Dearest Pete and Laxdude,

Forgive the time it’s taken me to write this heartfelt love letter that Stephen Falk promised I would write to anyone who watched all of Bratz (right after he threw a tantrum that would have embarrassed my actual two-year-old.)  I have been quite busy not making any money.

It’s Pigs fans like you that make it all worthwhile.  Pete, your dedication to listening to our drunken ramblings during mostly horrid picture shows warms my cockles.  (Not a dirty word.  Look it up.  Freak.)  And Laxdude, your love of pie and the guy who played the station manager in the indie feature Buttleman along with your dislike of Lunchables makes us kindred spirits (although I find all three forms of Battlestar Galactica’s incredibly long stretches without space battles eternally frustrating, I have no idea what the difference is between union and league rugby, and I find it disconcerting that you paid money to see Hot Rod.  But, still.  Kindred spirits.) Continue reading An Open Love Letter To Pete and Laxdude →