “I love to eat! I love to eat!” because it wasn’t clear to us that he likes to eat.

Now imagine if Luke kept saying “I love to drink morning, noon, and night till I piss myself in my sleep” or “I love shooting heroin.” Would that be endearing and fun? You see, overeating is an addition yet for some reason it’s an acceptable addiction to make light of in our society. But obesity can kill people. An article in the Washington City Paper makes this great point: “If the source of the contestants’ hardships were something more openly maligned–anorexia, meth, furries–FOX wouldn’t have touched the concept. But being heavyset resides in a strange cultural limbo. Public health advocates call obesity a “killer,” but unlike tobacco, we’re not supposed to comment on or disapprove of fatness.”

“More to Love” is quite simply making spectacle of these people. The constant discussion of weight on this show portrays these people as though their size is their only defining characteristic. And the show further “otherizes” plus size people. It segregates love, as if a plus sized person and a thinner person could never be happily together. It perpetuates the notion that obesity is not a health epidemic, when the truth is obesity is a disease. It makes a mockery of body image, just calling the show “More” to Love puts all the focus on the gimmick of size, as if the only quality needed for a “fat girl” to fall in love is to find a “fat guy” who will accept her.

My favorite episode thus far has been the prom one where Luke gave these women the "prom of theirs dreams." Um, sharing your prom date with 15 other women? Sounds more like a nightmare (or I suppose if you're a kinky it could be a fantasy).

A few weeks ago I watch the show with my mom and when one of the girls was sucking face with Luke and telling the camera that she knows “he is the one” or whatever, my mom said to me “please Giulia, I don’t want to watch anymore of these stupid people, I want to watch smart people.” So we changed the channel to watch “America’s Got Talent.” Good call Mommy, good call.

More to Love? More like, More to Hate! Ha! Get it? Play on words! More to Hate! Badump-bump! So cleaver, right? Wrong. See what you're making me do, you're making me make dumb jokes. It's all your fault.

Ugh, I need a snack.

Love Always,

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Thursday, August 27, 2009

Dear Antonio Sabato Jr.,


"One hunk struggling to find a sweetie"
well, you should have dated me back in 1990 when I loved you, I was single, and I was twelve years old.

Love Always,

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Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Dear Readers,

(Warning! This is a love letter)

I really like you and hope you like my newest video at
"We" - watch more funny videos

If you like it, be sure to go to the site and click "funny." Your acceptance is very important to me.

Love Always,

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Monday, August 24, 2009

Dear Lady Exposing the Bottom 3/4 of Your Butt,

We are at Six Flags, there are already enough assholes running around without you having your hanging out the back of your "skirt." Us that even considered a skirt or is it just a three inch long belt? The only time such an outfit is even remotely aceptable us if your legs are wrapped around a pole and Mottley Crue is blasting in the background. But honestly I think even strippers would find your get up too trampy. The least you could do is put on underwear, unless of course catching rare diseases from having your bare junk touch fithly roller coaster seats is the kind of "great adventure" you were looking for.

Love Always,

ps. For a moment I was sad not to have snapped a photo of you on my phone but then again, why should you more exposure? There's really not much else to expose.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Dear Subway Acrobats,

While I may be sincerely impressed with your one handed back flips, please don't do them on the subway. It's already very crowded on this car and frankly, there is little to no room for you and 14 of your pals to breakdance.

Am I wrong for hoping one your heads slams hits the floor knockin' while you be body rockin? I don't want you to be seriously injured, I swear I am not that mean. I just want the universe to give you a little warning that the subway is not the place for putting on such an elaborate show. Why should we, the passengers, have to move from where we are standing so that you can force us to watch you do cartwheels to Kool Mo Dee mixes. I like cartwheels and I like Kool Mo Dee, just not on my train ride please. I mean really, look how cramped it is:

And while we're at it, I'm not going to buy a candy bar to support your highschool basketball team. You look like you're 35 which means your clearly lying and not in highschool or if at 35, you are in highschool I think selling candy is the least of your problems.

Please boyz, dance, flip, skip, bump, jump, whatever you wanna do, just please do it where there is room to move. Heck, do it and do it well above ground and I'll even put a dollar or two in your hat. But please, leave the subway space free for people to stand, I'd prefer not to be squashed between the subway doors and an extremely soaking-wet, saturated, stinky, sweaty sweaty, sweat, "I-hope-that's-his-cell-phone-poking-against-my-thing" sweaty man.

Love Always,

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Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Dear Iphone,

I love you. I love you so much I hate you. I hate you because you do so much causing me to so little. I mean, email, Ipod, texting and Internet? How am I suppose to keep my paws off you?

And note, I called them paws. Paws I said! Apparently, my hands are fat baseball mitts because I can't seem to master the art of touch screen typing. Seriously, I can't tell you how many times I wanted to text "what's going on tonight?" but what came out with my Frankenstien fingers was "qgsyd 746748 yibohfr?" Thanks for making me feel like a beast Iphone!

I'm sorry, I'm sorry I didn't mean to yell! Please, please don't freeze up on me. It's not your fault I can't spell.

