Hello friends! I’m a little bogged down (in a good way!) with some other writing projects so I won’t be blogging daily for awhile. During this little hiatus, if you find yourself needing a Naked Fan Mail fix, check out one of these. Also, be sure to catch new ones as I write them by following me on TWITTER!

My All-Time Naked Fan Mail Favorites:

• I crush Eddie Murphy’s latest record

• Happy Cinco de Mayo to Salma Hayek

• Prison rules for George Clooney prison rules

• Thanking a friendly NYPD cop (also, “how I ended up in jail that one time”)

• Something for the Veterans!

• Match.com tips for Jennifer Love Hewitt

• Baby naming advice for Antonio Sabato Jr.

• Fan mail to some bad ass Navy SEALs

• I’ve got inventions that rival Bethenny Frankel’s

• A meat-eaters plea to Alicia Silverstone

• Something about Katy Perry‘s mesmerizing boobs

• Happy St. Patrick’s Day to Liam Neeson!

• Using deductive reasoning to determine the size of Jake Gyllenhaal’s man parts

• Letting Ken Jennings know I’ve got his back (against the robots that will take over the world)

• A “good on ya!” to uber dad (and the only president I’d ever campaign for) Martin Sheen

• Diversifying my portfolio with Fifty Cent

• Chevy Chase is the only thing my family can agree on

• Alice-from-the-Brady-Bunch better watch her back!

• Counting Weight Watchers Points with Ginnifer Goodwin

• Why Willow Smith needs to stay in school

• Getting workout tips from Madonna

• My first *grown up* fan mail to Joey McIntyre

• My theory about Flo Rida and Edible Arrangements

• A “fuck yeah!” to Reese Witherspoon

• Why I should be Kim Kardashian’s bridesmaid

• RIP Macho man Randy Savage from a serious WWF fan

• Why I’m Team Edward, Team Coco and Team Nene (Leakes)

Lance Armstrong was apparently prepared to do anything to win, including blood and plasma transfusions, injections of human growth hormone testosterone and calf’s blood. I don’t get it. Honestly. What’s so great about winning?

Reasons winning is overrated:

1. People don’t like winners (look what it did to Charlie Sheen). We like losers. ie. June Shannon (Honey Boo Boo’s mom). No denying she’s a total loser, and guess what? I LOVE HER! The term “lovable loser” exists because losers are, in fact, lovable. Not like prick-faced Lance Armstrong. He’s so unlikeable, he should play a Republican in a movie.

2. Losers make average people feel better about themselves. Why do you think I continue to be friends with like 15% of my Facebook friends? (not you, whoever is reading this, you’re awesome).

3. When you win all the time, people expect you to continue winning, which puts pressure on you to win, which leads to stress, and as we all know, stress is where wrinkles come from and fuck it, I’d rather be a 45-year-old loser who still gets carded at bars than a raisin-faced winner.

So here’s my advice to Lance… go out there and do some solid LOSING for awhile!

Uhm. Spoiler alert?

I saw Flight over the weekend starring Denzel Washington playing a pilot who really likes to party.  Like reeeeaally likes to party.  Like gets trashed the night before, the morning before (and during!) a flight but it’s cool because he takes a hit of coke before flying to straighten him out.

My biggest takeaway from the movie (aside from NEVER EVER feeling comfortable on a flight again) is: THAT’S WHAT COCAINE DOES?!  I’ve never done cocaine. In the movie it’s kinda like… hey look, Denzel is a mess of a human, sloppy and drunk… then he snorts some cocaine and voila!  New man!  Ready to take on the world! Save lives! Testify before the FAA!  If that’s how cocaine works I think I needed some like yesterday.  And last Saturday.  And most weekends throughout college.  Get a new PR firm, cocaine!

Super broke former actress Lindsay Lohan is offering to show up at weddings, holiday parties, birthday bashes, quinceaneras for a price.  And that price is whatever it costs to buy twice as much alcohol as you were planning on buying because she’s def gonna drain your open bar (and probably hook up with your one “weird” cousin).

I don’t know what she actually does at these parties, but if Herbie Fully Loaded taught us anything, it’s that it’s probably going to be really really terrible.

