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Baby Bump

Dear Beyonce,

I am so happy for you. Ever since I heard the big news about your baby bump, I can hardly contain myself. I was so angry that I missed the VMAs, so boy was I relieved when it turned out that I could find pictures of your baby bump on CNN! You look so happy in those pictures. Not just happy for yourself, but happy for all of us. That’s why I’m such a fan, really: because you realize how special you are, and how much your baby bump means to all of us. I saw that picture, and I thought “I know exactly what Beyonce is thinking right now. She’s thinking ‘I am a sassy, confident woman. And I can get pregnant, too! I’m going to inspire all of the ladies out there to try to be just like me, Beyonce!’” You go girl!

You know, I think I’m like a lot of people. I read all of the celebrity magazines, I watch Access Hollywood, The Insider, all of those shows. It’s really nice to see a celebrity who is so giving for once. I’ve had enough of Charlie Sheen, if you catch my drift! Man, I wish I could come to your baby shower. I’ll bet there will be a lot of celebrities there, and I’ll bet it won’t be too trashy, like a Kardashian baby shower. I don’t approve of those girls, or the way they prance around half naked all of the time. Your outfits are always classy and sexy. I really wish I had a body like yours. Maybe you can put out a mommy workout tape, I will totally buy it! I mean, I’m a dude, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a workout video. Actually, it would also be pretty weird if I had a body like yours. It would be really weird. It would probably be awesome for an hour or so, like, right when I got the body. Would I get your face, too, or just the body? Would it be like a total body swap? I’ll think about it.

I’d also just like to let, wait, what? Me? No, I’m not drunk. What? No you don’t. You don’t smell anything, Beyonce. Don't start this. Maybe you’re drunk. Oh my God, and you’re pregnant. What is wrong with you? You’re just like those other celebrities after all. What? You don’t want to…we’re not arguing. YOU stop yelling. I’m not arguing with you, Beyonce. No, you’ll know when I’m arguing, I can get nasty. I’m NOT nasty now, because I’m not drunk like you are. Did you ever think of that? We’re fighting because you’re drunk, and I’m ashamed of you. Don't make this about me. You know what? You know what? You only have, like, two songs that anyone even really knows, Beyonce. And one of them is like 9 years old now, and the other one is only famous from its video. You’re a fraud. Where are you going?

Me? ME? I’m not sorry, why would I be…? Oh, because you’re crying? Ha, nice try. Get a hold of yourself. No, YOU have a problem. No, listen. LISTEN. I’m done with this. I’m done. Because we’re arguing because of you. What? Oh, I’m being insensitive? Right, right. I’m the one throwing accusations around. Why are you always trying inventing my weaknesses for your argument working to be right? You try to invent me all for a wrong look. Like Spiderman being in Iraq, but there were never bombs, Beyonce. It was a circus tent sale, that thing, just like this is. Huh? This argument, right now. What? That makes perfect sense…you are so drunk. I can’t even talk to you. You can’t even understand what I’m saying. It’s called an analogy.

I can’t take this anymore. Oh, I will leave. No, you know what? You leave. Bye. BYE.



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