Dear Mel Gibson:

 I really don’t know where to begin because I don’t know what part of your rant is most disturbing.  The misogyny?  The racism?  The inability to string three words together that don’t start with an “F”?

  Not to be flip, but I’m pretty sure OJ wasn’t quite as angry as you are.  You really should seek help.  At the very least, call Charlie Sheen.  He  isn’t stupid enough to be caught on tape.

 Also, I want my $8 back for having watched Edge of Reason.

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 Dear Mel Gibson’s girlfriend:

 No woman ever deserves to be the victim of violence.  That is an absolute truth.  Without question and without  excuse. 

 That said, I think you’re kind of a tool.  It is not normal to engage your psycho ex-boyfriend in a conversation where you speak in a calm, measured tone while he is off his rocker.  Usually a highly emotional phone call like that one involves two screaming parties.  If one party is as calm and rational as you sounded, they know that the best thing to do is HANG UP.

 In my opinion you tried to string out the call to make him sound as crazy as possible , then released the tapes to ruin his reputation.  I won’t hold it against you too much, though, because he is pretty crazy and does deserve to have his reputation ruined.

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Dear Bristol Palin:

Aw, sweetie.  You’re a moron.

Everyone loves the bad boy in high school.  I get it.  I’ve been there.  But here’s the thing about the bad boys… they’re BAD and they’re never going to be anything but BOYS.

Levi Johnston is kind of funny because you know he’s crappy husband material even if he’d never made it to a national level.  The difference is that instead of carousing all night with the boys, he posed  nude in Playgirl.  Instead of blowing the diaper money on cigarettes, he dissed  your mom in Vanity Fair magazine.

You made a huge mistake by drinking one too many PBR and following him back to his ice-fishing shack one night.  Please don’t compound the mistake by making it legal.