For more Naked Fan Mail to Linds:
Naked Fan Mail when she signed a deal with Playboy! 10/25/11
Naked Fan Mail to her brother when he got a real job! 3/2/11
Naked Fan Mail when she got busted shoplifting! 2/10/11
Naked Fan Mail when she got out of rehab! 1/3/11
Naked Fan Mail when she busted out of rehab for a shopping trip! 11/8/10

Not sure if you all have heard, but there’s a lot of hub bub around the A&E show Storage Wars. Don’t watch Storage Wars?  Email my husband, he’s seen every episode twice, he can get you all caught up.  It’s a reality show about bidding on storage lockers and one of the stars is suing the production because it’s “fake”.  With that in mind, let me tell you all a little tale…

There was a scene two seasons ago on New Jersey salon reality show Jerseylicious that was a game changer for me (hear me out). This chick (Gigi) was sitting at a bar waiting for a blind date to show up. I’m fully in. Like “what’s gonna happen?!… will he be cute?!… maybe this will be the guy that will help her move on from Frankie?!…” ya know, normal fully-into-this-show kinda stuff. And then it hits me: no one else at the bar is talking. They were all mingling like background actors: no talking, no looking at the camera, no coming into the shot.  Upon further inspection, I noticed the lighting and the cameras — 3 different camera angles and the lighting in every shot was perfect.  At a bar.  Perfect lighting. Zero talking.  And that’s when it hit me: THIS IS FAKE!  I’VE BEEN DUPED!  WHO KNOWS IS THERE EVEN IS A GIGI.  WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE?

What I’m trying to say is: there’s a bare minimum a reality show has to do in order for us all to just go along with it and not question whether it’s “fake” or not.  I want to watch Storage Wars.  My husband is actually ADDICTED to Storage Wars.  But the participants/actors/bidders/whatever-we’re-calling-them keep bringing up the fact that it’s all rigged.  If we had thought about it for more than a second we’d piece that together ourselves (I mean come on, there’s like hidden treasure in every other storage locker).  All I’m looking for in my reality shows is just a semblance of reality.  Is there a locker that has that in it, cause if so, you think I’m gonna bid? YUUUUP!

I get it, she’s in a big movie… (that looks amazing and I’m seeing it and I already know all the words to all the songs because I saw Les Mis on a school trip in 6th grade and most of the songs have never left my head and I even used them to audition for every musical in high school — “I have a castle on a cloud…” was my go to — I never got cast in a single play (thanks Mr. G!) but I don’t hold that against the songs, they weren’t really in my range, and I’m sure Anne kills them all, so in short, yeah can’t wait to see her big fancy movie)… but do we have to see her on the cover of EVERY magazine? EVERY late night show? EVERY city’s red carpet event? Seeing EVERY inch of her body?

No seriously. She just showed the one last remaining inch that hadn’t been seen in any of the aforementioned venues; just plopped it out there while exiting a car at a red carpet. See for yourself (NSFW version)…

Adele is getting fined because she never registered her new baby with the British government.  If it’s anything like it is in the States, who can blame her?  I recently had to get a marriage license at the LA County Clerk’s office.  Complete disast.  Everyone only speaks Spanish and the only thing longer than the lines are the employees’ acrylic nails.

Stephen Baldwin got arrested for tax evasion and took what will go down in history as the most amazing mug shots ever. Sparkling ice-blue eyes with a focused gaze, lips just slightly pursed to make them look full but not pouty, eyebrows in the verge of being raised as if to say “can I buy you a drink, sugartits?”, hair so perfect it just screams “I’m a Baldwin”, button down shirt with a collar so white and crisp it’s as if he knew he’d be taken in for a white collar crime that evening and wanted to really look the part.

This is a man who knows how to dress.  This is a man who has style and class.  This is a man who’s going to be savagely butt raped once he’s in the clink.

PS. Taxes are too hard! If a put together fella like Steve here can’t figure out the math, how are the rest of us supposed to get it sorted? Get on that, government.

Jay-Z took the subway to his show in Brooklyn and sat down to an adorable lady who has no fucking clue who he is. Really, it’s precious. Especially at the end, when she pretends to know who he is. I’m surprised she didn’t ask what “J.Z.” stands for.

Sidenote: THE SUBWAY? I hope your next song is about Purell.

PS. You just know Beyonce was like “oh hell no… I’ll meet you there.”