Letter to Donald Trump

Dear Donald Trump,

Celebrity hobbies are great. The Jolie-Pitts collect miniature humans. Oprah can’t stop starting girl schools in Africa. Al Gore spends every waking hour trying to be the Nelly of politics, convincing hot women like Leonardo DiCaprio that it’s getting Hot in Herre. And you enjoy making fun of big boned lesbians.

Your feud with Rosie O’Donnell reached a new low this week. After Rosie admitted that she suffers from depression, you said, “All she has to do is look in the mirror and she's going to suffer from depression”.

When I’m President, I intend to be a peace broker. So, I thought I'd warm up by fixing your relationship with Rosie. Rosie...is DT really a huge ass or is he just the fifth grader who is so uncomfortable around women that he borrows his dad's hairpiece and is mean to the girl he secretly loves? Don-Don...wake up bro...not liking lesbians is un-American. If you two would quit bickering for a minute, maybe you'd see that you really have a lot in common. You’re both rich, you both never really say anything, but say it loud, and most importantly you both appreciate nice rugs.

Thanks,
Matt H. Wonder

Letter to Patrick Swayze

Dear Patrick Swayze,

Tonight at the video store my two-year-old son grabbed my hand and pulled me in the direction of the video he wanted. The title? “Another Gay Movie”. Talking about the man on the cover, who was wearing nothing but a quiche, my boy said, “Brrr”. I was so disappointed…that you weren’t the object of his affection.

I picked him up and frantically ran around the store trying to find “Ghost”. I felt it was important to let him know that he hadn’t seen gay until he’d seen you doing pottery wearing nothing but a mullet. Your masterpiece of cinema was nowhere to be found, so I settled for “Road House 2”. But, you weren’t in it. What the hell?

Your turn as James Dalton (head bouncer of the Double Deuce club) brought in thousands of dollars. Why on earth did you turn the Road House franchise over to Jonathon Schaech? “Road House 2” could have been another “Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights”, but instead it went to straight to video.

I beg you not to make the same mistake with “Black Dog”, the greatest trucker movie of all time. Will there ever be a cast as great? You, Randy Travis and Meat Loaf in the same movie…incredible. Trying to do a sequel has proven impossible due to the salary requirements of your A-list co-stars. Craig and I would be glad to fill in at a reduced salary just to be near you. This idea might sound crazy, but remember, “Black Dog” distributor Universal greenlighted a shot-for-shot remake of "Psycho".

Thanks,
Matt H. Wonder

P. S. I just listened to your smash hit “She’s Like the Wind” and realized that it’s the perfect soundtrack for this letter if I sing it to you with slightly altered lyrics…

Feel his breath on my face
His body close to me
Can't look in his eyes
He's out of my league
Just a fool to believe I have anything he needs
He's like the wind

I look in the mirror and all I see
Is a young old man with only a dream
Am I just fooling myself
That he'll stop the pain
Living without him I'd go insane

Letter to Bobby Brown and Whitney Houston

Would America still have elected W if they had known he’d pick “Brownie” to head FEMA and nominate Harriet Miers as a Supreme Court Justice? Would Clinton have lost votes if we had been forewarned that he’d make Monica Lewinsky the Secretary of the Interior (of his pants)? I don’t think voters should cast a ballot for me without knowing the caliber of people that I’ll have in my cabinet. I hope to appoint Bobby Brown and Whitney Houston as my co-Secretaries of Family Values. I’ve written the letter below in hopes that they’ll help me make America a better place.

Dear Whitney Houston/Bobby Brown,

I never thought the day would come when Bobby would be singing “Mr. Telephone Man” about Whitney. If the marriage of the June and Ward Cleaver of R&B fails, what hope is there for the rest of us?

Searching for answers, I painstakingly researched your lives for five minutes on Wikipedia and was sickened by the way the liberal media has unfairly characterized Bobby as a drug-loving felon. I mean, come on, who hasn’t urinated on the car of a spouse’s ex? And if you settled out of court with the underage prostitute you raped, how is that news? Multiple arrests. Multiple positive tests for cocaine. Been there, done that. But, because the media chooses to shine its spotlight on you, these types of mundane events are seen as “criminal”.

