an open letter to Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III (second in a series)
Dear Pete Wentz:
...look, if you want to move the tour back 'til May because the four of you plus assorted managers/roadies/et. al. cannot figure out that after touring Europe together, you might possibly need some time away from each other, that's -- I mean, that's fine. It makes me wonder if any of you have the sense God gave a deer, because I love my friends to death, and *I* have not spent the better part of seven years stuck with them in cramped spaces; to me, taking two or three weeks off from each other's company seems kind of like a no-brainer. But it's fine! It's cool!
(Also, I'm still not convinced it's not, in some small way, because I'm cursed. More on that -- and the betting pool -- as things develop.)
By that same token, if Ashlee Simpson makes you happy -- you know, I'm not your mom. I don't know you. You know, mileage varying and all of that. I'm just saying, she does not strike me as the world's greatest conversationalist. Also, before you commit to anything serious, just remember: Joe Simpson will be a fucking attack dog when you break up with her. Which you inevitably will, because you do have a brain in your head, and God help me, you are making me MISS JEANAE WHITE. And I am not entirely sure the two of you will not one day end up as an episode of COPS, all right?
PS -- seriously, what, does she give, like, phenomenal head or something? WHAT? It's been four or five months now, and with every passing day, it makes LESS AND LESS SENSE.
...look, if you want to move the tour back 'til May because the four of you plus assorted managers/roadies/et. al. cannot figure out that after touring Europe together, you might possibly need some time away from each other, that's -- I mean, that's fine. It makes me wonder if any of you have the sense God gave a deer, because I love my friends to death, and *I* have not spent the better part of seven years stuck with them in cramped spaces; to me, taking two or three weeks off from each other's company seems kind of like a no-brainer. But it's fine! It's cool!
(Also, I'm still not convinced it's not, in some small way, because I'm cursed. More on that -- and the betting pool -- as things develop.)
By that same token, if Ashlee Simpson makes you happy -- you know, I'm not your mom. I don't know you. You know, mileage varying and all of that. I'm just saying, she does not strike me as the world's greatest conversationalist. Also, before you commit to anything serious, just remember: Joe Simpson will be a fucking attack dog when you break up with her. Which you inevitably will, because you do have a brain in your head, and God help me, you are making me MISS JEANAE WHITE. And I am not entirely sure the two of you will not one day end up as an episode of COPS, all right?
PS -- seriously, what, does she give, like, phenomenal head or something? WHAT? It's been four or five months now, and with every passing day, it makes LESS AND LESS SENSE.