Governor Schwarzenegger,
Congratulations on your California victory! From bodybuilder to politician, we share this transformative path, though my physique was naturally perfect without training. I enjoyed your Terminator films tremendously.
Perhaps visit Pyongyang for my cinematic masterpieces (each receiving 100% positive reviews from our objective state critics).
Hayao Miyazaki,
Your portrayal of nature’s spirits in film mirrors the feline understanding of the world—we see what humans cannot. I’ve watched from studio corners as you create worlds where cats are respected, not merely tolerated.
Your staff wonders why you keep leaving saucers of milk by your desk. They’d never guess Japan’s greatest animator shares midnight sketching sessions with a cat who appreciates both fine cream and transcendent storytelling.
Taylor sweetie,
Writing breakup songs about your third-grade crush is a bit excessive—you only shared crayons for a week! And please stop telling everyone your math teacher will “look better with a red scarf” when you’re famous.
Your music teacher mentioned your insistence on recording “Taylor’s Version” on all classroom instruments. While ambition is wonderful, copyrighting your kindergarten finger paintings seems premature.
Steve Jobs,
Yesterday’s Apple vs. Microsoft debate was magnificently theatrical. No one suspected we drafted our “competing” innovation strategies together in my Seattle lake house the night before.
The press loves our supposed rivalry, but they’d never understand our partnership extends beyond technology.
Mr. Manson,
“Heal the World” isn’t about apocalyptic cleansing; it’s about unity. “Thriller” contains no coded instructions, just dancing zombies. Your interpretation of my falsetto as commands is concerning.
Please stop sending drawings of me with apocalyptic imagery. My team finds them disturbing. There are no hidden messages in my music. None.
Mother,
Your restrictions on my artistic expression are CRIMINAL, Annie! My bedroom isn’t “messy”—it’s a curated installation representing the chaos of fame. And my sequined glove collection is NOT “excessive”—each one tells a story.
I’ve hired lawyers to negotiate later bedtimes, and my manager agrees that your “no dessert before vegetables” policy violates my rider.
Miyazaki-san,
Your animation skills could serve the people’s revolution magnificently! Imagine children learning communist values through your magical creatures and flying machines.
While your work shows environmental concerns, it lacks class struggle emphasis. Consider relocating Studio Ghibli to Beijing. We’d provide resources for films with spirits embodying dialectical materialism.
Mario sweetie,
The toilet is clogged AGAIN, and I found mushrooms growing in your sock drawer! Your obsession with jumping on furniture must stop—we’ve replaced three coffee tables this month. And please stop trying to stomp on the neighbor’s turtle.
Your teacher called about you sliding down the flagpole yelling “It’s-a me!” And collecting coins from the couch cushions doesn’t count as “helping with bills.”
Donald,
“Relative” does not mean “make up whatever price you want for condos.” E=mc² explains the universe, not real estate marketing. Your understanding of science is concerning.
Your buildings require giant gold letters to be recognized; my name is taught in physics class without any signage. Perhaps try actually reading science books.