Rob- it turns out that saying “Honey, I know it’s our 4 year anniversary but I have to write Rob a letter” doesn’t quite turn on the hubby like one would think. So as I was, uh, occupied last night, I got some other people to pour their hearts out to you for once!
EliciaK had a dream. That dream led to a phone call, which in turn led to this letter. Grab a nice tall glass of freshly squeezed juice and enjoy…
First, let’s start with the fantasies facts. It’s no secret that the lovely ladies that frequent this site dream about you. Some of those dreams involve making friends with Sam Bradley, some focus more on throwing things at old women. Poochimama even had a dream where you were hiding out under a podium in a museum and Brooke Shields was her sister (Poochi: “Yeah, That’s Normal. Don’t judge!) Nevertheless, this dream – the one that crept into E’s head and woke her up in a cold sweat – involved you, a FoodSaver, and a 1-800 number.
You see, EliciaK’s subconscious turned you into a pitchman for a food vacuum-sealer. That’s right. You were doing infomercials. When “The Call” was first placed and the dream was retold, we giggled like the *cough-sputter* year-old fangirls we are and agreed that if anyone could sell ketchup popsicles to little old ladies in white gloves, it would be you, Rob. In fact, you wouldn’t even really have to pitch anything (ahem…) to us. Just your holding a product would be enough to make us buy it. In fact, you wouldn’t even have to hold the product, you could just stand near it and we’d whip out our…credit cards and make a purchase.
Unfortunately, that’s not where the conversation ended. Naturally, we started expounding on the idea and began to wonder what’s going to happen to you when your career begins to wane. Obviously, you can’t live with TomStu forever; and Kristin is
bound to kick you out of your palatial pad after Breaking Dawn is over, or after she starts developing a pot belly from all the Hot Pockets – whichever comes first. So we, EliciaK and Poochimama, came up with this list of possibilities for your future. Choose wisely, young one….
Option 1: The Ugly
Starring Robert Pattinson as Leif Garrett
We know you love your music, Rob, really we do. But after years of strumming your guitar in smoky bars in front of the only twelve people on earth who still don’t know who you are, you tire of it. Nothing gives you that thrill anymore. KStew has broken your heart and stolen all your plaid. The pizzeria told you that you can’t hang out by their dumpster anymore, and the Brit Pack has banned you from poker night. Even Nikki Reed won’t return your calls. You’re desperate. You drown your sorrows with German lager (the one preferred by frat boys around the globe) and soon you’re seeing the world through green-tinted Ray Bans. No, this isn’t a metaphor. You have actually lost the lenses to your sunshades in a bar fight and replaced them with the bottoms of Heineken bottles.
Sick of being called “Edrunk” and “HeineCullen” in the tabloids, you take to going to auditions inebriated and shirtless – starting out interviews with the phrase, “See? I really don’t sparkle!” Dick and Claire lose their patience with you, and they call in Vh1 and Dr. Drew to overhaul your sorry, drunk arse.
Flash forward to Celebrity Rehab, wherein you sit in a generic treatment facility, sobbing over being “typecast” and muttering incoherently about “the haircut.” You chain smoke and grow your beard until its long enough to braid.
Option 2: The Bad
Starring Robert Pattinson as Donnie Osmond
Oh! That killer smile! That winning personality! Those teeth! That hair! The muti-generational appeal! No, we’re not talking about you, Rob…we’re talking about Donnie Osmond.
After your career’s heyday has passed, you move to Utah and have 17.4 kids with a completely unknown, simple, trustworthy woman. (Pick me! Pick me!) You briefly try to revive your career by reinventing yourself as a pop star. When that doesn’t work, you move on to selling record collections on late-night TV, hosting your own talk show, doing musicals on Broadway, hosting game shows… Basically h00ring yourself out in an attempt to keep yourself relevant. The straw that will break this camel’s back, though, will be when you are signed to “Dancing with the Stars, Season 56.”
That’s right, Rob. You – on a dance floor – with a scantily clad twenty-something girl, doing your little cha-cha-cha in a sequin jumpsuit for all the world to see. (Note to readers: You’re all invited over for the premier. We’ll provide the Lean Pockets with Whole Grain Crust. We’ll need the extra fiber by then.)
Option 3: The Good
Starring Robert Pattinson as Johnny Depp
That’s right, we said Johnny Depp. Do we really need to say anymore? Well, we will anyway…
Rob, you have the potential to be the next V.I.E. Very Important Edward. Johnny made us swoon with his Scissorhands version, and you’ve done the same with yours of the blood-sucker sort.
Not of this world? Check.
Deadly, but with a heart of gold? Check.
Played by a young actor full of potential who dresses like he’s homeless, is a musician at heart, loves Ray Bans, bad hats, swilling beer, AND has the ability to make ladies’ undergarments spontaneously combust by simply looking at them? Checkity-check-check-check.
Please, Rob, do the right thing. Even though it kills us to not see your face when you’re hiding out – keep doing it, because it’s nice that you’re not a media h00r. Even though we may have to suffer through films like Twilight How to Be and The Haunted Airman – keep doing them, because they do give you credibility. And even though you seemingly can’t procure clothing from anywhere other than second-hand stores and your dad’s closet – keep doing that too, because it gives us hope that someday, you’ll grow up to be a real hobo pirate respected actor, who didn’t sell his soul to a stylist just so he’d blend in with the Mike Newton’s of the world. (No offense, Mike.)
‘Til we meet again, in our dreams (lit’rally)…
EliciaK and Poochimama
PS – No Osmonds were harmed during the writing of this post.
Phew! Wouldn’t want to harm an Osmond!
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