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Tuesday, March 23, 2004

 

Sometimes a Jaguar is Just a Jaguar



Dear Kevin,

It looks like you've finally gone to the media about the idea for my very beautiful movie, Hot Rod. All I can say is that I'm disappointed...that you didn't speak up sooner! I have a lot of devilish things going on in my personal life right now, and what would make me happy again is giving the gift of Hot Rod to the world.

Kevin, as you know, I am a very great admirer of cars, and Hot Rod is my love letter to automobiles everywhere. Cars are shiny and fast. Many of them are new, small, and soft, untainted by the evil of the world. Cars look at the world with unjudging eyes, Kevin. When they see you, they're very happy and they giggle and they never ask, for example, why your skin might appear to be slightly lighter than it was when you were a young, famous popstar, or why your features seem different. They've never even heard of the words "nose-hole" or "gargoyle." Cars are pure and I love them very, very much. I built Neverland Ranch so that people could bring their cars to me so that I could play with them. I sleep with Matchbox cars and Hot Wheels in my bed each night. It's all very innocent and beautiful.

So I decided to channel my creative energies into writing a movie all about a man that turns into a car. I'd play the man/car. How great would that be? And when the man (me) turns into a car, a little boy rides around in him. Originally, I didn't even want there to be a little boy in the movie, but all of my movie producer friends forced me to do it so that the movie could sell lots and lots of tickets. So once I was compelled to put a little boy in my movie, I figured that the man that turns into Hot Rod could drive him to his all-boy Catholic school and to afterschool activities like soccer practice. You know what Catholic schools and soccer practices have? Parking lots where there are lots of other cars to love. Cars so innocent and soft and beautiful.

Kevin, let's make this movie happen. I love cars. I suppose that I would have to participate in the casting sessions to find the little boy. I want to do this movie so badly that I will endure that torture, since the producers would force me to have the boy in the movie. That is how much I love cars.

Your friend,
Michael "Hot Rod" Jackson

P.S. I hear that Jersey Girl is a piece of shit. Maybe you should have made Hot Rod with me instead.







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This is the internet home of Mark Lisanti, a Los Angeles writer sometimes known as Bunsen. He is the founding editor of Defamer, a weblog about Hollywood, where he now serves in the nebulous capacity of "editor-at-large."
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