All the negative attention Bobby received was understandably hard on Whitney. While the media shamelessly portrayed Bobby as a thug, Whitney stood by her man, selflessly putting her career on hold while supporting Bobby by taking interest in some of his hobbies, like smoking crack. Your life was a fairy tale, bringing Whitney’s hit “The Greatest Love of All” to life. I can’t remember the exact lyrics, but I think it went something like this, “No matter what they take from me they can't take away my dignity because the greatest love of all is illustrated by these pictures of my crack den”.

After all you’ve gone through together, it pains me that, after 14 years of marital bliss, you are letting the media break up your rock solid marriage. Now more than ever we need celebrity couples to make it so that we don’t lose our belief in the institution of marriage. As you probably know, I’m running for President. I hope I can give you the proper incentive to give it another go. If you two can smoke a peace pipe and get back together, I’d like to appoint you to the position of co-Secretaries of Family Values. The positions shouldn’t be too demanding and would count against the community service time Bobby needs to work off. If your recreational activities don’t allow you the time to put together curriculum to teach kids about the importance of marriage, just show them a few clips from the Desperate HouseMILFs of Wisteria Lane and America will be one step closer to reclaiming the family values on which our nation was built.

Thanks,
Matt H. Wonder

Letter to Paris Hilton

Dear Paris Hilton,

In September, after a long day of “work”, you were drinking “one margarita” at a charity event when you like totally realized that you hadn’t eaten anything all day. Knowing that millions of young girls with eating disorders look to you as their role model, you immediately hopped in your car and courageously drove towards In-N-Out burger. The importance of your mission should have warranted a presidential motorcade or at the very least a police escort. Instead the police had the nerve to escort you to jail. One minute, you’re drinking a margarita for charity and the next thing you know you’re charged with DUI. How is that fair?

Last month you plead no contest to the charges, were sentenced to probation and had your license suspended. Earlier this week, you were ticketed for driving on your suspended license. Understandably, you immediately called your lawyer to ask if your license had been suspended. How could you possibly be expected to remember that you weren’t allowed to drive? That sentence came down almost 5 weeks ago. If your probation is revoked, you’re looking at the possibility of a 90-day jail sentence.

Oh man would that be great. I can only hope that your sentence is delayed until after I become President. I'll preempt the crap that they normally show on C-Span and C-Span 2 with a live reality show about your stay in prison. On your show, “The Simple Life”, you lasted like 10 minutes when they made you work at Sonic. I’m sure you’ll do great picking up trash along the highway. Best of luck making friends in the big house.

Thanks,
Matt

Letter to Trimspa CEO Alex Goen

Dear Alex Goen,

In an interview following the death of your company’s spokesmodel, Anna Nicole Smith, you said, “Yeah I was pretty shocked and concerned.” Which would have been nice had you been talking about her unexpected passing, instead your shock and concern had to do with the presence of Slim Fast cans in Anna Nicole’s refrigerator. A life was lost, but you got caught up in the scandal of your spokesperson using a competitor’s product. You went on to talk about having already had plans to replace Anna Nicole with a “new face”.

I’m guessing it might be a little harder to find someone to take on that role given the way you swept Anna Nicole under the rug shortly after her death. If you find that to be true, count me in, bitch. I’m just as fat, dumb and lazy as Anna Nicole and would love to have the opportunity to help you continue to sucker fatties into believing that taking a pill is the key to weight loss rather than diet and exercise.

I’m running for President and would be glad to wear Trimspa logoed shirts and hot pants during my campaign. For the right price, I’ll modernize the Presidential Physical Fitness Test to allow kids to opt out one fitness test event for every Trimspa pill they agree to take. Getting ahead in the real world is all about cutting corners, not how many pull ups you can do. No company exemplifies that ideal like Trimspa. You are a hero and will be nominated for the Congressional Medal of Honor as soon as I take office.

Thanks,
Matt

Letter to Anna Nicole Smith

Dear Anna Nicole Smith,

Watching your career had been like watching a rose bloom. You were a remarkable woman. I can’t wait to see the tribute that Sir Elton John puts together for your funeral.

Your life was an inspiration. Having no more than an 8th grade education, you worked your way up from fast food worker, to stripper, to Playmate of the Year, to wife of a billionaire on his deathbed. Talk about the American dream.

