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Our Ears Are Burning!
Bloggers Wanted
We're looking for new bloggers! Do you have what it takes? Contact us by clicking here!| An Open Letter to Nathan Fillion |
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I am a fan, but more than that I am a concerned fan. What am I concerned about, you ask? Very good question. You're paying attention, I like that. Anywho, I'm worried about your security. As you have probably already realized, many of your fans are fucking crazy. Let's examine what I mean by the word "crazy", shall we? We shall... - If they bring you an 8x10 photo of you and them, but they've never met you before (meaning they have photoshop'd themselves into a picture of you) --- they're crazy. - If they make up mySpace pages dedicated to you, even though mySpace pages aren't called "other people's space" pages --- they're crazy. - When they talk to you and end every sentence with "my captain" --- they're crazy. - If they tell you they'd become prostitutes like Inara if it meant they could get you --- they're crazy. - If somehow your laundry is folded on your bed every morning and you don't have a maid, it's probably one of them and --- they're crazy. - They will tell you "Two Guys, A Girl and a Pizza Place" was the greatest sitcom ever. Don't listen to them --- they're crazy.
- "White Noise 2" was NOT "critically acclaimed" --- they're crazy. - If they give you a teddy bear in a browncoats costume, say "thank you" and then have it checked for microphones --- they're crazy. I guess what I'm trying to say, Mr. Fillion, is that a large percentage of your fans are as nutty as my shit after an all-night binge of cashews. Please learn from this letter. Keep to the daylight, bring a security guard and hold mace in your right hand at all times. I also suggest ear plugs, 'cause they can scream a lot. Protect your penis. I suggest a small, vicious animal that you can stick down your pants and that you can train to not bite off said protected area. Maybe a ferret or a grumpy midget. I don't know, try different ones out. I hope you heed my words, sir. Please be careful. We sane fans hope you'll be okay.
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Dear Mr. Fillion,
- If they ask you if they can raffle off your underwear for "charity" and then you find out the "charity" didn't exist --- they're crazy.


