Owen Wilson We Hardly Knew Ye

Owen Wilson, this is a little late, but what the hell happened? You're cute, funny. Although sometimes your nose at certain angles scares me. It looks like the tip is going to fall off. Sometimes it distracts me when I'm laughing. I didn't see your last film, "You, Me, and Dupree". It didn't look like it was so good. But in the promo's you looked like you were trying your darnest to be - cute, funny. I liked the "Wedding Crashers" though.

Well Ms. P has a theory about what happened. And remember she is always right if not right right now. Then she'll be right later. You were just damned bored. I mean in between movies, what in the hell do you have to do with yourself all day? The average American vacation is less than two weeks. How many months, years do you have before you shoot a picture? How many years was it between "Shanghai Noon" and "Shanghai Knights"?

What? You sleep to 3:00 p.m. Get up, wash your butt, dress, then call up some buds? Hang out a little? Get to drinkin' and boozin'. Stay out until breakfast? Then pass out? Sleep 'till 3? That's gotta suck. At some point you have to realize that what you do in the end doesn't mean diddly squat. That's gotta suck too. Making a movie. Big deal. While its everyone's dream to be a movie star, those in the know, know it ain't brain surgery (Sir Anthony Hopins knows he's not curing cancer and he's a great actor). You're not saving lives, or building a roof over someone's head, or locking up the bad guys, pumping out someone's flooded basement, or teaching someone's kid their ABCs. You're an adult dressing up in costumes pretending to be someone else, until you don't know who the hell you are anymore. Or maybe you're an actor because there is no there, there? Didn't we do that as kids in the privacy of our bedrooms? Even dumb kids know its stupid and wait around when no one is watching to pretend they're a cowboy or a princess, or a super hero.

But there you are up on the big screen and somewhere deep inside while smiling for the cameras at some other stupid, insipid photo opt you know your life is just one big fat stupid zero. How many shirts can you buy? Expensive shoes? Fast cars? How many Rolexes can you wear? How many stupid women with plastic boobs can you hump? Before one day you just wake up and say, "This is bull-shit." So whaddaya do? You decide to check out. Well what a selfish bastard you are. Why don't you take your money and influence and do something with your life? Do you know how many people are getting up every day to go to their lousy jobs teaching kids their ABCs, arresting the bad guys, puttin' out fires, taking away our garbage? And they don't go slugging some booze and slitting their wrists. And speaking of slitting your wrist? What is that bullshit? Women take pills and slit their wrists. Men, real men, blow their brains out. What panty-waist, half-assed attempt at suicide was that? Your brother found you in the nick of time. How convenient. Gotta movie coming out soon?

Take your money and get serious. Hire a shrink. Get yourself some help. There are real people out there with real depression because their lives are real crap. But they don't have insurance and can't afford a shrink and some meds. Get a damned grip. If Ms. P reads one more dumb-ass story about some stoopid-assed celebrity doing something stupid to get themselves in the paper when there are real people with real problems out there she doesn't know what.....