I have attempted to model my career after you. I too worked in the fast food industry as a teenager, eventually working my way up to the guy who calls your name when your food is ready. You fell in love with a fry cook, married and had a baby while still in your teens. I too had a thing with a fry cook, although fortunately for me our relationship did not result in marriage, as he was a little man from Paraguay named Luccho. Our “thing” was that he’d call me “Mateo Van Halen” and I’d call him “Luccho Bon Jovi”. In a lot of ways he was a much more reliable buddy comedy partner than Craig.

I still hope to follow in your footsteps as a pole dancer and playmate, but Dr. 90210 won’t return my calls. If I’m going to take my clothes off for money, I really need to get a breast reduction that will still enable me to maintain that natural look. If I don’t hear back from him soon, I may have to skip right to the marry a billionaire phase, but that could prove to be difficult, because I’m not even sure Oprah likes dudes.

Anyway…just wanted to thank you for all you’ve done for me and wish you best of luck with your new VH1 show, “Last Sire Standing” (presented with limited commercial interruptions by “1-800-DNA TYPE”), where all your potential baby’s daddies move in with Flavor Flav. One by one contestants will be eliminated until the true father of your child is revealed. I’m rooting for Zsa Zsa Gabor’s husband.

Your candle burned out long before your legend ever did,
Matt

Letter to Miss USA Tara Conner

Dear Tara Conner,

Your recent behavior has included coke snorting (allegedly), Miss Teen USA kissing (allegedly), rock star sexing (allegedly) and underage drinking (admittedly)…which would have been great if you’d won a contest to be Tara Reid for a year. But, you’re Miss USA.

Young women should be looking up to you as the role model who personifies everything that they should aspire to be. Instead, young men are excited that you’re encouraging young women to be promiscuous bi-sexual drunks.

Miss USA owner Donald Trump met with you earlier this week with the intent of firing you for your inappropriate behavior, but instead said, “After speaking to her I saw not only a beautiful woman, but a beautiful heart”. My former company’s version of Donald Trump met with me with the intent of firing me for my inappropriate behavior, and did just that after finding no internal or external beauty.

I’m ashamed to admit that I’ve watched more than one episode of “The Apprentice” and as a result, I know that when Don-Don sours on someone, it’s over…they’re fired. So, I have to assume that to get back in his good graces, you sold your soul to the Donald. This was confirmed when you wouldn’t confess to being an alcoholic, but let Donald kindly admit to your alcohol addiction on your behalf.

You beautiful people have it made. Engaging in sex, drugs and rock-n-roll on the job earned you compliments from your boss and an all expense paid trip to the rehab resort of your choice. If community service is part of the Don’s plan for your life, I’d like you to consider becoming my mentor. I could certainly use some beauty tips and if I ever find an employer dumb enough to hire me back into the corporate world, I’ll need to learn how to get away with lewd behavior to ensure that I don’t repeat the cardinal sin I committed at my last job…trying to be funny.

Thanks,
Matt

Letter to Bob Barker

Dear Bob Barker,

You are an amazing human being. You’re 83 years old and will finally call it quits this spring after a 35 year run on “The Price is Right”. I think people get caught up in how many dinette sets you’ve given away and forget how much you’ve done for national security. While our government has crafted an ingenious plan to build a border fence to control our illegal immigrant population, nothing is being done to fill the void that will be left when you stop reminding Americans to help control the pet population. It’s as though our government plans to just cross its fingers and hope that Howie Mandel starts telling people to spay and neuter their pets. I hope and pray that you are able to find a worthy successor before domesticated animals take over our country.

Just because you need someone to take over your day-to-day campaign against animal ovaries, that doesn’t mean you’ll cease to make a difference. In fact, you recently pledged $300,000 so that an elephant could move from the harsh conditions of the LA Zoo and into an animal sanctuary. The zoo received a lot of negative publicity this summer when animal activists were up in arms over the tragic death of a 45-year-old elephant. I remember reading the obituary and learning that the average life expectancy of an elephant is 42 years. That’s right…conditions at the zoo are so bad that they actually added three years to the life of a fat, dumb animal.

I’m writing today to see if you’d be willing to pledge $300,000 to put another fat dumb, animal into retirement. Sponsoring me would do a lot to silence your critics who unfairly ask, “What do you have against humans?” Sure, $300k would have gone a long way to help families in need this holiday season, but at least one geriatric elephant gets to spend his golden years in an overpriced retirement villa. With your help, I’d like to join him.

