Thursday, January 21, 2010

(Completely Imaginary) Celebrity Advice Column #3

Dear Kate & Lydia,

I'm a good guy. Please tell me how to remind America of that.

Regular John

Dear Regular "John",

Forgive us the time delay in getting back to you, John Edwards. We were busy pulling ourselves off the floor and re-setting our jaws.  We might have even liked you at one time.  Before we got to know you.  Now we know soooo much more than we ever wanted to.

Let's get thing one very clear. You, John Edwards, are not a good guy. Screwing some "filmmaker" while your wife is battling terminal cancer, getting said film maker pregnant, denying it, making one of your staffers pretend to be the father, AND bribing both of those people with new houses to keep their yaps shut does not make you a good guy. It makes you John-Edwards-is-a-douche guy.

I suppose we should congratulate you on actually admitting you are the father of that little girl. Did you really think anyone believed you when you denied that you were her dad? What are you? Headless? We knew you were the Breck Girl, but we just didn't realize you were as obtuse as you were vain. It takes a lot of work to be that stupid. Ummm, well done?

And, while we're at it, to whine and moan about the Two Americas and how you "get" what it's like to be poor, you live in a 25 THOUSAND square foot house! You don't even know what it's like to share the same acre with another person, much less a room. Ugh.

We remember when your wife (Elizabeth? remember her???) gave Oprah a tour of your country -- I mean, your house -- even Oprah was like "got enough rooms?" Oprah is the Kate of material excess, and she thinks YOU are ostentatious. And by ostentatious, I mean a douche.

As for Elizabeth (again, she's your wife), we commend HER for the fact that she's staying with you. Our husbands would be the victim of a random handgun incident. We're not sure of why she'd want to see you every day, but maybe Elizabeth is sorta like us, and she knows that every time she accidentally runs into you in your "house" she gets to knee you in the groin. Hell, we'd take one of her chemo treatments if it meant we'd get to take a flatiron to your testicles.

Finally, just in case you fall under the delusion the world may want you to re-emerge, remember that this is our collective recollection of you:

[Editor's Note: I freely admit to being vain and sort of a narcissist. Lydia told me yesterday that she bought her first full-length mirror in 5 years. I have 6 in my house. It's gross. But when I am horrified at someone's vanity, it's BAD. And, for the record, your hair looks no different in the first 10 seconds than it did for the next 6 MINUTES. We had to hunt around to find a shorter version. God, you're a douche. - Kate]

We're pretty absolutely sure we need to see you NEVER again. Please go away. Preferably in your house. That way no one can ever find you. Unless, of course, they're wielding a flatiron.

xo Kate & Lydia

PS: We're totally going to teach Quinn (she would be your daughter, jeez) how to say douche.

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