An Open Letter to Rosie O'donnell

An open letter to my homegirl, Rosie O'donnell:

Dearest Ro (may I call you Ro?),
Ro baby, you know I love you. Really, I truly do. You are the shit and the cat's ass, all rolled into one. You da man, as the kids say, you are my lady, as Freddie Jackson sang in the 80's, and you are my sunshine, as the kindergarten set says. I was so happy when you got your own show, I used to have people in North Battleford tape it for us, and I went through a whole elaborate rouse to actually steal tapes of your show from friends who were visiting - when they were leaving, I distracted them so they would forget to check the living room for their tapes. I know, it's terrible. But it was well worth it. Ah Ro, I always pictured us hanging out, eating junk food and singing the theme to Maude (because, babe, like Maude, you are incompromisin', enterprisin', anything but tranquilizin'. I was sad when you left the air, was happy when I found you in blogland, and then thought "yeah baby" when you saved the View from frogface Star and lil' Anita Bryant. And you know, you looked hot in Exit to Eden. Now, let's never talk about that again.
So when I was hearing about all the shit yesterday, I wanted to say "stick it to the anorexic bitch, Rosie, you da woman!" It's no secret, Kelly Ripa is someone I just don't warm up to. As Stevie Nicks sang so eloquently in the title track to her awesome album Bella Donna, "it's just a feeling... sorta captures your soul." Well, that's what I think about Kelly. It's a feeling I have that just doesn't sit well with me. And so I want to take your side. But really honey, all you did was out Clay. I mean, we all know he's gayer than a three dollar bill. But he pretends he isn't, so whatever, if wants to say he's straight (in the same way all the scientologists say they are straight, WINK WINK - Sorry, I know your Tom Cruise thing, but come on), let's let him be. We ain't never seen Dinah Shore say Liberace was gay on HER show. But anyway, I really don't think she was being homophobic. It's because the anorexic little biotch (who needs to meld with an Olsen twin or something to double her weight) hates Clay (I told you, she's difficult), and also, he's so gross looking. Ain't no way I'd want Clay's creepy hillbilly hand over my mouth either. I wouldn't want him touching me no way, no how - you know, it's the situation where you shake hands with the creepy person and then reach for the hand sanitizer. I mean, really, I would rather have Martha Raye's dentures in my mouth than have that freaky-ass Clay's hand over my mouth. I wouldn't be worrying about where it's been - I'd be worrying that it's from Clay. So when you say "she wouldn't complain if it was Mario Lopez's hand", well honey, I wouldn't either, because Mario doesn't look like he's from Children of the Corn. It's that simple. I don't mean to be mean to Clay, because as I have said time and again, I ain't no Willie Ames, but he's creepy. It's like in Judy Blume's novel Deenie, where Deenie and all the other kids are afraid to touch that girl, whatshername, because she has eczema, which they called the creeping crud. So you see, it's not because Kelly's homophobic. It's because Clay is creepy. And his creepiness in looks supersedes his good qualities I guess, much the same way Didi Cohn creeped me out as a child, or Liza Minelli. So come on, just say "I was wrong" for once, and move on. We still love you, and you can yell at Tom Selleck all you want. But if you are going to rant and rave about Clay and Kelly, then you better start talking shit about Tom Cruise and the sham of a marriage to that little girl who is standing in a hole in all the pictures, because honey, if not, it's just hypocritical.
Anyway, I still love ya Ro - As our Joni so eloquently sang "I can't even hear the fucking music playing for the Beat of Black Wings." Yes, this song lyric has no meaning here, but I couldn't think of any other Joni-ism.
So Ro, suck it up and let's move on.
Love ya lots, Maudie
xo
JT