One question though, how is it you can do just about everything under the sun except for texting photos? Do you not want me to send pics of my boobs to my boyfriend? why are you keeping my boyfriend and my boobs apart? What did we ever do to you?

None the less, I like you lots. I mean I'm using you to write this blog post instead of paying attention to the person talking to me, that's pretty neato. (Thanks Iphone for making me a rude asshole).

Love always,

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Monday, August 17, 2009

Dear Readers, (yet again)

I'm BACK! After a two year, yes 2 YEAR hiatus from this lovely blog I decided to start it up again. Why? Well, because even after 2 years of ending this blog I still have people asking me "when are you going to post something new on Dear Douchebag? I miss it." Seriously, someone telling me they miss my writing makes me bust at the seams with goofy glee. Thankyou, thankyou! Not only that, but I just opened up the account and found that people were still commenting and submitting letters even after I closed shop. Apparently, people like this thing. And not to mention that, well I like this thing. But paid gigs (nope this blog does not pay my bills, can you believe it?), other projects (like this, this, this, and this), distractions (I'm sorta obsessed with watching reality shows about little people) and life in general got in the way of me working on some projects that I really enjoyed (like this blog and my other creative baby which is also being resurrected later this month).

Don't blame it on sunshine, don't blame it on moonlight, don't blame it on good times, perhaps blame it on the boogie, suddenly I am feeling inspired to start back up on this lil' blog that put a smile on my face and from what it sounds like, it put a smile on your face too.

And for those whom this blog has caused a frowny face, because you've told me I'm an "asshole" in the comments. I'm back for your enjoyment too. (Insert smiley face icon here). Really, feel free to keep tell me I'm an asshole if in fact I am being an asshole. My opinion is just one opinion and I am always open to be proven wrong. (As I was so nicely put in my place for saying that big headphones look silly. I still think it's hilarious that the big headphones post has gotten the most complaints of all. Damn, people really love their sound gear).

Wow, two years and so many dbags I didn't get to write about. I wish I had the umph to put together a montage video like the memorial video they do at the Oscars, except instead of remembering actors and actresses that we lost, remember dbags that we gained over the past two years like Nadya Suleman, Cyclone Nargis,Soulja Boy, all those damn suicide bombers, Bernie Madoff, everyone who voted yes on Prop 8, Michael Vick, Swine Flu, and many many many more (please feel free to name your favorite dbags that I missed writing about in the comments below). But, editing videos takes time, patience, and hard work, and jeez I just got back on this blogging bandwagon, and now you want me to edit a video?! Gimmie a break would ya?

(Sorry for the outburst, it's not you, it's me)

So please, bookmark this blog, send in your submissions to this blog, and enjoy (with a sense of humor) this blog where I will celebrate the worst and best life has to offer. And on that note, this song seems totally appropriate for this occasion. Let's jam!

I missed you so much!

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Dear Readers,

I know we just went through this but this time I'm for realzies ending this blog.

I could continue to go on about what a creep Dustin Diamond was on Celebrity Fit Club ( I am ashamed to admit I watched it this weekend), or how disgusting it is that OJ Simpson still gets any media attention ( he is rumored to be contemplating suicide, wonder why) or that new sad excuse for an NBC show Age of Love ( I thought I could handle any reality ridiculousness but after the "cougars" were pitted against "the kittens" I had to shut it off) but really though, I think we all get it and frankly I am sick of talking about it day after day.

A big thanks to all of you who've enjoyed Dear Douchebag for the past year. Hopefully this summer a new annyoingly over-used insult word will sweep the nation and take the place of douchebag. I assume if any word were to take the place of douchebag it'll have to involve the word bag like douche bag, dirt bag, sleaze bag, ho bag. Perhaps colostomy bag will take the cake?

"Dude, you are such a c-bag for spilling Bacardi Limon all over my Camaro!"

Who knows.

What I do know is you can read stuff from me every other week at The and starting in late August I'll be writing for And if you're in major Giulia withdrawl check out for updates on other writing thingys in the works plus live show dates and videos. Also stay tuned for my newest work in progress web project

Be nice.

Love Always,

Thursday, June 14, 2007

Dear Friends,

In lieu of a letter I am sending you off to read something neato that I wrote at and something super cool I posted at Enjoy!

Love Always,

Monday, June 11, 2007

Dear Sopranos and/or anti-Sopranos groups,

I have The Sopranos finale and second to last episode DVR'd but can't get to it till Friday and it's hell avoiding Yahoo entertainment headlines and other pop culture news. Thus my avoidance of such gossip is greatly going to affect my blog posts this week. I mean I am sure the Sopranos buzz with die, but I am so damn scared that somehow, someone is going to blow it for me or rather my compulsive clicks will blow it for myself.

While we are on the topic, I'd like to take this time to discuss the intense likeness of my family to the Soprano family minus the crime of course, unless being adorable is a crime. (Yeah I did just say that).

We are quite like them.

I mean my mom doesn't wear velour jumpsuits and get manicures (oh how I wish she did). She much prefers my sisters old Z Cavarechi pants paired with my old "Unbutton Your Fly" t-shirt as her housewife-ing uniform.

