THE BLOG

An Open Letter to Jessica Simpson

08/16/2009 05:12 am ET | Updated May 25, 2011

I say to you, first, a belated Happy Birthday. Second, I can only kind of imagine how much it could have sucked to be dumped by your boyfriend right before turning 29. Turning 29 sucks enough; I know because I did it in January. But to have a serious relationship end the day before? Holy crap, Jessica. I really feel for you. A while back, I was dumped on MySpace without my knowledge and then less than 24 hours later, my great-grandmother died. That was rough. But no one was watching me like they watch you. And since much of your career -- admit it -- has been based on your relationships with other people, you know people were totally watching you and waiting for you to fail.

And I'll bet some of them were Dallas Cowboys fans.

Listen, Jessica. I know you're from Texas, but the Dallas Cowboys suck. You know this firsthand now. It's also a widely held belief that everyone hates Dallas. And you know what? Most of their fans suck too. One of them used to bark at me on the school bus and got my whole neighborhood against me, and it made my life miserable. That kid was and still is an asshole. And guess what? These days I get pretty positive feedback on my appearance and apparently being a nerd is cool now. I really wish someone had told all those douchebags on my bus.

Okay, that was mostly about me, and I apologize. But the bottom line, Jessica Simpson, is that despite my utter and total disinterest in your career, I genuinely and with no irony really sympathize with you. As a fellow woman who has been jilted. In the most douchey, assholy ways possible. I may never watch your show or buy an album of yours, and you may never read this or see my sketches. (Though if you are reading this and you do want to, you can click here and then I'll totally watch your show. No joke. I'll even promote it on FaceBook. Because, yeah, you totally need my help, Jessica Simpson. I know.) But we both have better things to do with our lives than worry about guys who are stupid enough to dump us on MySpace/right before our birthdays/bark at us/call us fat. (Which you never were, but burn those jeans. You know the ones to which I refer.) We have careers. They may be uncertain and have many branches, both withering and thriving, but they need to be tended to. And we're both turning 30 next year, so screw these dudes. One of these days, nice, decent guys who actually like us as much as we like them will find us when we're ready for them. In the meantime, we're just too busy for them.

At least that what we'll keep telling ourselves while we drink our spinstery selves into a stupor on the couch.

Here's to wishful thinking and holding onto our youth for dear life, Jessica Simpson. Because your Twitter about how you "love getting older" was total bullshit. But I understand.

Cheers!