Thanks,
Matt

Letter to Pamela Anderson

Dear Pamela Anderson,

While part of me was sad to hear that you are no longer Mrs. Kid Rock, another part of me was happy, because I really need a sugar mommy who is willing to let me suckle from her metaphorical (and surgically enhanced) charity teets. But, before you start sending alimony checks, let me explain why I think our marriage could work.

We have a lot in common. We’re both top heavy. Your art film, “Barb Wire”, earned you a worst actress nomination from the Razzies. My art film, “You’re an Eight”, earned me a worst accountant nomination from my former employer. You believe that People should Ethically Treat Animals. I hardly ever kick the neighbor’s cat when she tries to pee in my kid’s sandbox.
I could literally go on forever. But, long lasting marriages aren’t just about commonalities; they’re also about working through differences. Kid Rock had the nerve to wait until after you were married to tell you that he liked to shoot deer and didn’t like Borat. I don’t blame you for filing for divorce. That’s about as irreconcilable as it gets.

The important thing is for me to learn from Kid’s mistakes. I’d like to be up front with you about our minor differences. I’m bottom heavy. You’re a vegetarian. I enjoy barbequed meats. You’re a sexy divorcee. I’m a fat, balding married guy. Nothing we can’t work through, but I thought it was important to be truthful upfront.

Despite our differences, I am committed to our relationship as long as you continue to send me support checks. And who knows, if things go well, I may be able to fulfill my boyhood dream of contracting Hepatitis C.

Thanks,
Matt

Letter to Denise Richards

Dear Denise Richards,

You are a whole lot of woman. I’m a whole lot of man. You’ve acted in dozens of movies and TV shows and have millions of dollars to show for it. I starred in one video and not only did the project lose money, it also cost me my job. Our acting talent is pretty similar, so what makes our results so different? I’ve studied your work closely and I think I’ve figured it out. It’s bravery.

Last week while you were filming “Blonde and Blonder” (co-starring the equally talented Pamela Anderson), two members of the press stormed the set without permission. Some megastars would have let security handle such an issue, but you sprung into action like your “The World is Not Enough” co-star, Remington Steele. You grabbed not one, but two paparazzi laptops and flung them off the hotel balcony. Were it not for your quick thinking, not one, but two elderly women wouldn’t have been hit by those laptops while sitting in the hotel lobby.

Who cares about the health of two ladies who are probably about to die anyway? You knew it was more important to neutralize the paparazzi so that you and Pamela could continue your pursuit of your first Academy Awards. You’re smarter than you look. You might find this hard to believe, but I assure you I’m dumber than I look. How dumb am I? Craig gave me a floral Speedo as a parting gift when he quit the band. I planned to do a photo shoot with me wearing the Speedo to promote the website. But, you’ve helped me realize I’d be making a mistake if I did the shots alone. I’ve decided to purchase a matching Speedo for you and would love it if you would join me on location for the shoot. There’s bound to be paparazzi swarming around my Speedo and me and I’d like you to serve as my security detail.

Thanks,
Matt

Letter to Axl Rose

Dear Axl Rose,

Your new and confused version of Guns n Roses recently cancelled a show in Maine when the local authorities informed you that you would not be allowed to drink on stage. What a freaking crock. I’m so tired of The Man telling victims like you and me what to do.

Your band spokesperson said that the fire marshals made it “impossible for the band to perform their show to the usual high standards that their fans deserve.” Everyone with a brain knows that drinking is crucial to high work standards. Back when I used to work, I never understood how I was supposed to solve complex accounting riddles without Jack Daniels’ help.

You continued to promote drinking in the workplace with this statement on your website, “I agree with, and ultimately take responsibility for, the end decision not to jeopardize the safety of the fans, the crews, the bands and myself as a result of the methods of these particularly draconian authorities” (the fire marshals). Canceling the show was such a brave step. You care enough for your fans to not put them at risk by making them listen to you do a show sober.
You’ve helped me realize that I’ve been screwing my fans by writing many of my blog entries without the assistance of alcohol. That stops today. I’m going to buy a Breathalyzer machine to ensure that I’m well over the legal limit before I write any future posts.

