Dear Justin Bieber,
You are EVERYWHERE. I opened my kitchen cabinet this morning and halfway expected you to tumble out of it. I swear, you’re worse than Miley Cyrus.
Good luck getting your driver’s license and growing a beard,
Dear Lady Gaga,
Really? A dress that looks like it’s made out of meat? Let’s stick to the bubble wrap and bird’s nests in the future, if it’s not too much trouble. I can’t handle watching you walk around covered in steaks. It makes me feel sticky all over.
I’m your biggest fan (and I’ll follow you until you love me… wait, no, those are just your song lyrics)
Dear Brett Favre,
Well, thanks to you, another of my celebrity crushes has been dashed to pieces. Sexting with a girl who’s half your age? Seriously? Who are you?
Way to go, Grandpa,
Dear Kesha (excuse me, Ke$ha),
We get it. You like to party. Please get ahold of yourself before you become the next Britney Spears / Lindsay Lohan train wreck. Also, it would be nice if you could sing about something besides going to the club and driving around in your gold TransAm.
There’s no glitter here,