So I’m taking a wee break while I get my life in order and try to find a new place to live.
Don’t worry though because some wonderful blogging ladies have volunteered to entertain you in my absense.
First up….WR from White Rabbit…
If I had the chance, I would just skip the letter and slap you across the face. Sadly, this is The Internet and I can’t do that so I’ll proceed.
Taylor, Taylor, Taylor – That is unless you have decided to change your name to something more edgy and emo like…I dunno…Blackwidow or Svetlana Megadeath.
You upset me very much. Your face. Your attitude. The way you dress. The very mention of your name makes my skin crawl with embarrassment for you.
Sometimes when I am in the middle of cringing for you and your behaviour (all your own fucking fault I might add), I try to remind myself that you are just a child. You are a CHILD. A child who insists on flashing her illegal boobs at the paparazzi. The way you dress is all kinds of wrong and I’m sure if you weren’t getting a steady paycheck from a studio or your little music project that lets you pretend you are a rock star, you wouldn’t have been taken into care by now.
“She also grins when asked if she’s single, and replies that she is, that she’s not into guys, waits a beat, then adds she’s not gay but just bored of men and her best friend is her vibrator.”
Bored of men at 16? Talking about vibrators before you are even legal? How controversial of you. Dick.
You make me feel old. Very old. I remember the days when you were just a sweet button-nosed little Cindy-Lou Who in The Grinch. I bet it delights you to be associated with something so wholesome doesn’t it? Who would have known you would turn into an unwashed, tatty lingerie wearing, banshee with a possibly haunted vagina screeching about how edgy she is to anyone who will listen. The more you shite on about how little you care and how all this dark, emo stuff just comes naturally to you without any pre-planning simply achieves the opposite dear. It’s hard to be taken seriously as a hardcore goth when most people associate you with either a kids film or a teen drama about superficial slutty rich kids eh?
“I probably am a bad influence. The other day, this reporter brought his 12-year-old daughter to an interview. She was looking at me open-mouthed, like: ‘I want stripper shoes, Daddy!’ He hated me! But I’m not saying, ‘Be like me.’ I hope girls read what I say in interviews – they should just be themselves. They wouldn’t want to be like me. I’m crazy. I’m fucking out of my mind. I’ve been told I was out of my mind since I was 11.”
Whatever you say dear. You are ‘mad’ so you are.
“Everyone’s like, ‘Wow, why is she upset and why is she so miserable about things?’ My parents signed me up with Ford (modeling agency) at the age of two. No two year old wants to be working, but I had no choice. My whole life, I was in and out of school. I didn’t have friends. I was working constantly and I didn’t have a real life.”
There is nothing I love more than spoilt little Hollywood brats complaining about the hand they have been dealt despite an obvious lack of talent (Kristen Stewart I’m looking at you). You, Ms Momsen, are a prime example of such an arrogant spoilt brat. If you want a real life, the door is right there.
Everything you do seems to be an adolescent statement of teenage rebellion. Take your recent appearance at the Nickelodeon Kid’s Choice Awards. My aren’t you happy looking. You could not demonstrate any more how little you give a shit about these things Taylor. You have a face not even your Ma could love. However, I ask you, if you REALLY didn’t give a shit why would you be there in the first place Taylor? Why be there in the first place?.
You make ME want to die Taylor Momsen. Die of CRINGE. I know one day you’ll wake up and think back on your stupid teenage antics made in an incredibly public forum and you will be mortified and I will laugh, LAUGH I SAY from whatever it is I’m doing. Possibly writing another angry letter to the celebrity annoying me at the time.
In conclusion – Grow up you little emo twat. Brush your hair and put your knickers away. You aren’t old enough to be flashing your crotch around like some cheap hooker…or Madonna.
Lots of love