OK, thankfully the Miley-Cyrus-at-the-VMAs furor has died down. The open letters to Miley, and her father, and all of Hollywood, and Congress, and ANYONE WHO WILL LISTEN OHMYGODWON’TSOMEONEPLEASETHINKOFTHECHILDREN!!!! have finally slowed or even stopped. I don’t really get the “earnest open letter to famous person” madness that seems to happen all over social media when some celeb has been targeted for a public intervention. Hey guys. No celeb is reading your open letters. Trust me. They are way too busy feeling awesome and, if you are going to negate that business, they are not trying to hear that. If you are writing open letters full of ass-kissing and unicorn love, they aren’t reading that either. If I thought this was a successful course of action, I’d be banging out an urgent electronic missive to Federer. It would go something like this:
Dear You’ve-Got-My-Vote-for-Best-Tennis-Player-Ever AKA Capt. Hottie with the sexy voice,
Please go back in time and retire from tennis after winning last year’s Wimbledon title. You will not have to listen to a year of “Dude sucks and I don’t know why in the world we discussed the possibility of his being the best tennis player ever.” You will not miss that conversation, believe me. Also, thanks for giving me years of watching you play tennis with a mastery that still amazes me.
A Steadfast Fan
I might send a note to Dave Matthews to let him know that I think he is an odd bird in the good sense, and I can dig that as I’m an odd bird myself (though maybe not in the good sense). Nah. That’s two letters, and I’m pretty lazy. So, just the one to Roger. And of course I’m not corresponding with Roger Federer or Dave Matthews or any other sports figure, or rock star, or celebrity or famous person because I was born with a working brain cell or two and know that those people haven’t the slightest interest in hearing from me. Hell, I’m not famous in any way at all, though I do play a famous person in many of my nocturnal dramas, and I don’t want to receive correspondence from random peeps. I bet you don’t either.
Anyway. Back to Miley. I saw Miley Cyrus perform at the VMAs, and my reaction went like this. Aw, that’s too bad that she’s creating an embarrassing memory right now in front of so many people. My other thought was, “WHAT IN THE WORLD IS UP WITH HER TONGUE? IS IT SUPERSIZED?” Yes, that is in all caps because I just couldn’t get past the tongue. It showed up in a dream later that night. I’m not even kidding. It was just a giant tongue sitting in a chair that I worked into one of my dreams. Very odd, but it really added some extra atmosphere to that particular dream. Had it contributed dialog, it would have turned that dream into a nightmare, but it was mercifully silent. I think it’s the new “elephant in the room” for me. But I digress again! The twerking! I’m just so glad that Miley made twerking a word familiar to us all because when Joan Rivers mentioned at the beginning of the Fashion Police ep. that they were going to be twerking, I knew I was about to witness something awesome!!!! People, behold:
No, it is NOT a stand-in! Yeah, it is TOTALLY a stand-in. But tell me that just the idea alone of Joan Rivers twerking isn’t laugh out loud funny. Go on, tell me.