Dear Harvey Weinstein, You scare the shit out of me. Sometimes I have these elaborate fantasies about how I would totally stand up to you if we ever ran into each other and you freaked out and turned into an asshole.
Like I said, these are fantasies. I want to explain that I don't have them very often. And I don't think I'll ever have them again, because I was recently at a reception, and you were there, and you stood next to me and talked to my boss for about five minutes, and even though it was totally innocuous, I was like a rabbit frozen in the middle of the road, staring death in the face, but unable to fucking move or speak or blink! It was horrible. Just horrible. Now I understand your empire of terror! I apologize for any offensive comments I might have made in the past re: your resemblance to a toad, and I promise never to do it again. I'm
very sorry, |
They're
usually set at a reception someplace, and you're there and I'm there,
and a cater-waiter brings you an imperfectly cooled bottle of water,
and then you start screaming and spitting at him. So I march up to you
and say, "That's totally uncool, Harvey. What, did you go to the
Russell Crowe School of Charm? Don't you know no one likes a bully?"
and you totally back down under my steely glare, and everyone around
me is really impressed by my gumption and there might be some applause,
and then Roy Disney comes up to me and says, "Hey, how would you
like to run a Disney subsidiary? 'Cause I've got a few up for grabs,"
and I say yes, and then I move to an organic goat farm in the Palisades
and run Miramax from my living room. posted by Elana