Friday, January 15, 2010


Obviously, Heidi Montag doesn't take advice from anyone. If she did, we would a) happily not know who she is, b)never have to see her face peering out at us from the glossy tabloids and c)not have to witness her sick body abuse self-proclaimed on the cover of this week's People magazine with the catchy title, "Addicted to Plastic Surgery."

Have you seen it? Looking more like Donatella Versacci than a 23-years-young startlet, Heidi and her now "DDD" girls proclaim that she recently underwent ten plastic surgeries (ranging from an eyebrow lift to a butt augmentation) in one day. She argues that everyone in Hollywood does it and that she's simply coming clean. She dreams of becoming a pop star and sites Britney Spears' sexuality as the reason for Brit's success and popularity. Here's the thing, despite Britney's early-on good looks (don't tell anyone I said this), the Louisiana Lolita is talented. She may not have strong vocals, but Miss Thing has it and when she wants to, she shows it off with her dance moves that she's been working on and practicing since babyhood. So sad that it's come to defending Britney Spears to make a point but Heidi has, in fact, sunk the world of celebrities (even fake ones) that far.

For years now, I've pretending to live in a Heidi-less world. Acknowledging her and that ego-fueled husband of hers felt like truly the end of the world--my very own Apocalypse. But this sad, pathetic, creepy magazine cover is simply too much to take passively and quietly's my advice that Heidi clearly doesn't want to hear...

Dear Heidi,

You are an embarrassment but were, until now, an avoidable one. As a mother, I can't disregard you anymore. Because there you (and your porn star-sized beachballs and plumped up lips) are staring out from the grocery store magazine shelf proclaiming how beautiful you feel thanks to all the elected surgery. Kids can read and now they have questions. So I am forced to try and explain your pathos to my children who are being raised to want to do something fulfilling with their lives so they won't need a barrage of paparrazzi following them to feel important.

I actually do have one compliment for you, that is, if you can lift the heavy quilt of insecurity you clearly suffocate under long enough to take it in. You were a cute girl when you first appeared on The Hills. Your personality and mean streak made you ugly but in silent moments, you were a beautiful L.A. youngling who I'm certain must have seemed enviable to other tweens and teens across the country. You struck gold. You became famous for nothing. But that wasn't enough. You needed and felt you deserved more. So you set off on a vapid journey seeking celebrity. The problem is when you are a celebrity for no reason, you have all the downfall without actually having the benefit of feeding your artistic passion to justify the madness. You live in a world of sleaziness, back-stabbing, competition and opportunism simply for the sake of hanging with others who live there hopefully as a means to an end.

My advice is, therefore, quite simple. Stop it. Stop the surgeries. Stop playing the role of canoodling, cavorting pseudo-celeb. Stop the madness. There's still time. You can find meaning in life but you have to say goodbye to Hollywood. It's destroying you bit by bit--literally. You claim to be using your fame to simply show what goes on in the world of Hollywood beauty. But you are not using your fame. You are hoping to gain fame. That's a very big difference. America tires easily of no-talent reality stars. You have had an unusually long stay but it's time to check-out and get your life back or find out what life you are going to lead. Unless you are interested in the world of XXX-rated film, the movie business is not for you. You will never be a successful pop star (by the way, you might want to take note that homely but immensely talented Susan Boyle had the largest ever female debut with her album). The fame game is over. You are now descending into an E! True Hollywood Story that isn't going to end well.

Seek out help. There are professionals. Go back to your family. They hopefully haven't given up hope. Get rid of Spencer. He is a train wreck that nobody wants to watch anymore.

Here's what not to not procreate. First, America can't handle a Speidi spawn. Secondly, if you think you needed ten surgeries now, I'd hate to see what you'd think about your stretched-out, varicose veined out, mushy post-pregnancy bod.

Heidi, go home!