My dad doesn't splurge on lavish steak dinners and Glenn Levit (oh how I wish he did). He can satisfy his taste buds quite nicely by filling up on treats served at Bank Openings and Hardware store hotdog bbq's. Toss him a can of Miller high life he's all set.

We don't have anyone in the family with Paulie's skunk hair (oh how I really really really wish we did). My parents did however force a painfully ambiguous bowl-cut on my poor sister from ages 2-13 despite her pleas to please, please let her grow a more girly cut. (My parents still will not disclose their reasoning for making their first-born daughter look their first-born son. Instead they do a denial song and dance when looking at old photos of my sister saying "Ha! She sure looked like a boy, huh? Why is that?")

So no, my family doesn't have all that badass stuff that makes the Sopranos so sexy but they do have the attitude.

Back when Italian organizations were stomping their feet over the unfair and wrong portrayal of Italian-Americans on TV and film (namely the Sopranos) I was dumbfounded. The NIAF was upset claiming that an overwhelming 73 percent (of entertainment outlets) portray Italians in a negative light as boors, bigots, or gangsters, but it’s not negative its pretty damn right on. (Again minus the gangster/crime thing).

Perhaps boor (a person with rude, clumsy manners and little refinement- I had to Google it) and bigot are harsh. Perhaps it doesn't pertain to ALL Italians but from what I've seen (and as a first-generation Ital I've seen lots) the boor part makes sense. I mean my dad screamed "Slow down!" to my sister as she read her beautiful speech at my wedding. The room was silent, people were tearing up, my heart was beaming, the moment was gorgeous only to be interrupted by a loud, half-kidding, half-thinking he was being truly helpful, roar.

Now while my daddy is a successful, intelligent, very funny bright man he is also as Italian media has said, rude with clumsy manners, little refinemnet plus a lil' wonky on the social skills with a dash of unfiltered almost turrets-like bluntness. Therefore based on one person, it my conslusion that the boor stereo-type is true. (Whoa, I guess I am a bigot and boor as well).

And it's not just limited to my culture as we've all been witness to what is preserved as painfully rude behaviors from foreigners. Between the language barriers (or "pretend language barriers" as my folks are still playing the " I no understand" card after 30+ years in America) and the sense of immigrant entitlement (a whole other topic to explore in a later piece/post I am sure) old school peeps from other countries can be a bit or a boor. (Perhaps this where Sasha Baron Cohen got the name for Bor-at? No? Anyone?) And I certainly don't mean boor as in bore because while my immigrant folks (and perhaps your parents or grandparents as well) can be quite shocking and unknowingly foot-in-mouth, they are always interesting (and I already said adorable, right?)

Love Always,

Thursday, June 07, 2007

Dear Loves,

I'll be writing weekly pieces for the blog. Check out my debut ditty about spelling and stupidity at Enjoy!

Love Always,

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

Dear Poison,

Oh no, oh no, no, no! You've become a cover band? My favorite band in 6th grade? The stars of my first sexual fantasy (minus Bobby, sorry I just wasn't that into brunette headbangers at age 12)? My hard rockin', ass kickin', hot pink lipstick wearin' hair band lovers are doing renditions of "Just What I Needed" and "Little Willy"???

It's bad enough that Bret Michaels is starring ina new reality show to find true love, now you and the boys have released a collection of cover tunes cleverly titled Poison'd.

I mean who am I to judge what rockstars should do once they get past age 45? I mean Aerosmith and The Rolling Stones still manage to rock, why not Poison?

Oh wait, perhaps it's because Aerosmith and The Rolling Stones are playing their own music! You boys have become a wedding band! Perhaps you could do a Poison'd cover of "Hot, Hot, Hot" or "The Chicken Dance"?

Clearly this letter has probably put our MySpace friendship at risk. I totally understand if you want to delete me as a friend. But please, understand I write to you as a friend. I am not sure why no one else has told you this yet but you can do better! Or you could also do other! I mean CC kicked some reality ass in those Surreal Life competitions. And Rikki's a pretty awesome artist. You have had long, wonderful careers. You have relationships, families, friends. You have money ( I hope). You have history. You have rocked. You've created good music. You've done so much, but covers are certainly not "What I Like About You."

Love Always,

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

Dear Readers,

I love you all so much that I am going on vacation so that when I return relaxed and rejuvenated, my posts will be even more magical than before! So hang tight and please check back here June 7.

Love Always,

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Dear Dr. Officer Baldwin, ( letter #8)

Well, our time has come to an end. Well almost. I mean there’s still tonight’s post-show recap extravaganza which is sure to include many questions, vague answers and of course admittance of “hearts on sleeves” and “putting of ones self out there.”

But the suspense is over. Americans are no longer at the edge of their seats aching to know who Dr. Officer Andrew Baldwin has made into an honest woman.

What’s that? Americans weren’t on the edge of their seats? Most of America didn’t even know this show was still on?


Well fine I was on the edge of my seat. Not so much because I was anxiously awaiting whom would be the future Mrs. Dr. Officer Baldwin (no that surprise was destroyed while reading a Bachelor message board spoiler post). I was on the edge of my seat so I could easily run to the toilet should I have to puke as tearfully you said “I love you” to both Bevin and Tessa before sending Bev’s back to wallow in her “it never works out for me!” mantra.

