Dear Ricky:
You're a funny guy. Brilliant, in fact. But you know this. Your recent hosting gig at the Golden Globes ticked off some people. So what? Being offensive is your bread and butter. Why did you feel the need to do an interview with Piers Morgan to defend yourself? (Piers Morgan?) You said it would have been crap to have fawned over them. True. I'm sure the producers knew what they were getting. But why, then, did this enmity bother you?
I have a theory. I think you really want to be one of them. You got sick of being the "chubby funster." You dieted and worked out and posed in golden boxer shorts. But you've still got more in common with Karl Pilkington than with Johnny Depp or Brad Pitt. That makes you bitter. Humor tipped too far into hostility. The only reason I was offended by your Golden Globes stint is that your jokes weren't very funny.
And so, it is with the utmost respect that I deliver this message: watch your back. Or, more specifically, your middle. Since you've trimmed down, you've devoted more and more time in your stand up to making fun of fatties. It's so easy to do, isn't it? Yes, Ricky, everybody is good at telling fat jokes.
You'd better stay thin forever, by any means necessary. Starvation, tapeworm, methamphetamine: anything will do. Because the moment you gain an ounce, the entire planet will tear into you like starving, wormy, meth-addicted wolves. They will devour you. Having been around celebrity for this long, you should know this one simple truth:
Only Oprah can gain and lose a metric ton over and over--in spite of dietitians, chefs and personal trainers--and not suffer blow back. And she's wheeled a wagon full of fat onstage. But she's Oprah and you're not. You've been warned.
Sincerely,
K
P.S. Thanks to Tribal Blogs for giving me something to write today!
Labels: Golden Globe, humor, Karl Pilkington, kathcom, magick sandwich, Piers Morgan, Ricky Gervais, sarcasm
