Dear ER,

Hi ER. I know you're busy what with Mostly-Dead people wandering in on their bloody stumps every half hour or so, but we really need to talk.
You and I? We've have some good times. Remember when you revealed to me that Dr. Weaver was a tricked out hobbling muff diver? Or the time Carter proposed to Abby and she went so The Crazy that she almost jumped of the roof? Or how we wept openly together when Dr. Green dropped dead on a beach?
Good times.
But, ER? It must be said...it's time to bail on you.

You see, your time as "The Doctor Show Everyone (and their mother) Watches" is over. We have Grey's Anatomy for that. That show knows how to write a story and take it to a somewhat believable end.
And you?
Not so much.
Because every time something good happens to one of your characters, you ruin it. And I don't mean with a broken relationship or faltering career. I mean you kill their babies, or throw their mentally disabled siblings onto a plane doomed to crash into a speeding train carrying the puppies of other formerly happy characters. It's become tiresome, really. In the past 11 years, your hospital has been shot up 3 times, seen 4 broken marriage proposals, 2 homicidal stabbings, 3 fatal car crashes, and the addition of John Leguizamo.
But I held on, ER! I suffered through the completely unnesseccary "Hasty African Surgeries" season, with Dr Croatian Guy as my only solace, only to have you reward him with (whiny insufferable, please comb your hair PLEASE) Abby, and reward the rest of us with NO CARTER.

BOOO.

AND THEN!? Abby gets PREGNANT? Wait..is that....why is there an anvil constantly over Abby's head now? Oh...is it because you will inevitably KILL HER? Season 1,096 ended with preggers Abby bleeding from the woman place, unconscious, with Dr Croatian Guy tied to a gurney, unable to speak because he was intibated, somewhat roughly, at the behest of his ex girlfriend/nurse's criminal ex-husband who brought the 3rd annual shot gun gallery to the lobby and shot JERRY, who was the only tolerable character left and....
......I can't possibly go on.
You, ER, are ridiculous. I tolerated Dr. Susan's quasi-romance with a dying 15 year old cancer patient. I sat before you, teeth gritted, when Sally from Third Rock From The Sun, appeared for 5 episodes for no discernable reason. I primly accepted Dr. Benditlikebeckham being shoved down my throat, though I didn't like it (I refuse to like her god dammit, she's as stiff as the botoxed forehead of Paula Abdul! I fucking refuse and I don't care how many times you kill her husband!). Most painful of all, I silently chewed my popcorn when, and I cannot capitalize this enough, A HELICOPTOR FELL ON A DOCTOR WHO HAD HIS ARM CHOPPED OFF BY A DIFFERENT HELICOPTER NOT 10 MONTHS BEFORE.

A DIFFERENT HELICOPTOR!

KILLED HIM!

But another dead baby? One is almost funny, but two?
Let's not be gauche.

I hope things continue to go as marginally well as they have, but I have to tell you: Dr McDreamy's got it all over George Clooney, and the world knows it. Your days, Lesbian-Arm-Chopping-Croatian-CrazyHaired Nurse-Havin-Desperate-"Celebrity"GuestStar Courtin-Show, are numbered.

Best of luck,
Rosa


P.S.- And if it's not too much trouble, give my number to Dr. Rockstar, could you?

As always, my general and passing interest in the pseudo hipster volume that is The New York Times Magazine has made me angry. Not angry at The NY Times, of course. Even though they will probably back Hillary Clinton (again) and cause me to cancel my subscription (again) because she is a quacking bleeding heart with a vengeance agenda against her cum-gushing husband and the city of New York in general as she lobbies to have truck yards built in residential neighborhoods to "reduce Manhattan traffic" and...

Wait...Not why I am angry..

Let me put it this way: If you found out the Milk companies of America where involved in a shadowy and deep rooted agenda to get you, your friends, your children, and everything you love to buy milk, at any cost, for the rest of your life; if it is revealed that Big Milk was putting cancer causing bacteria into the cows, not caring because this bacteria also caused the ultimate drinker to come back for more; if, suddenly, the Milk scandal ran so deep as to cause a multi-billion dollar class action suit in every state; IF MILK KILLED YOUR MOTHER, what would you do?
You'd start dipping your lady fingers in soy milk, thats what you'd fucking do.

Instead, Americans, in droves of idiot millions, continue to actually cut their own throats open and pour delicious, carcinogeous white death milk into their tracheotomy holes.

I trust the point is across.

Now, the fact that cigarette smoke kills you is, of course, the knowledge of a fool. But what most fools don't know is that, aside from Anna Nicole Smith backed glamour drugs like Trimspa, etc, ciggs are the only mass produced, readily available drug (shut your fool mouth, it is a drug.) NOT regulated by the FDA. If milk came straight from the cow's boob, brown and steaming with cow love, would you drink it? (I don't know man, I'm really liking the Milk analogy too much, yes?)