It was as if you only told Bevin you loved her because you thought Tessa didn’t love you. Then later when Tessa said she loved you were like “Bevin what? Make you think you can fuck with me. Bevin who? Recognize girl, An to the dy”

Look Andy, lots of us have been there. We pick suitor #2 for fear we can’t get suitor #1. The only difference is normally this occurs in high school when choosing betwixt two dates for the big dance. You end up having to have to lie to suitor #2 saying that you “have to wash my hair” so you can really go to the dance with suitor #1. Then in an act of bravery, suitor #2 ends up at the dance alone catching you with suitor #1 which prompts him/her to recite a big speech about honesty and love. This all of course is then followed by a big dance sequence. Suitor #2’s impeccable dance moves cause you to fall head over heels for suitor #2 but unfortunately by this point suitor #2 has found true love with another student. They ride off into the sunset in suitor #2’s unexpected convertible blasting a “Huey Lewis and the News” tune of some sort.

But when you pull this shit on TV you look like a big ol’ piece of turd with sparkling white teeth.

Of course this was not the grossest thing to occur on last night’s season finale of The Bachelor. Oh no. The grossest thing was a Tessa and Andy montage. And not just any montage, but a montage set to the elevator muzak version of “Love Lift Us Up Where We Belong.”

Love Always,

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

Dear Dr. Officer Baldwin, ( letter # 7)

Oh good Lord, will this show fucking end already? I know nobody is forcing me to watch but just like the Tyra Banks show, Entertainment Tonight and most if not all of the programming on VH1 I have to, HAVE TO be a witness to the doody that is pooped out of America's asses.

Now even though I have been watching the Bachelor since season one when the dolphin-like Alex Michal pretended to be into girls, I still will never, ever understand why anyone would ever partake in this over-produced pile of vomit. Yet year after year after year ABC manages to dig up dozens of desperate, wedding-hungry, “heart on their sleeve” wearing women who happen to own countless evening gowns (really where do these girls get all these dresses for every rose ceremony?) and guys with the whitest, shiniest teeth and the poorest, cheesiest acting skills to come on national television and force themselves into falling in love. And without fail, year after year after year, these women (most at least) “fall in love” with Mr. Crest White Strips. I mean love? LOVE? Like the way I love it when someone farts in the bathroom at work cause they think they are in there alone and then they come out and see me and try to make awkward conversation about the new scented rose soap. Cause that kind of love could logically be developed on a game show but no and somehow every season these bridal hopefuls pee-pee their panties with what they think is true, television developed love.

Oh sorry Andy, I forgot I was writing to you for a sec. Last night was a hard night for you. I mean really hard. It was so hard to spend three nights in Hawaii with three different ladies. It was so hard you had to take off your shirt and go swimming then you had to take off your shirt and go jogging then you had to just take off your shirt cause shirts cause confusion when deciding who to make your “wife.”

In the end it was Danielle whose heart you decided to break.
How could you Andy? Didn’t you hear her boyfriend died in college!? I mean for Christ’s sake she told you like 100 times that she has had a lot of loss in her life with her boyfriend dying in college! I mean her boyfriend died in college. What part of her repeating it over and over and over and over and over again in an attempt to play to wounded dove card did you not understand? I mean even after Danielle told you that she saw a psychic before coming on the show who specifically said that she would marry the third guy she seriously dated! First was the boyfriend that passed away, then another dude, then you. Yes Andy, Danielle considered getting CAST on a REALITY TV SHOW seriously dating. This was real serious. I mean its all on tape. And a psychic said so!

You got teary eyed as Danielle drove off but quickly cheered up when toasting with Bevin and Tessa. I’m not sure why you didn’t even suggest a threesome at this point. I mean both women clearly indicated they’d do anything for a rose. ANYTHING. But being the gentlemen, as in Office and a Gentlemen that you are you simply gave them each a squeeze and then probably retired to your room to jerk off while watching footage of all the contestants crying over you on their limo rides home.

The show ended with a dozen or so voice-overs of Chris Harrison saying variations on the line “watch next week as one woman’s dream of marrying an officer and gentleman comes true while one woman’s dream of marrying an officer and gentleman is crushed on ABC’s The Bachelor, Officer and a Gentleman.”

I miss Flavor of Love.

Love Always,

Monday, May 07, 2007

Dear Dr. Officer Baldwin, ( letter #6)

I'll keep this brief cause I really am starting to not care. I mean I never reall cared but like I really don't care.

Tonight , in what was advertised as "the MOST EMOTIONAL hometown dates EVER" you visited the hometowns of Bevin, Danielle, Tessa, and Amber.

Oddly enough Amber's parents weren't into the whole "competing for a husband on national television and risking getting shamed and heartbroken in front of all of America." That's weird huh?

Then in what was advertised as "the MOST DRAMATIC rose ceremony EVER!" with kinda sorta tears in your eyes, you gave Amber the boot.

It's so hard being the Bachelor. So, very very hard.

At least her folks can not say "I told you so" before what is being advertised as "the MOST INTENSE rose ceremony EVER!"

Oh well, let's booze!

