A Letter to Ann Coulter
Dear Ann,
You used to be fun. At least funny. At least gently and amusingly insane. But girlfriend, you've changed. The thousand-yard stare you've acquired in the last couple of years says lonely nights, too much wine, and insecurity about your career. Where to now, my sweet fascist? Another one of your silly books? More appearances on Hannity and Combs? Bill Maher has to be tired of you by now. You're anything but stupid, and by now you must see the writing on the wall. You'll never have a place with the Beltway in-crowd as they see you as a Northeastern hickoid pro-wrestler NASCAR type with a degree from Cornell. I mean really Ann, where can it go from here?
Ann, I think I have the answer. In fact, I know I do. I want to hire you, Ann. I want you to come and work for me. I want you to be my Ann Friday. My house-keeper, bee-keeper, floor, chimney and mine-sweeper. My window washing, grocery-buying, dinner-cooking, obsequious submissive concubine-domestic. You will laugh at my jokes, celebrate my victories, and lament my failures. You will praise my friends and vow great harm on all who oppose me. You will treat me like a god, a guru, a mentor, and the best night in the sack you've ever had. You will carry my bags, wash my cars, walk my dogs, and turn your savings over to me. You will massage Susan Sarandon's shoulders, whip up vegan delights for "Hanoi" Jane Fonda, and luffa Barbra Streisand's stretch marks. But most of all Ann, you will just shut the fuck up.
I can offer you a life of obedient servitude here on my compound. In your time with me, you will learn much. You will learn that America is made up of people from all races, walks of life and sexual orientation, and that it's all ok. You will learn to be patient and kind. You will learn the meaning of the word 'respect' and memorize all the lines to Caddyshack. You will listen to the Ramones, Black Sabbath, and the Brides of Funkenstien. You're a figure of fun, and I plan on having fun with that figure. You will learn who your daddy is, that's for sure. But mostly Ann, you will just shut the fuck up. C'mon Ann, ya fucking psycho. Let's do this!
-Henry
This letter was actually written and sent to Ann Coulter. Henry has yet to hear back from Ann. This is why I love Henry Rollins.
You used to be fun. At least funny. At least gently and amusingly insane. But girlfriend, you've changed. The thousand-yard stare you've acquired in the last couple of years says lonely nights, too much wine, and insecurity about your career. Where to now, my sweet fascist? Another one of your silly books? More appearances on Hannity and Combs? Bill Maher has to be tired of you by now. You're anything but stupid, and by now you must see the writing on the wall. You'll never have a place with the Beltway in-crowd as they see you as a Northeastern hickoid pro-wrestler NASCAR type with a degree from Cornell. I mean really Ann, where can it go from here?
Ann, I think I have the answer. In fact, I know I do. I want to hire you, Ann. I want you to come and work for me. I want you to be my Ann Friday. My house-keeper, bee-keeper, floor, chimney and mine-sweeper. My window washing, grocery-buying, dinner-cooking, obsequious submissive concubine-domestic. You will laugh at my jokes, celebrate my victories, and lament my failures. You will praise my friends and vow great harm on all who oppose me. You will treat me like a god, a guru, a mentor, and the best night in the sack you've ever had. You will carry my bags, wash my cars, walk my dogs, and turn your savings over to me. You will massage Susan Sarandon's shoulders, whip up vegan delights for "Hanoi" Jane Fonda, and luffa Barbra Streisand's stretch marks. But most of all Ann, you will just shut the fuck up.
I can offer you a life of obedient servitude here on my compound. In your time with me, you will learn much. You will learn that America is made up of people from all races, walks of life and sexual orientation, and that it's all ok. You will learn to be patient and kind. You will learn the meaning of the word 'respect' and memorize all the lines to Caddyshack. You will listen to the Ramones, Black Sabbath, and the Brides of Funkenstien. You're a figure of fun, and I plan on having fun with that figure. You will learn who your daddy is, that's for sure. But mostly Ann, you will just shut the fuck up. C'mon Ann, ya fucking psycho. Let's do this!
-Henry
This letter was actually written and sent to Ann Coulter. Henry has yet to hear back from Ann. This is why I love Henry Rollins.