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Jett Superior laid this on you on || August 31, 2003 || 1:47 am

Some letters to celebrities, ‘B-list’ or otherwise:

Dear John Taylor,

I can’t help but be troubled by the fact that you look not a whole lot like the John Taylor of my youth, the one who spawned my knee-shakin’ fondness of Bass Players In General. Quite frankly, John Taylor, you remind me that I am aging as well, and that’s just a little thoughtless of you in light of my devotion to you and all.

I’m thinkin’ that flipping your bangs back down over your generous forehead (rather than electro-shocked up, as you’ve taken to wearing them) might help just a tad in preserving the ‘I’m-not-getting-older-just-better-baby’ thing that I desperately sought when seeing you on the tube here in two-aught-aught-three. Has it really been two whole decades, John? Has it been nearly twenty years since I surged up and down the soccer fields with ‘Hungry Like A Wolf’ playing taught and jagged in my brain? All those shots that found the net…I know I’ve never let on, buy they were allllll you, baby. Aaaaalllll you.

Had it been during the ‘Power Station’ era, my team would’ve been screwed. I’d have been so dancy-pantsed and overcome by your smokin’ basswork on the re-work of ‘Bang A Gong’ that I’d've been good for fucking nothing.

To wrap this up: Thanks for all the hot action in the daydreams of my early puberty and quit reminding me that I’m no longer that Young Teen Dynamo.

Oversexed, underpaid, and never over you,

Jett ‘Ohhhh John’ Superior

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Dear Kate Beckinsale,

Damn, girl…you hot.

I’ma go watch that new movie and won’t even care if it sucks large because a) see paragraph above and b) you play a vampire and c) not only do you play a vampire, you play a kick-butt vampire.

Twitchily,

‘Your’ Jett Superior

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Dear London Boys (whom I love equally but am forced to admit that Jason is sorta moving up into the ‘Little Bit More Enamoured With’ spot….),

I realize that it’s been some time since I mentioned you here at [All blogged up and nowhere to go.], so allow me to reassure you in good faith that you are no less in my heart than you were last Tuesday or even a couple-hunnert Tuesdays ago. I also realize that my boyfriend Norman has been getting press from me, but recall that Sam Rockwell and Edward Norton have not received as much exposure here as the two of you have in deference to your feelings toward me and fanly gushings over other celebrity-actor-type men.

Breckin Meyer? That insanely cute fella from the Aerosmith ‘Sweet Emotion’ video? Nary a nod, even though they put a bit of the tingle (you know, the tingle) in the nether regions of Yours Truly. It’s all about you guys.

Come to think of it, I haven’t mentioned beer and sausages for a while either.

Beer and sausages for everybody!

But you, sassy London brothers, you are allll miiiiine.

Still breathless (and just a little flushed) after all these years,

Jett ‘London-burning’ Superior

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Dear Howie Mandel,

Good Lord, I couldn’t even BEGIN to tell you how I ended up at this place. Never ONCE have I ever searched “How To Tattoo A Goat’s Pink Parts”. I thought, however, that you might find the link amusing and in keeping with your rather off-the-wall sense of humor. I would’ve sent it to Robin Williams, because he’d probably really dig it, but ‘you know how he can get’, if ya follow me.

If you don’t mind me mentioning it, you’re really kickin’ that bald pate thing; I think you should stick with that look for a while.

Lookin’ out for your best interests AND slidin’ some material your way,

Jett ‘Friend of the Common Funnyman’ Superior

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Dear Josh Todd,

Your band website is rather cool-ish (I especially enjoy the little floating shower-curtainy graphics for the links and the ’shit selected’ header for your merchandise order page), although you shouldn’t try so hard to be poseboy in your band’s pics. You’re supposed to be the poster boy for excess, not a J.C. Penney layout.

Formidable personal stylist and rock critic,

Jett ‘In the Motherfuckin’ Know, Biznatch’ Superior

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Yep, my work here is done.

Nobody worked it out »

Don´t be shy. Lay it on me.

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