Love Always,

Thursday, May 03, 2007

Dear Giulia,

You are not a douche cause you made fun of someone's style on Gawker's Looking at the Look Book.
You are a talented little asshole who in the name of "good fun" may or may not make people cry sometimes.

Love Always,

Tuesday, May 01, 2007

Dear Dr. Officer Baldwin, ( letter #5)

Ahoy Dr. Officer! Quite a nice date on your yacht last night huh? Yup your yacht. YOU decided to invite the ladies on YOUR yacht. The same yacht that last week you admitted to one of the girls was not really yours.

While on that yacht Bevin stole you away for some kayaking. You too canoodled while the others pouted. Later Bevin pouted when you talked to others.
What drama!

Bevin cried and told all of America "I'm 28! I'm too old to be dating someone who is dating other women, it's embarrassing!" You know what else is embarrassing? Being on the Bachelor and acting like the fact that the Bachelor is dating other women while on The Bachelor. She also something along the lines of "I really put myself out there"

Oh Bev!

You then had a one on one date with Stephanie who was speechless when you asked about her dreams and career aspirations. After the date Stephanie was upset because she wished she had "put herself out there" more.

Oh well!

Next you took the ladies to clean up and re-paint a schoolyard, which earned you big points.

Everyone cooed and aaahed saying such things as "it's so nice that Andy wants to give back to the community!"

Yes, the community that ABC scouted, booked and shot.

Also while at the playground Danielle "put herself out there" and told you how she counseled a special needs child. This gave you a boner so you hugged her.

Touchdown Danielle!

Then Amber put something out there. Can you guess what it was? If said a potato you are wrong. If you said "herself" you are right! You are a smart doctor indeed. Yes, Amber put herself out there and talks about her students playing on the fact that she is a teacher and they are at a school and there are kids and the Bachelor is saving the children of America.

Go Amber, go Amber go!

Last but not least, you take my gurl Tessa on a one on one date. She tells you, she tells us, she tells anyone who will listen about how she is trying to "put herself out there" but it's hard when you are dating so many other women. (again, had these women not seen the show before? Did they not read the contract? Did they think the "competition" part of the show was just a competition against themselves to see how much they could put out there? YES you are dating other women! There are other women! One dude, lots of women! It's the fucking Bachelor!)

Not to change the topic, but where is "there" that all these girls are going "out" to? God, can someone "put" you out "there" for a change?

Anyhoozers, roses were given away, Tina and Stephanie are sent packin'

Tina cries and says that you are "charming, but not my prince."
Stephanie laments over not doing more.
And I am left thinking, why are you the prize? Why is it assumed that the ladies will love you? That you are the ideal? What if all 20 women decided they did not like you? What would happen? I mean how is that every season, without fail, all the women want the Bachelor?

But don't you worry your pretty lil' dr. officer noggin about that Andy.

You just go on and keep asking those ladies to "hang in there." (I’m just waiting for you to start whipping out that kitten holding on to a tree branch inspirational poster) You don't need tell me why season after season after season women go on this ridiculous, cheesy, addictive television show and fall in love with whatever pretty faced man-slut Chris Harrison dangles in front of their marriage hungry hearts. No, you don't need to explain this to me I just um, well I just wanted to um. God this is hard for me. I just ahhhh, um I didn't want to do this but, well I had to ask cause I just wanted to really put myself out there.

Love Always,

Monday, April 30, 2007

Dear Smooching Couple on the Subway,

Yeah that's right, I was blasting Brittney Spears "I'm a Slave for You" on my Ipod and I am not asshamed! Don't think I didn't notice you two whispher and knod toward me, giggling and judging. I may sound paranoid but a person just knows when they are being talked about. I saw how you both jumped out of your neck nuzzles as Brit belted "can I get, can I get, whoaaaa..." Then you both smirked and sneared. I saw! I SAW!

So I turned down my volume and tried to listen in on your asshole-ishness. You noticed and presumably heard me turn down my pop magic and immediately changed the topic saying something about politics. Or maybe you were saying "Oh look that dumb girl is listening to cheesy pop tunes she must be too stupid to care about politics!"

You people make me sick. Don't you have other things to worry about like how gay you look sharing eskimo kisses? I mean it's a good fucking song okay? And if I wanna mouth the words and do the head swoop move like in the video it's my bussiness. And if I want to watch myself in the window reflection as I mouth the words and do the head swoop move like in the video it's my bussiness. And if I want to pant like a dog in heat during the "haahaahaa" heavy breathing part of the song as I watch myself in the window reflection as I mouth the word and do the head swoop move like in the video, it's my bussiness you caddy, immature turds!

Then, like a big girl, I put on Eminem's "Way I Am" super duper loud.

Yeah, I showed you.

And on that note...

Love Always,

Saturday, April 28, 2007

Dear Giulia,

You are a liar.
You an indecisive liar with no will power.

So you got some comment and a bunch of emails from readers complimenting your writing on this here site and asking you not to stop you not to quit blogging and you gave in! You gave in as if your readers are going to kill themselves if your stupid blog dies. You wish you were so special. I mean no offense Giulia, I am sure another sexy, sassy, sweet blog would swoop in and eventually win your old readers hearts over after you dumpd their asses. But none the less, you have decided to keep lil' dear douchebag going. Even though you are so sick of the word douchenbag. Even though the word douchebag is grossly overused. Even though you are getting busier lately and may not be able to write daily, you still can't kill your blog. I mean what else does one do wth all that Tyra rage?

