Vanishing Points
An open letter to all the skinny bitches in Hollywood.
Dear Skinny Bitches,
Stop.
Just stop it, ok? No-one thinks you're beautiful, you just look like freaks. Enough with the starving, purging and painful weight-loss. You look like DEATH. Lindsay Lohan, Mischa Barton, Terri Hatcher, Nicole Ritchie and whichever Olsen twin has the eating disorder, I am looking squarely in your direction. For your own sakes, and for the sake of my lunch which I'd very much like to keep down, eat a freakin' sandwich. You people are making me sick.
If aliens were observing our race from their flying saucers hovering miles above the planet, doubtless there would be endless debate among them as to why we foolish humans were idolising those brightly painted walking skeletons. We must seem like such jerks to them. We applaud and emulate this image of dessication. And why? Because the magazines tell us so. Ah, but here's the catch - the pictures in the magazines LIE.
You Skinny Bitches can stop pretending that you actually look the way you're presented in those glossy toilet paper books. We know those pics are photoshopped and airbrushed and retouched to death. You all have blemishes and melanomas and wrinkles and sagging skin, but your publicists are there to stop us ever seeing that. So now a whole generation of young women are starving themselves, torturing their still-growing bodies because they want to be like YOU - and you look like you haven't had anything solid pass your lips since the early 90's. Wake up, Skeletor - food is good, people like having flesh, and your body needs those carbs (FYI - Atkins was a dick who died a fat bastard).
You see Bitches, I'm onto you. And if I have to come to LA and force-feed each of you until you look human again, so be it. You heard me - you don't look human anymore. You look like you can barely stand up under your own strength, let alone parade around in front of the cameras. I don't know if anyone told you, but women are supposed to have curves. Breasts are also a standard feature which you seem to have decided you can do without.
Here's another thing you Skinny Bitches do that pisses me off - anorexia is a serious problem that many people struggle for years to overcome (brought on largely by the Sorority of Skinny Bitches and your wretched ilk), and you jerks wear it as a fashion accessory. Have your head examined, and then take a day-trip to Smorgy's. It's not like you can't afford it.
You Skinny Bitches and the cosmetics companies and the Estate of Dr Pile-O-Bacon Atkins are making a fortune off the insecurities of others, and for that you should all be burned at the stake. Not that you'd burn for long. It would be like trying to make a bonfire out of toothpicks.
So just STOP. Keep your grotesque, rattling frames away from me. Some of us are trying to eat.
Lots of love,
Christian
Dear Skinny Bitches,
Stop.
Just stop it, ok? No-one thinks you're beautiful, you just look like freaks. Enough with the starving, purging and painful weight-loss. You look like DEATH. Lindsay Lohan, Mischa Barton, Terri Hatcher, Nicole Ritchie and whichever Olsen twin has the eating disorder, I am looking squarely in your direction. For your own sakes, and for the sake of my lunch which I'd very much like to keep down, eat a freakin' sandwich. You people are making me sick.
If aliens were observing our race from their flying saucers hovering miles above the planet, doubtless there would be endless debate among them as to why we foolish humans were idolising those brightly painted walking skeletons. We must seem like such jerks to them. We applaud and emulate this image of dessication. And why? Because the magazines tell us so. Ah, but here's the catch - the pictures in the magazines LIE.
You Skinny Bitches can stop pretending that you actually look the way you're presented in those glossy toilet paper books. We know those pics are photoshopped and airbrushed and retouched to death. You all have blemishes and melanomas and wrinkles and sagging skin, but your publicists are there to stop us ever seeing that. So now a whole generation of young women are starving themselves, torturing their still-growing bodies because they want to be like YOU - and you look like you haven't had anything solid pass your lips since the early 90's. Wake up, Skeletor - food is good, people like having flesh, and your body needs those carbs (FYI - Atkins was a dick who died a fat bastard).
You see Bitches, I'm onto you. And if I have to come to LA and force-feed each of you until you look human again, so be it. You heard me - you don't look human anymore. You look like you can barely stand up under your own strength, let alone parade around in front of the cameras. I don't know if anyone told you, but women are supposed to have curves. Breasts are also a standard feature which you seem to have decided you can do without.
Here's another thing you Skinny Bitches do that pisses me off - anorexia is a serious problem that many people struggle for years to overcome (brought on largely by the Sorority of Skinny Bitches and your wretched ilk), and you jerks wear it as a fashion accessory. Have your head examined, and then take a day-trip to Smorgy's. It's not like you can't afford it.
You Skinny Bitches and the cosmetics companies and the Estate of Dr Pile-O-Bacon Atkins are making a fortune off the insecurities of others, and for that you should all be burned at the stake. Not that you'd burn for long. It would be like trying to make a bonfire out of toothpicks.
So just STOP. Keep your grotesque, rattling frames away from me. Some of us are trying to eat.
Lots of love,
Christian
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