Thanks,
Matt

P.S. I think my website would sell a lot more copies if GNR did the soundtrack. Let’s set up some studio time for you to lay down some random, unintelligible tracks. I can’t pay in actual money, but if you bring your “talent”, I’ll make sure you and your boys don’t go thirsty.

Letter to Britney Spears

Dear Britney Spears,

Partners are so overrated. You recently filed for divorce from K-Fed. Craig recently broke up with me. I understand your pain/really need someone to support my comedy habit. But, before you make me your next deadbeat husband, please allow me to point out how much we have in common.

I grew up in Kentwood, Michigan. You grew up in Kentwood, Louisiana, where you met Jason Alexander, who would later become your first husband. Drunkenly stumbling down the aisle together in Vegas wasn’t exactly a fairy tale Prince Charles and Lady Diana-esque affair, but who could have predicted that your blessed union would only last 55 hours? The press made fun of you, but I understand how you felt. I too had a relationship that lasted two days…in fifth grade. There was this girl in my class named Mary Whynott. All the boys would ask her, “Mary, will you marry me?” and when she said “no”, we’d say “Why not?” It was hilarious, until one day I asked her if she’d marry me and she said “yes”. Our brief engagement ended when she ran out of Valentine’s candy.

But, our similarities don’t stop there. You just had another baby; I look like I’m pregnant. You dress provocatively and have open mouth kissed Madonna. People open their mouths all the time when I show too much skin.

If you’re still not convinced that we’re perfect for each other, let me be clear that I’d be willing to give as well as take. Your parenting skills have been scrutinized. I have two kids of my own. I’d be glad to teach you how to buckle a car seat and safely carry your kids without dropping them on their heads.

I won’t even ask you to commit to a relationship without meeting me first. What do you say? Let’s go to Vegas, tie one on and then tie the knot.

Thanks,
Matt

P.S. I really think this could work. So much so that I’m willing to not sign a prenuptial agreement.

Speak no Huevo, Hear no Huevo

Dear National Association of the Deaf,

Recently I lamented the fact that there is not a male version of the National Organization for Women. I joked about a National Association for Dudes, never imagining that a group would actually use the initials NAD. Just because you can’t hear, doesn’t mean you’re dumb. Why wouldn’t you rearrange your initials so that they didn’t spell a slang term for testicle?

Your ignorance reminded me of an article I read years ago in Sports Illustrated. It was about Mexican born Eurubiel Durazo, who was passed over by many scouts, but had a solid rookie season. The author said that scouts who ignored Durazo have “huevos on their faces”. He was trying to imply that scouts were embarrassed, but he should have checked with someone who actually knew Spanish rather than relying on his Spanish/English dictionary’s definition of “huevos”. It literally means “eggs”, but is slang for “testicles”.

Wow, that really wasn’t where I was going when I first decided to write to you. I should really put this entry over on Craig’s blog because he’s the wonder most likely to get distracted by testicles.

I have a much more serious reason for this letter. I recently lost my job and really need your help increasing the traffic on my website. I need to sexify my blog, making it easier on the eyes. I’m picturing each blog entry becoming a video with a hot deaf girl signing the words as they scroll down the screen closed captioning style. If she can read the blog in Spanish while signing that would be ideal. As far as you know, I have no experience renting hot Spanish speaking deaf girls by the hour. Do you have a catalogue or some type of brochure that details your rates?

Thanks,
Matt

P.S. If this works out, please make sure to send a female. Craig has been lurking around 2HW again and I’m a little worried that if a hot deaf Mexican dude joined the staff, someone would end up with huevos on their face.

Letter to Ricky Williams

Dear Ricky Williams,

Remember that time you won the Heisman Trophy? Sorry that wasn’t a fair question. It was eight years and thousands of brain cells ago. But, take my word for it. You were the best college football player in 1998.

After college, you signed with Master P’s “No Limit Sports” agency, even though No Limit had never negotiated an NFL contract, let alone the contract of the #5 overall pick. The deal was so bad that you ended up making about $50 million dollars less than the #4 pick.

Most people would be a mess if one little signature cost them $50 million, but you’re doing great. You’re still playing football. Sure, it’s the Canadian Football League, but at least the drug tests are less frequent than in the NFL. In 2004 you did so well on NFL drug tests that you were encouraged to take a one-year leave of absence. You maximized your time off by enrolling in college. Several weeks later you were an expert in the ancient Indian art of holistic medicine. Along the way, you’ve done what many men only dream of…fathering five kids…with five baby’s mommas. And to top it all off, you’re a vegetarian and a certified yoga instructor.