So here's the deal, let's just write letters when we wanna. It may not be everyday but it will be often enough to make your awesome readers smile and prevent you from drinking yourself to death while reading US Weekly.

Really, was this a lame attempt at a publicity stunt? A lame bloggosphere publicity stunt?

Welcome back asshole.

Love Always.

Thursday, April 26, 2007

Dear Douchebag,

The time has come. I am breaking up with this blog. We lasted just under a year and boy was it fun.

I have really enjoyed ranting and sometimes sharing some love but now I am moving on to other things like trying to write and create for magazines and sites that not only pay (sometimes, just a little, pennies really) but magazines and sites that people actually read! ( Not to poo poo on you all, my 60+ a day readers).

Oh how I wanted to at least last through this season of the Bachelor but I just couldn't do it.

I'm also really, really, really sick of the word douchebag. Once upon a time in June 2006 I was visiting my friend Danielle at her office and we began talking about people. I got really heated about somebody that made me mad ( probably Tyra Banks) and called that person a douchebag ( it was just the start of the douche craze). Then it hit me! I am going to do something radically different online! Start a new blog! (cause the world needs more blogs!) And on that blog I will write letters to people who annoy me and I shall call those letters Dear Douchebag. Nice ring to it, huh? Brilliant, I tell you.

Since then I have discovered a plethora of letter writing sites and douchebag entiltled sites. (Hey, I never claimed to be super original). And just like when everyone in highschool got a crush on boy X, I decided I hated boy X and this blog has become boy X. Well I don't wanna make out with my blog name and marry it. I mean. Well you know what I mean. Do you know what I mean? Do I even know what I mean?

(This all makes sound pretty douchey, huh? Oh well, write me a letter about it)

Plus, I am a terrible speller and my Safari browser on my Mac disables my blogger spellcheck. I mean really people, this is taking up too much energy.

So anyhoo I'm out. Please visit for updates on where and when I'll be talkin' shit and writin' shit. I've got an article coming out in Playgirl next month and some other things in the works so please check my site for all that fun stuff. Also starting in May you can find me blogging for in the lifestyles section.

And to all those peeps I've written to over the past 10 months that I may have insulted, this one's for you...

I will miss you so very much.

Love Always,

PS. Today's Tyra is a special "So What!" episode about her "So What" positive body image campaign. In this episode Tyra said "I love Pinks hotdogs and usually I eat them without the bun but tonight I plan to get one with the bun! SO WHAT!" Then a girl came on and blew up her scale.Thankyou Tyra, what a lovely way to end my blog.

Thanks Tyra, what a lovely way to end my blog.

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Dear Dr. Officer Baldwin, ( letter #4)

A-dawg, brother be getting all slick n' sit up in dis piece. Yup last night you busted out all your smoothest moves when you and the ladies went to Tahoe.

Rather than nauseate myself and my readers with a long play by play of your dates (okay fine I am sleepy today) I will just remind us of the best quotes that flew out of your mouth last night:

-As you kissed Bevin "do you feel that? do feel the electricity when we touch?"

-To the ladies at the casino "keep it real girls, keep it real"

-To Bevin in your hotel room as you kiss "I want to be cured"

-Later to Bevin as you kissed "Want to give me check up"

(Nice work on the double doctor references!)

-To Tessa " You are my sanctuary. Please stick with it"

-To Tina " You are just what the doctor ordered"

Later to Tina "That was the medicine I needed"

(Quadruple doctor references! Hot damn Andy, you are on pun fire! No really, I sorta wish you were on fire)

Yet these ladies love Dr. Cheese.

They love your gooey, stinky, bright white toothed cheesiness. They love it so much that when Nicole didn't get a rose she lost it. Yes, sweet, adorable, lispy Nicole.

I thought she was my favorite. I mean I didn't think you were a good match because she seems, well sane and all but then I was proven wrong. When you did not give Nicole a rose she cried. Fair enough. She cried and moaned " Where do I go from here? How the HELL does that happen!?!!!!!!"

Then Stephanie T. lost it too. Well I don't think she ever really had it. Yes, delusional, non-blinking, titty baring, Stephanie. I knew she was my least favorite. She closed the show declaring "I'm leaving cuase of stupid jealous girls. Story of my life"

And there we have it. Clearly I am too mentally drained from ingesting so much Bachelor horse shit to end on a witty remark.

Till next week Dr. Officer...

Love Always,

ps. Andy, are you a robot?

Monday, April 23, 2007

Dear Girl with a New Cell,

Please do not test out all 30 of your ring tones in the middle Not Your Average Joes restaurant! I was just trying to enjoy a burger and some conversation when you insisted on spending 15 minutes choosing a new ring tone? Nobody is wowed with your Asian ditty or Fanfare melody. I'm sorry Mommy didn't call you pretty as a little girl but please, stop making us look at you.

