An Open Letter To Paul McCartney's Ex-Wife
Dear Heather Mills,
I saw your interview this morning on the Today show, and since you seem to be stuck in some kind of spinning void where logic doesn't exist, I thought I would help you figure a few things out.
First off, no one in America knows who you are. Sorry, but it's true. I realize the bright lights that bounced off the sequins in the seams of Mario Lopez's pants might still be in your eyes, but just because you were on Dancing With The Stars in this country doesn't mean anyone here has any idea who you are. (I also know you from that freak joke on Curb Your Enthusiasm, but I am pretty savvy, and most people here don't have HBO.)
So when the average American Today show viewer saw your interview this morning, their train of thought probably went something like, "That one-legged lady from the dancing show sure is mad about something. This is confusing. When's the doggie fashion show gonna come on? Where's my peanut butter?" What I'm saying is: unless we know you, or it's about adorable animals/babies, most people don't care. So maybe a morning program in a country where people are only marginally aware (if at all) or your existence isn't the best place to make a point about something.
Secondly, if you want to make a point about something, you should probably have a point. As far as I could tell, you didn't really have one besides crazily asserting, "I'm not crazy." (Here's a tip for the future: the more you try to prove you're not crazy, the crazier you seem. Weird, but true. See: every movie about conspiracies ever made.)
I'm guessing your main objective in going on the Today show was to complain that the press won't leave you alone. That complaint would seem a little more valid if a. you weren't giving an interview to the press, b. you hadn't been on the number one show for people seeking publicity, Dancing With The Stars, and c. the American press wasn't already pretty much leaving you alone. It's not opposite day, Heather. If you want to be left alone, you don't have to go and find as many TV cameras as possible.
Still, I did like the part where you shouted, "I fell in love with a man, not a Beatle!" I've heard people claim colorblind love before, but never Beatle-blind love. I think you may have come up with the new "Don't tase me, bro!" Congrats!