One day, I hope to have a resume with half as many accomplishments. For now, I’m having trouble finding an agent willing to represent an Accountant who specializes in urinal code comedy writing. But, who better to rep me than Master P? Maybe R. Kelly, but I’ll take my chances with the agency that made you the man you are today. I was hoping that you could set up a meet and greet with No Limit and me, where we could pass the dutchie and plot out a strategy to ruin my life.

Thanks,
Matt

Letter to David Caruso

Dear David Caruso,

You are amazing. Your bio says you’re 50, but your face looks as weathered as Bea Arthur’s. Your acting is brutally unrealistic. You over-dramatize every line of dialogue while looking downward or off in the distance. You’re constantly taking your sunglasses off and putting them back on…whether you’re inside or out. You open every scene standing at a weird angle with your hands on your hips.

You left NYPD Blue after one season when you incorrectly assumed that you were the hottest dude on the planet. Your film career tanked and yet here you are back in the spotlight…a bona fide international star. Your 100th episode just aired and CSI: Miami is the number one show in the world. How is that possible?

If CBS really thought you were the Sexiest Man Alive, they would not have put your little spin-off show on opposite Monday Night Football. To me, giving you a Monday night slot, was your network’s way of saying that you are, at best, the heir apparent to Dick Van Dyke’s “Diagnosis Murder” audience. CBS execs realize they won’t draw men away from MNF, and instead were looking for someone who could draw in old ladies. So they sent your pasty skinned red head to the city where old women go to die.

But, “Murder She Wrote with Better Technology” unexpectedly has drawn a worldwide audience…which is exactly what I’m trying to do with this blog. You’ve made me realize that I’ve wasted too much time writing about work and/or going Hollywood. All I need to do is talk about you. Effective immediately, I’m going to abandon all other categories in this blog and create the world’s greatest (and only) CSI: Miami blog.

Thanks,
Matt

Letter to Tom Cruise

Dear Tom Cruise,

When did it all go so horribly wrong?

Everyone used to love the fun loving, non-controversial, fighter pilot, lawyer, bartender, pimp, boxer, vampire, high school football star, pool hustler, Vietnam War vet, large animal vet, race care driver Tom. You may not have won any Oscars, but you should have…if only the Academy considered characters played off-screen. Throughout your glory years, you brilliantly played the heterosexual All-American movie star in public.

But then, inexplicably, you broke character. You stopped reading from the scripts your PR team created and started speaking for yourself. Whoops! When you took off the shiny wrapper no one liked what was underneath. It was like finding out who’s really behind the curtain in the Wizard of Oz, a pathetic fraction of the man you thought you’d see.

You began your freefall off the sanity wagon by picking a fight with Matt Lauer about his lack of understanding of the history of psychiatry. You jumped all over Oprah’s nice furniture and declared your crazy love for 17 year-old Katie Holmes. You used Katie to attempt to prove that you could father a child, but wouldn’t let her talk during childbirth. You became such an expert on motherhood that you felt obligated to criticize Brooke Shields for taking medication for postpartum depression.

Your conduct not only cost your production company its deal with Paramount Pictures, but also earned you public criticism from the big boss, Viacom CEO Sumner Redstone. Next thing you know, you’re 35% public approval rating was lower than that of President Bush.

So, you panicked and let your PR team write you an apology to Brooke Shields. After the photo-op, Brooke publicly read from the script, “He…gave me a heartfelt apology. I was so impressed with how heartfelt he was.” Repairing your image with drug using mothers was that simple.
It kind of reminded me of your PR team’s attempts to shape public perception of you, Katie, and Suri. Not many people got to see little baby Suri (probably because newly published photos make the baby appear to be Asian) but those who did had very similar impressions that were somehow leaked to the press.

Leah Remini said, “She looks like Tom and Katie” and “Cruise and Holmes are just great parents. There wasn’t a second she was out of their arms except when I held her.” Compare those to Vanity Fair editor Jane Sarkin’s comments, “The baby is really a combination (of Tom and Katie). They are extremely hands on (parents)”.