Even less known is the fact that, once the mid 90s Big Tobacco Attack died down, nearly half the states in the union were suddenly promised settlement money from Phillip Morris. "Wrongful death" statewide suits and all. And what truly, truly sucks about that is not that Philly More got the sandbags, but that now the states are greedy for that money, which rolls in every year, meaning they won't back bills or suits saying that the Coffin Nails we as a nation so love should be FDA regulated, because that means Marlboros get sold like heroin through a crack in the door at the kew motor Inn, and the states? They don't get their money anymore, and they wants flowers around city halls and zoos filled with famous pandas and to knock down that ol' cracked up Liberty Bell to make way for a new WalMart god dammit.

An old balding man says pasta sucks and suddenly the US of A at large is eating bunless burgers by the truckload.

A slightly younger balding man yells at a woman for spoiling her kids and his books sell trillions.

The company that makes your Virginia Slims says, in statements, under oath, and on the INTERNET (where everything is true) that cigarettes will kill the user. That they are addictive, ON PURPOSE. That they set out to get you from age 10. But still you go get your loosey*.

Still you pay ridiculous taxes.
Still you blacken from the inside out.

If Parmalat executives came to your house and raped you, would you eat dry cornflakes the next morning?




*loosey: from the Ghetto speak for a single cig from the a-rabs at the bodega.

Some of you more intelligent souls may hate me for it, but I love watching Britney "The Baby Bruiser" Spears ruin her fool life.

I, of course, am speaking of "Matt Lauer Made Me Cry: Mrs. Spears-Federline Edition."

I laughed. I laughed. God how I laughed. The general implosion of the career-slash-beauty of this obviously peroxided blonde in daisy dukes has me nothing less than positively riveted.
Jarring from the first second, it appeared the richest 23 year old on earth didn't brush her hair, wear anything remotely flattering, or even consult a mirror before being interviewed on THE MOST WATCHED NEWS MAGAZINE SHOW IN AMERICA. Does she not care? As if all that weren't enough: She preggers. So totally very impregnated with white trash sperm and cheetos dust. I implore you to find the trashiest looking girl on the block. Now, add a baby belly. That alone ups the garbage quotient by 400Àapproximately. Now put her in an embarrasingly tit baring top, leaning over, violently chewing gum, flapping her flip flop against her dangling heel. Sweet Virgin, I'm speechless over her!
I say nothing, but "!!!??" appears over my head.
This is not a pop-princess: This is a Target cashier in Boring, Kentucky on her smoke break, talking on her nextel two way with Joey-Bob, her brother-cousin, wondering whether daddy is gonna come home tonight with KFC, or will be blow the week's wages on Wild Turkey, shotgun rounds, and bats for beating fags, as he so often does.

Most are happy just to watch her cry (uglily, might I add), buy another USWeekly, and laugh again next time she throws her baby off an escalator, but I truly wonder: what made her this way??
Rich, pretty, vaguely talented, she is (was) the American Dream. Dating the male version of herself, things seems poised to go on in the same fashion for another 5 years or so. Alas, Justin somehow found an even dumber blonde to fuck, the prettiness fades every second, and the vague talent...well..it's vague.

She's alluded to the fact that her mother was somewhat over-protective, but I, for one, vote for MOLESTATION. Come on now, we never see her dad, never hear about extended family members, and Jamie-Lynn, The Sister-Clone, is safely holed away on her own Disney Channel show. Brit-Brit married early (let us not forget the 2001 52 hour Vegas nuptials), and then married early AGAIN, to what can only be described as a doomed human being with a goatee. I've read more than my fair share of memoirs, and anyone who marries and spawns so early was escaping less-than-wholesome family problems. Drunk daddies, drugged up mommies, touchy uncles, they all but shove a girl into the arms of an innapropriate man. Bruised babies and cut-off jeans simply come with the territory.

Perhaps, as a whole, America should be gentler with our former Queen? For a young lady doesn't slit the very wrists of her professional career just for a doomed human being with a goatee.

I imagine that some time in the 2010's, charms long gone, Mrs. Spears Federline Cruise Jolie-Pitt Terwilliger, finally alone, (save for her 6 kids) will, at long last, release the autobiography of the century, "Oops, I Dropped My Baby Again". A heartbreaking story of how she should've just NOT cheated on Justin Timberlake, NOT made a tv show about what a sex starved hooker she is, NOT starred in a movie that 3 people saw (John and Michael Hernandez, Tivoli Economu) and maybe, just maybe, spent her money on a publicist instead of 3,000 pairs of cowboy boots. I am convinced it is these things (especially the boots) that put her on the path to becoming un-kempt Mansion-Trash.

Also? Through the entire Dateline interview? She had a huge clump of mascara over her right eye.

Gentler with her? A mizundastood young girl? My ass, Matthew Lauer! Kelly Clarkson is WAY cooler than this bitch!

Britney Countdown to Career Death:
147 Days: 17 Hours: 58 Minutes: 24 seconds.