Dear Celebs: Huzzah for the Short Week! Huzzah!
Dear Charlie Sheen,
Everything I tried to do with the Michael Bay character you tore down, burnt the wreckage, salted the earth, then ascended to the heavens like a god reclaiming his rightful place on Olympus, and sent meteors crashing into the pile of ash and salt.
I mean, the amount of crazy you are broadcasting is baffling. It takes me around an hour and a half to two hours to write the Michael Bay blogs, and you’re doing multiple interviews to different sources never once repeating yourself while continually upping the insanity ante.
It’s humbling. It’s baffling. It’s extraordinary.
You’re tapping into something else, and I want in. This is Grant Morrison, Jack Kirby, Darren Aranofsky, Christopher Nolan realms of applied crazy. You’re coming at this from angles and dimensions that require new kinds of maths and numbers to name, let alone understand.
It’s such a heavy kind of insanity; that, I’m finding it filling. I haven’t had to eat in weeks, because I’ve filled up on your industrial strength crazy. You’ve claimed that regular people’s physical shells can’t tolerate your drug of choice, also called Charlie Sheen, but apparently second hand it functions as fuel for the body. I, however, require your teachings to nourish my soul.
Straight up, I don’t care if it’s drugs or not. Whatever gets you through the day, though according to Tyler Durden, while you had Radar Online at your place to witness you take the drug test, they didn’t bring the test. A doctor or medical professional did not bring a test with them. The test was already there; you took it, and you passed it.
That’s some bullshit right there. Also, you were suspected of drug abuse (this time), when, the end of January? Cocaine goes through the system in five days, but the byproducts of being metabolized stick around for over a week.
There is no way you stopped doing coke for eight days. Just no way.
THC shows up for weeks and even months in heavy users. That’s you, Charlie. There’s no way the guy with the smut theater who wanted to fill a mansion with porn stars and start some sick-ass family confined himself to only three vices (coke, booze, porn star).
On the absolute outside, no bullshit, the guy who reportedly got coke by the briefcase went cold turkey for over eight days and the only side effect was the ramblin’ crazies? No major health issues?
I want to sit at the feet of the master, but the master needs to be real. Shit, own it. The cops in this town are hard as nails until it comes to dealing with celebrities. Just do coke, and go on talk shows.
Do not, I repeat, do no get your own show. A plan, a schedule, and your name on the door are the enemy. You need spontaneity, and for people to be able to get in your face, and the only way that’ll happen is if they feel in control on the set of their own show.
C’mon Charlie, you’re a battle tested transforming jet warlock. Just go with it.
Dear James Franco,
Time to pack it in, man. Charlie Sheen beat you, too.
Listen, all these side projects and doing weird, “zany” shit as performance art was great. You did some funny stuff, but that fiction only held until Sheen showed up and was actually that nuts. He truly does not give a shit, and in the wake of his Kingdom of Living Flame, it’s over.
We know you’re winking at us. We understand there’s a smirk now. We know that you’ll never fully commit because you can always pull the “I’m just kidding” ripcord. We can’t watch you plot the motions when Charlie Sheen is surfing over said motions on a mercury surfboard.
Mercury would kill the average person.
It sucks. I feel for you, I truly do, but maybe it’s time you embrace being a likable leading man who can do both comedy and drama. Would you be willing to do a buddy comedy with Paul Rudd? That’d probably be pretty funny.
At best, you could be the new Johnny Depp, a good looking guy who doesn’t just do good looking guy roles and shows a large degree of self-awareness.
Graduate from Columbia with whatever you’re actually studying and let’s move on to something else. It’s time to grow up.
Dear Martin Sheen,
I really respect your work. Apocalypse Now, Gettysburg, and the West Wing are all amazing showcases of acting and story.
I’m really sorry your son’s a nutter butter. Most of us are really enjoying it, granted I’d love it if my Twitter feed would lay off, but hey, culturally we all became vultures and jackals at some point so what are you going to do? Set a good example?
Anyway, I wanted to drop you a line and let you know how much I admire your work, but I can’t actually come and help you because I’ve been playing a lot of Mass Effect 2. A LOT.
Your portrayal of the morally compromised Illusive Man is going to force me to take a swing at you in public and scream, “Commander Matt Shepard doesn’t take orders from anyone except Mrs Commander Shepard!”
I don’t actually know who Mrs. Commander Shepard is yet, as none of the female characters in the game want to let me sex at them, yet. Digital Matt and Actual Matt have a lot in common. A LOT.
Keep your head up, Mr. Sheen. We all promise to remember you for Apocalypse Now, and the fact that you did a voice on Captain Planet for some inexplicable fucking reason, and not that your son slowly committed suicide in the public eye.
Dear the Internet on Phones,
Here’s how it is; “mobile” versions of websites are fucking stupid.
It’s supposed to be a slimmed down version for phones so stuff loads faster and is easier to navigate. Except it’s not. It’s actually really annoying.
Instead of loading, say, blog sites, as a single field of all the entries, you load the first ten words of each story. This does not cut down on load times, because I have to click on each story to read it, let it load, then when I’m done, click back and let the hub page reload.
Of course being a mobile site, it’s tiny! Because mobile things are things on the go and those are by and large tiny! So everyone goddamn link and button on the site is tiny and right next to each other. I want to read an article, not play Operation. Of course if I hit the wrong button then the content I didn’t mean to hit loads, so then I have to hit back.
Look, just make it so there is as few things to click as possible. Make it look like the actual website, but move the stupid sidebar that takes me to different websites to the bottom and make every link be housed inside large, easily clickable boxes.
Listen, Internet, it’s not difficult to go through life as not a shit head. The first step is to pull your head out of your ass. That’s where all the shit is. Your ass.
Loman, out. See you kids Monday. Short week, BOOSH.
Posted on March 8, 2011, in Matt Loman, Movies, Pop Culture, Television and tagged celebrities, celebs, charlie sheen, Dear Celebs, internet, internet on phones, james franco, letters, martin sheen, mobile internet. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.