When people leave your compound their eyes are glossed over and they all end up piling the same type of praise on you and your family. It’s like you’re a second rate magician/hypnotist who forgot to snap his fingers and wake them up at the end of the show. They say whatever you’ve programmed them to say.

That is awesome!

Please tell me how you do your trick. I need people to want to view me a lot and after viewing me, in a monotone voice say, “Matt is a Wonder with a beautiful moustache. He is not an Accountant. He is the voice of his generation. I have no idea why he is not on the Hollywood A-List”.

When we get together to talk about brainwashing my fans, I’d like to discuss “Mission Impossible 4″. It looks like it will not happen, unless the budget is drastically cut. You might have to do your own stunts. I don’t have any experience as a stunt coordinator, but I’d be happy to volunteer to pack your parachute.

Thanks,
Matt from 2HW

P.S. I just got the results back from 1-800-DNA-TYPE. I am the real father of Suri.

Letter to Mel Gibson

Dear Mel Gibson,

Cheer up. You made a mistake. Mistakes happen. It’s not like Hollywood is run by Jews. I’m sure you’ll find work. Did Richard Gere’s career end after his affair with that gerbil? No, he’s continued to make terrible movies. You should be all set as long as Danny Glover isn’t Jewish.
Here’s some free advice…

First of all, during a night of binge drinking, say “no” to tourists who ask if they can take your picture. Say “yes” when they offer to drive you home.

You compounded the problem by using the politically incorrect term “Sugar Tits” when referring to one of the female arresting officers. Next time, you’re better off using the more appropriate “Sweet Tits” or “Sugar Titted American”.

Finally, you uttered the words that forever endeared you to the Jewish community, “Effing Jews…the Jews are responsible for all the wars in the world”. “All” is too strong of a word. In the future try to avoid sweeping generalizations and instead say “almost all” or “most”.

On the bright side, a lot of good has come from your comments. You will never have to work with Rob Schneider…and Patrick Swayze called you a “wonderful human being”.

But, there is still a lot of work that needs to be done to repair your image. We’re here for you Mel. We understand your pain. 2HW is in a similar crisis. In the pilot episode of the Two Hit Wonder show, Craig uses a term that was deemed “inappropriate” by his wife and all other females. Craig, in trying to promote the Two Hit Wonder thong says, “They want our faces on their vaginas.” Alienating half of our potential audience was not something that we wanted to do.

We need to make amends. You need to make amends. Let’s get together and have a pancake breakfast to raise money for underprivileged Jews and Vaginas. We’ll call it the “First Annual Mel Gibson/2HW Pigs in a Blanket Breakfast”. Craig became an ordained minister online and for an extra $9.99 he can upgrade to Rabbi as well. Craig may not be a jew yet, but he’s Jew-ish. It would be a great photo opp for both of us. You’d be pictured with a fake Jew, and we’d be pictured with Hollywood’s biggest p*ssy.

Thanks,
Matt

Letter to Brokeback Mountain Author Annie Proulx

Dear Annie Proulx,

Ten years ago you attended a Village People concert. Soon afterwards, you wrote an “original” short story about two gay cowboys. Two talented writers transformed your pamphlet into a screenplay. The director of “the Incredible Hulk” agreed to put his unique perspective on the film. And finally, two Hollywood hunks agreed to kiss each other on the lips. By the time “Brokeback Mountain” actually hit theaters you were only distantly tied to the project…call it the Six Degrees of Ledger’s Bacon.

And yet, you fired off a nasty memo blasting the Academy for giving the best picture award to “Trash” instead of “your” Backdoor Mounthim. You compared the Academy Awards to a small-town talent show. You claimed that the voters were “out of touch”. You encouraged your reader to skip next year’s Academy Awards. We applaud you. You are so brave. You get it. When you don’t win, the easy thing to do is to be gracious in defeat. It takes 1960s gay cowboyesque courage to give an anti-acceptance speech with the tone of a 7th grader who didn’t make the cheerleading squad.

We wrote a short story too. It’s about two gay, racist poets moonlighting as investigative journalists who uncover Andrew McCarthy’s plot to kill the 1980 Russian Olympic Hockey team. We plan to get wildly talented famous people to write, direct and star in this lighthearted buddy comedy, which is sure to be next year’s awards circuit darling. We’d be honored if you’d be our red carpet escort. You sound like a ton of fun and this could be your big chance to be attached to a winner.