I will say this, there is one type of person who is a bigger turd than you: those two chicks I saw at Target on Thursday who shopped for bikinis while blasting J-Lo's "Waiting for Tonight" on their Helio . When I see boyeez strutting about the city blasting hardcore rap from a boxboom I want to punch them in the dick, so you can only imagine the violent daydreams I had involving these two preppy tramps trolling the juniors section blarring bad pop music. Sorry sluts, Hortensia the dressing room attendant is not impressed and neither am I. Now please, use that Mossimo terry cloth tube dress as a noose to choke yourselves.

Can't we all turn down the volume a wee bit?

Love Always,

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Dear Mom at Naidres in Brooklyn,

Yes I am just another douchebag in here typing away on my laptop but really you and your 6 year old daughter are really going to LOUDLY play Monopoly in a coffee shop? Really?

You just screamed at your kid "No, no, NO! You owe me money for your income taxes!"

Income taxes? Age 6? It's not even Monopoly Jr. you asshole.

Really why don't you just yell " Everyone! Everyone please look at us! I am playing Monopoly with my 6 year old daughter. She's SOOOOOO smart, like a mini Donald Trump! Oh and I haven't been laid in 5 years since her father left me for someone with a soul!"

Love Always,

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Dear Dr. Officer Andy Baldwin (letter # 3, sorta) and the rest of the world,

I promised that every Tuesday I'd write to you and I have failed. Last night I forgot to Tivo the Bachelor! Recaps displayeed images and stories of injured ankles, drill sergeants, and mud spas. It looked like comedy gold and I was furious to have missed the show. Then I heard about the Virginia Tech shootings and for some reason missing your addictive pile diareha TV show suddenly seemed like a pretty fucking pathetic thing to get upset about.

I don't think I can say anything new about this terrible, scary, sad, devestating, and heart-breaking event. I have been reading what I can find online including these chilling blogs and video from students who experiences the shootings first hand. I cannot even understand what the fuck happen, what I do know that whatever reasons the shooter, Cho Seung-Hui gives for commiting this disgusting crime are completely irrelevant. There is no logical reason for such behavior. If you're in a bad mood and really need to shoot someone to feel better, please just shoot yourself you sick asshole. I was in a bad mood last week and I wanted to drink to feel better. I didn't pour vodka down the throats of innocent victims.

As I type this I am watching the press briefing from Virgnina Tech authorities and the police on CBS. Tears begin to fill my eyes. I am so sadden by how gross this world at times.

Then the news brief ends and we are returned to the reguarly sceduled programming already in progress. It's Entertainment Tonight and they are at the TV Land awards talking to older female celebs about staying thin. They interview Maureen McCormick about her getting slim secrets. Then they cut to the next story revealing exclusive photos from Dannielynn's photo album.

And then I just got sadder by how gross this world is at times.

Love Always,

ps. I promise I'll be funnier tomorrow assuming there aren't anymore school shooting between now and then.

Monday, April 16, 2007

Dear Giulia,

You had one of those weeks where you got on your own nerves. Normally when someone is being an asshole you can just walk away, but you can't walk away from yourself. So you decided to get drunk for a few days. Afterall you are a fun drunk and you don't walk away from a fun drunk.

Except for when you called a girl an asshole for stealing your cab on Friday night and then turned to her friends who were still behind and screamed "yeah I called your friend asshole!" holding your arms in the air like youse aboutz to brawl. The girl and friends didn't even say a word back to you so basically you were arguing with yourself. That was not fun drunk behavior.

As I recount the thoughts and things about my week past I can't help but hear this song over and over again in my head.

While I realize that KRS-One, Stetsasonic, Kool Moe Dee, MC Lyte, Just-Ice, Doug E. Fresh, Heavy D, Public Enemy, and Ms. Melodie were rapping about anti-violence awareness raising half a million dollars for the National Urban League and not about the violence inside an immature 20-something with daddy issues, I am still going to embrace their anti-self destructive mantra. Oh and I like to find ways to make everything about me.

But I think I what really helped snap out this funky mood was watching the newest inspirational and classy VH1 new series Charm School. It was beautiful to see that VH1 has decided to cut back on it's trashy TV and really try and make an impact in the lives of these scantly-clad, violent, fame hungry women.

VH1 describes the show as "thirteen of your favorite breakout stars from "Flavor of Love" seasons one and two are back for some heated competition. Living as a group, learning as a group and out for themselves, these former Flavorettes will be rigorously trained in proper etiquette and manners before competing in challenges to determine their poise and grace under pressure."

Last night, Rain/Thela's destructive temper caused her to be first to get the boot.

I don't want to be Rain/Thela. Perhaps she and I can both embrace the words of the Stop the Violence All-stars

"I'll drive to build And collect
ourselves with intellect,
come on To revolve to evolve to self respect
Cause we got to keep ourselves in check
Or else it's...

