Dear Auntie Binks...I Have a Problem
It is a little-known fact that for many years I had a little disguised role as "Agony Aunt" to the stars...
I knew about Zinedine Zidane's anger issues before the World Cup Final. I knew A-Rod was fond of "bettering" himself; and I knew that Michael Jackson was, errrr, young at heart shall we say.
Obviously, my oath forbids me from revealing the troubles of my clients, but now as I don't believe in anything anymore, I will delve into my archives to reveal the problems of the stars...
My first letter comes from an intriguing young man called Jeff...
Dear Auntie Binks,
My name is Jeff and I have a problem. Well, actually I have lots of issues, but I think it's the one main thing that it comes down to, you know?
The thing is, nobody "gets me," you know? They don't see I'm just a free spirit, man. I need to be free, man; I need to be like an eagle; I need to fly, you know?
I'm like a god-damn enigma. Am I here? Am I there? I don't even know myself anymore because I'm so charismatic, my aura is beyond boundaries, you know?
It all started when I was a kid. My parents never understood me. One year at Christmas, I asked my dad for a $600 skateboard. The son of a bitch went and got me a $500 one. I mean, does he not know me at all? Why did he try and ruin my life?
I got him back though, I dyed my hair, pierced my kneecap and stayed in my room all night listening to Slipknot records, whilst trying to scratch my wrists with a yale key.
If he doesn't understand me then I will subject him to this misery every night, you know?
My brother is the same. He is in the same business as me. He works hard, stays clean and puts his all into his job and life.
I mean, who the hell does he thinks he is? Doesn't he know that by being professional, he is making me look bad? Just because I want to throw my career away by overdosing on Ketamine! What's wrong with that?! I'm a rainbow, you know? You can't shackle me with your rules, man.
I really hope you understand me, Auntie Binks. No one else does. They all just tell me to stop wasting my life by being a jackass.
Please, what can I do?
Jeff "The eco-warrior, charismatic, rainbow coloured, enigmatic, charismatic, rainbow fish" Hardy...
Hmmm, this sure is a tricky one. There are many things I would think to recommend to you. Counseling and suicide being the first two that come to mind.
Instead, I think I will tell it to you straight.
Basically, and please take offence from this. You need to stop being such a whining, complaining, emo son of a bitch.
You need to turn off your My Chemical Romance CD. You need to stop pretending to be a vampire. You need to grow the fuck up and accept that yes, whilst you are in the entertainment business, it is still a job and you can't keep acting like a morbid baby every time you feel a little "sleepy."
You're charismatic, you're an enigma? What the fuck are you talking about?
You are a human being with a job. Get on and do it. Nobody really gives a shit about you. They just feel let down when, yet again, you have to take a forced break because you took some "bad M&M's" at your local crack den.
I recommend having somebody beat your dopey head in with a telephone book for two hours until you finally grow up and stop acting like the kid at school that everybody knew was going to turn into a serial killer.
Take care, my love....
Next week, we have a lovely letter from a "Grandpa Ric" and a rather angry letter from "Big Dave."
Until next dear readers. Take care of yourselves, because everybody else thinks you're a tosser.
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