Insincerely,
Matt

Letter to "Brittany Spears Giving Birth" Sculptor Daniel Edwards

Dear Daniel Edwards,

You are a freaking genius. Anybody could have done a sculpture of Britney Spears giving birth in the typical manner. It took your gifted artistic mind to put her naked, on all fours, on a bearskin rug. Not since Spinal Tap’s “Smell the Glove” album cover has there been a piece of art so refreshingly vulnerable.

It’s hard to piss off both the Pro Life and Pro Choice movements, but putting “Pro Life” in the title of your sculpture was ingenious. Ms. Spears is not exactly the dream spokesmodel for the Pro Lifers, and Pro Choicers no doubt would have preferred that any Kevin Federline offspring be aborted.

I’m writing to ask you to do a statue of Craig and me giving birth to Two Hit Wonder dot com. Naked is a great look for us, and we were in fact nude when we came up with the 2HW concept. Much of our humor is said to come out of our asses, so feel free to work that in there somewhere. We look forward to working with you.

Thanks,
Matt on behalf of 2HW

Letter to Extreme Makeover Home Edition

Dear Extreme Makeover Home Edition,

I love to go behind the scenes of hit TV shows to see what makes them tick. That’s why I was so touched that you submitted a private, interoffice memo to the Smoking Gun website detailing the type of horrifying afflictions it will take to become a contestant on your show for the 2006-2007 season. To sum up the article, they are looking for…

· Extraordinary mom/dad recently diagnosed with ALS
· Family who has child with PROGERIA (aka “little old man disease”)
· Chronic Insensitivity to Pain with Anhidrosis (CIPA) There are 17 known cases in the US-let me know if one is in your town! This is where kids cannot feel any physical pain.
· Muscular Dystrophy Child – Amazing kid who is changing people’s view about MD
· MADD / Drunk Drivng – Family turns tragedy into triumph after losing a child to drunk driving
· Family who has multiple children with Down Syndrome
· Amazing/loved Mom or Dad diagnosed with melanoma/skin cancer.
· Home Invasion – family robbed, house messed up (vandalized) – kids fear safety in their own home now.
· Victims of hate crime in own home. Family’s house victim of arson or severely vandalized.

The competitors on American Idol have gotten better each year, but the EMHE contestants had really leveled out. I mean, come on, how many times were we going to see you help a disabled war hero or a family that lost their primary breadwinner? It’s good to see that you’ve progressed from helping people suffering from “bad asthma” or “one bedroom too few” to people with conditions that will draw a larger TV viewing audience.

Would an ordinary mom/dad recently diagnosed with ALS make your cut in 2006? Not a chance. The new and improved Extreme Home Makeover Idol requires parents to not only have ALS, but they also need to be “extraordinary”.

And thanks for the dignity with which you handled the horrible sounding disease, PROGERIA. I’m sure calling it “little old man disease” brought a big smile to Emmanuel Lewis’s face.
You’ve turned the difficult task of casting your contestants into a fun scavenger hunt for extremely rare maladies. There are only 17 kids with CIPA in the USA!!! Find one of them and they could win some great new appliances from Sears!!! Do you know a kid with Muscular Dystrophy? Can he juggle?

In a prior season, you helped a family whose house was torn up when a drunk driver drove through their living room. Thankfully, the mom was able to get the baby out of the way just in time. Next season, that won’t be good enough. According to your memo that scenario now requires a fatality in order to make it on air.

I have a friend with skin cancer. But, she’s neither amazing nor loved so no new home for her. Too bad she couldn’t have been diagnosed in 2003.

You are well on your way to helping America see ABC as the network that cares enough about their advertisers that they will do whatever it takes to beat “the Simpsons” in the ratings. While I applaud the direction you’re headed, it would be nice if you added a toll free line where viewers could vote off the least deserving potential home makeover candidates. Ordinarily, families “suffering” from a home invasion wouldn’t stand a chance against some of the other categories, but if America was deciding, perhaps a home-invaded family with a hot nanny or pool boy could have a chance.

Craig and I have a dream to entertain America, but because we both suffer from working crappy jobs in Corporate America, we don’t have the time or energy to realize our dream. We also have trouble walking up a single flight of stairs without getting winded. Please build us a house (with an elevator).

Thanks,
Matt