Self Destruction, ya headed for Self Destruction
Self Destruction, ya headed for Self Destruction"


Love Always,

Friday, April 13, 2007

Dear Hellmanns,

I just saw your new "Get real, get Hellmanns" commercial featuring a ethnically diverse array of folks spreading ( pun inteneded) the message that Hellmann's is a health food.
I am especially uncomfortable with your rethink mayo campaign. There is no need to rethink mayo when most of us don't like to think mayo in the first place. My college roommate was so grossed out by you that if our other roommates jar of mayo was blocking her beer in the fridge, she'd ask one of us to move it out of her way. She couldn't even touch a jar mayo, let alone rethink it. Creamy, stinky, gag-inducing, sour if used in a tuna sandwhich and left in the sun, fatty, mayo.
Wait, let me give mayo some consideration....
Yeah no, I don't wanna rethink it. I don't wanna think about mayo this much ever again.

Love Always,

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Dear Donna Hogan,

Using Anna's fame and death to self books and gain media exposure?Gross.
You make me sad.
I think "the story behind Anna Nicole" is about a shitty sibling crawling up her ass once she got money.

Get it "behind" and "ass"? Anyone? No? Get it? Okay.

Love Always,

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

Dear Andy Baldwin, ( letter #2)

As promised, here is my weekly letter to The Bachelor.
Thank you Officer Dr. Andy Baldwin for curing my case of the Mondays. You like that navy/doctor remark don’t ya? I know you do cause this season’s Bachelor is full of them!

The show started off with your two group dates. Before your first date you informed viewers at home that "operation soul mate is about to begin." (navy/doctor remark #1)

For group date #1 you and half the ladies went to the Saddle Ranch Chop Houseon Sunset Blvd. You said

"When you think of Hollywood you think of the Sunset strip. This is where it all happens!"

If you mean where underage wanna-be starlets get drunk at puke on one another, then yes you are at the right place.

Conveniently the bar was nearly empty at 4 o’clock in the afternoon so there was no line to ride the mechanical bull. One by one your bachelorettes straddled the beast as it vibrated and shook forcing thier breasts to bounce every which way.

When Tessa was thrown from the steed she cried “ I need a doctor!” (navy/doctor remark #2) And who ran to her side? None other than the Office and Gentleman himself!

After all that rough riding them bitches needed to get wet but first, a cocktail party is in order! The women were sent to a room to choose a gown for the event and then met you on the roof top of a hotel.

You repeatedly expressed your delight in being “surrounded by so many beautiful women” and how you must be “the luckiest man alive!” as you slid your hands up and down whatever female backside you could reach. I almost could see the little officer in your pants rising to attention but alas the stark whiteness of your teeth blinded me so.

Now back to getting wet.

Like any good navy man you know how to give orders, so you commanded your little love soldiers to go on! Get! Put on your swimsuits cause it ain’t no date if their ain’t no hot tub!


You greeted the bikini babes in the warm water with more “I’m surrounded by so many beautiful women” and “I must be the luckiest man alive!”

There were some moments where you had some “real connections” except for your one on one time with Tiffany W. (she's a medical equipment representative-ding ding ding it's Doctor related!). You found Tiff to be a bore, but later you made out with Bevin underwater and found her to be a whore! (How you like them, rhymes Dr? As in Dr. Seuss or perhaps Dr. Dre? Oh my! So many doctors!)

Quick everyone in the pool for a 5-some!!!

Alas the night and you both came to a close. Well I assume you came. I mean... you had to beat your navy noodle to a pulp after being “surrounded by so many beautiful women!” Come on admit it! Cum on! (jizz/dick remark #1)

Next up, group date #2. The second half of ladies were put to the test competing in a mini triathlon in hopes to win some one on one time with Athletic Officer Dr. Andy Baldwin.

There was cycling in bikinis. Swimming in bikinis. Erin and Susan holding hands as they walked the swim laps in bikinis. Running in bikinis.

Amber wins so you two do a lil’ canoodling on the beach both telling viewers at home that is was the most romantic thing ever! That sitting on the beach with a camera crew is the most romantic thing ever!

Wait a darn second, is that Andy or M-M-M-Max Hedroom?

And then, the best line ever spoken on the Bachelor, Amber talks about her athletic abilities saying “yeah I am preparing to run the 2007 Marathon!”

THE 2007 MARATHON! Oh my! Where is it held? In the capitol of 2007? Will you run down 2007 Street? Past 2007 Park?

Last but not least, you have a private date with Stephanie T. (She works as an organ donor coordinator. Dang all these bitches be all up in the medical field! )

As the winner of the initial rose last week she gets to join you on your yacht for dinner. The twist: she either gets s rose that night or goes home “never living out her dream of marrying a doctor!” After some nauseating re-enactments of scenes from the Titanic and some champagne sipping you go where else but to the HOT TUB! ( you must be all pruney by now, huh?)

Then, the second best line ever spoken in Bachelor history occurs when you ask Steph
“Do the girls in the house feel animosity toward you for getting that first rose?”

To which Stephoney replies
"Yes, the other girls are giving me animosity"

You immediately give her the rose.

The rest of the show is the cocktail hour/ rose ceremony. Yada yada “ I want a chance to let Andy know the real me.” Yada yada uncomfortable to watch foot massages exchanged with Tessa. Yada yada “will you accept this rose” Yada yada you send the virgin, the boring girl, and blonde #2 home. Yada yada you all toast as you say “I must be the luckiest man alive!”

Oh how I enjoy you Officer Dr. Ken!

Sorry, I meant Officer Dr. Andy

Love Always,