Dear Jude Law

Who decided to give you money? How in the hell did you get famous? When did prissy British pretty boys get big time movies roles for practically nothing?

What is wrong with your face? The only two expressions you do are these two:

1) The sullen, "please take me seriously, because I am being serious," look.



This is the head shot that your agent sends out. More than likely this photo, is scattered around every large oak desk in Hollywood for fifteen minutes before it ends up in the trash because you are flat out terrible for every role, except for two. Those roles are playing the spoiled British pretty guy, who is ultimately a coward or a fraud (Talented Mr. Ripley) or the creepy guy who takes pictures of dead bodies (Road to Perdition) which you played so damn well I am convinced that is what you do in your free time. Why are you wrong for every other role? Because you can't act your way out of a paper bag, and everyone thinks you're Jude fucking Law and not a character anyone could identify with.

2) The fake awkward smile.



This is the look that Jeffrey Dahmer must have made after eating someone. You are a sick freak.

On a more serious note, what drug-fueled orgy/three-week drinking binge/trip to Vegas to kill some hookers whilst having a crack party, led you to the retarded epiphany that remaking Alfie with you in the starring role was a bloody brilliant idea? What makes you think that remaking an already great film is good for anything except as fodder for your own ego? Is there any other legitimate reason? Do you want to be Bogart in Casablanca too?

Imagine someone sitting on their couch seeing endless advertisements for your shitty movie, thinking "That pretty asshole Jude Law is doing Alfie." then, "I've already seen Alfie with Michael Caine and it was good." then taking a moment and concluding, "Why would I want to pay to see Alfie again but with that pretty asshole Jude Law and it's obvious that it's really going to suck." Why didn't anyone not explain this to you ahead of time? Do you not have friends? If you do have friends, are they the kind of friends who secretly pine for your downfall? Does anyone really love you Jude Law, the person, and not Jude Law, the facial features? I doubt it.

Let's continue critiquing 2004, the year you really were supposed to shine, but bombed harder than any war torn third-world country. You appeared in six major motion pictures, four of them with you're character being essential to the plot, (The Aviator and Lemony Snicket don't really count.)

This leaves I Heart Huckabees, Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow, Alfie, and Closer.

I Heart Huckabees; This must have been based around one weak acid trip when some college freshmen questioned existence, that got stretched into a feature length film, then tagged as existential because nobody understood it, because there wasn't much to understand. Nobody had the heart to tell David O. Russell that his idea was really shitty. (It's not like people are afraid of him or anything right...?) And since I remember you played some sort of yuppie with three inches of personality in the movie, I won't blame you for that tragic mess of a movie, though I really wish I could, I'd rather blame you than Russell. He made Three Kings. You haven't made jack shit.

Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow; Did you even read the script? Was there as script? I assume some Michael Boy clone/wannabe convinced you that this film would look pretty and retro, and other pretty people like Angelina Jolie and Gwyneth Paltrow would be in it, and lots of pretty planes and pretty sunsets and pretty buildings would be going on around you, the centerpiece, the pretty Jude Law. But since it would be really expensive, they needed your filthy amount of money to finance it, so they threw on a producer credit for you to make it worth your while, so you would believe in the project. And you went with this concept!?!?! They should have just called the movie Style and saved a bunch of money on those things called writers. But I don't think they hired them anyway. Not using writers is a very postmodernist invention. You'll hear about it soon.

Alfie; See above.

Closer; A next of kin to The Talented Mr. Ripley character. Whiny rich spoiled asshole get mad at everyone because he fucked up his own life, a character you hit a home run with. But instead of just Anthony Minghella and Matt Damon carrying your ass through the movie, you got Mike Nichols, Clive Owen, Julia Roberts and Natalie Portman carrying your whole fucking talentless piece of shit body through the movie. I guess you're good at crying, infidelity and hitting women. A real method actor you are Jude.

So in closing, I really hate you. I wish it was you and not Heath Ledger that OD'd, because you're stealing his role in Gilliam's next masterpiece that will get fucked over in production. And I think it's great that you're "doing" charity and getting back into theater instead of fucking the nanny in your spare time. Have fun playing the mildly insane pretty boy on the screen and in real life for the rest of your paltry existence.

Sincerely,
James

Dear Best Buy

I was recently perusing your store while a friend was acquiring a keyboard. There was a compact disc I decided to impulsively buy, so I got in line to pay for it. A young woman was the cashier and we, together, forged ahead in the bartering of currency for goods. I was paying with my debit card.

My purchase was approved, however, the receipt machine ran out of paper when my order was authorized, leaving me alone with no receipt to prove my purchase. The young woman appeared nervous explaining it was the beginning of her shift and she had "bad luck" with this station. I coordially requested, "But that's okay, I don't want a receipt anyway." My idea was denied, "You need a receipt to get out of the store," her eyes wandering away from mine, wincing at the senselessness.

You bastards. You make it that I cannot leave the store with an item without that silly piece of paper called a receipt. Why is it that at your store, a cashier cannot be trusted to inform the merchandise security detail that I honesty bought a product? Do you have no trust in your employees? Why even have them? Why not robots?

The young cashier called an assistant manager to the station and he also found himself puzzled to the situation. Another manager, the older female manager at this one of your stores, walked into the station and turned off the computer with a special key, never apologizing for your mistake, never speaking to me, or never noticing my existence- me! the customer! the consumer!- the one who keeps corporate whores like yourself running.

The older manager returned with a piece of plain paper. This was my copy of the purchase, this was my new receipt. I attempted to talk to your manager but she walked away back behind a white door of mystery before I got the words out of my mouth. I walked out your door, and the man who checks the receipt looked blankly down at the paper and waved me past, not even caring if I really had the piece of paper. It was all for naught.

Fuck you, Best Buy. Fuck you, for wasting my time with your stupid bureaucratic methods.

Sincerely,

James