Being a C-List celebrity is a daunting task. I know you have been typecast as Donna Martin and work has been lean since 90210 went off the air. It has to be annoying when every jerk on the street asks you how Dave Silver’s music career is coming along or if Dylan is finally off the sauce. It is understandable how, after years of being rejected by Hollywood, a girl in your position could have developed a low self-image that leads to an eating disorder and a plastic surgeon sewing horrible breast implants into your chest cavity. Life is tough, kid; but for the love of the baby Jesus, eat a goddamn sandwich.
Holy muthafuckin shit!
F*ck that bi*ch. I should whoop her ass some more.