Sunday, March 6, 2011

#WINNING--Because Money Talks

Dear Mr. Sheen,

There is a point in every person's life when they look back and mentally grimace over their past transgressions, be it a girl riddled with low self-esteem seeking affirmation by flashing her girly parts for the camera, a flamboyant fashion designer spouting anti-Semitic views, or Bill Clinton trying to convince us that 'he did not have sexual relations with that woman.'  I hope you can get to that point before your family has to put you six feet under.

Do us all a huge favor and give Robert Downey Jr. a call.  There's a person who did a fair amount of stupid-ass shit, but he seems to have pulled himself together quite well these past few years.  I bet the man has a lot of good advice, like "you need to cut back on the piles of blow if you don't want to lose your nose" and "Hookers, hot they may be, are not totally trustworthy people.  You are paying them to have sex with you, so the moment the money is gone they're not gonna hang around for your rapidly diminishing good looks."

I'd like to apologize on behalf of all the jackasses (me included) that are laughing AT you.  (But seriously, you are saying some damn funny stuff).  It is a shame to see a talented person spiral out of control and the fact that we are enjoyed your demise is a testament to the fact that you must not have anyone that really cares about you. 

If we were to take money out of the option, say put me in place or the local homeless man on the street corner, this situation would be neutralized by day 2.  Why does money give you a carte blanche on reckless, borish, whorish behavior?  If I were to spout things like "I'm sorry my life is so much more bitchin than yours.  I planned it that way," I'd get bitch slapped by my mother and promptly deleted from the telephone directory of several dozen people. 

Where will you be when the money is gone and your world collapses in like a black star?

What will your children have to deal with as they get older?  A psychotically deranged father cared for by round-the-clock nurses?  What sort of personal demons are you setting them up for?

Take my advice and get your head out of the blow, step away from "smooooking hotties," and get yourself to a doctor.  FAST. 

Sincerely,
The Diatribest