An Open Letter To Justin Timberlake

Hey there JT,

How are you? Are things good? Are you really sleeping with Mila Kunis, or is that just tabloid fodder? Speaking of sleeping, are you getting your eight hours every night? These are the things I think about, Justin. I want you to be okay. I’ll even let you take a quick nap; I’ll still be here. We’ve got some things to talk about when you wake up.

Now, listen: we all love you on Saturday Night Live. Yeah, you can do the humor thing, cause you’ve got good comedic timing and you can dance and sing in really catchy parody songs. And I mean, you were okay in The Social Network. You were kind of a dick and I think you can do that well, playing a dick. I’m just a little concerned that you think all this means you can be some sort of legitimate actor. Romantic comedies, Justin? Do you remember that you were the biggest heartthrob in the world from 1998-2004? That No Strings Attached, that one CD where you were all marionette puppets (what a unique and interesting metaphor!!), sold a million copies in the first day it was released? I remember, Justin. This romantic comedy actor persona isn’t you. This isn’t our JT.

Besides, romantic comedies are for washed-up actors that are trying for one last desperate appeal to mainstream culture. They are begging for us to love them. And we wholeheartedly embrace you, bro. So stop this nonsense and just sing us a song that we either want to laugh to or make love to. Perhaps both, simultaneously. Don’t judge us. We jus’ wanna love ya, baby.


Rachel (a concerned and slightly neurotic enthusiast)


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