Dear Kim Kardashian,
I find myself asking, "Who do I despise more: Kim Kardashian or the Americans who keep you famous?" It's enough already.
Last Friday you appeared on the Today Show. Poor Ann Curry had to wake up before dawn to go to Rockefeller Center and co-host the morning chatfest, and her job for that day was to somehow make you interesting for a television audience. I can't think of a worse job on the planet. Ann asked you a question about your relationship with Kanye West and you acted coy. Are you bleeping serious? Your entire career is based upon you turning your personal life into a spectacle. Nobody is looking for a demure Kim Kardashian and nobody buys your evasive attitude. Since the rest of the fluffing American media decides to kiss your trademark ass and coddle you, allowing you to indulge in your own narcissism, I want to be the one to set the record straight. But before I do, let's revisit that groundbreaking interview:
Your fame began in 2007 when a sex tape surfaced of you back in 2003. Yup, that's right Kim. If it were not for that sex tape, you would still just be "Bruce Jenner's hot daughter". In fact, if I were to rank celebrity sex tapes like AFI ranks films, yours wouldn't break the Top Ten. Later that year, you decided to pose for Playboy. As a first-generation male who's grown up with Internet porn, I can tell you that if I have the choice of going out in public and buying a magazine for five dollars to see you naked or Googling your sex tape in a few convenient clicks, there is no contest.
Your show Keeping Up with the Kardashians is one of two reasons I never turn on the E! Network. The other reason is Ryan "I Won't Be Happy Until My Face Is On Television 24 Hours A Day" Seacrest. As a guy in his 20s, your show is clearly not directed towards me. I get it. I do. I've never seen a single episode, but I am pretty sure I can give it a synopsis. Here goes:
In tonight's episode of Keeping Up with the Kardashians, Kim gets a sunburn resulting in an embarrassing tan line just hours before her big club appearance. In an act of sisterly love, Kourtney and Khloe come to the rescue. Tears, whining, and hilarity ensues.
Am I that far off? I doubt it. The bottom line is that your career, or your "brand," as you call it… Hold on. I can't just breeze by that. Kim, I know when you talk about your brand you feel like a big fancy entrepreneur. Instead you come across worse than that douchey executive who uses the word "synergy" twenty times a day.
Your personal life IS your brand. Unfortunately, this branding has brought several victims into your web of ostentation. Kim, it is no coincidence that when Reggie Bush was dating you, he was irrelevant in the NFL. I encourage you to live your life Kim. However, when your life affects my Fantasy Football team, and my Sundays are ruined because Reggie is distracted by the 57 magazine covers he's on, I get a little miffed. Scratch that. I get utterly enraged, throwing empty beer cans against the wall. Wide receiver Miles Austin was lucky to escape your grasp so quickly. Poor Kris Humphries, on the other hand, wasn't.
Kris thought he was in love. Kim, I'm not sure what you were thinking. Maybe you thought your wedding was a huge opportunity. Maybe you were unaware that Kris is a mediocre NBA player at best. Maybe you wanted to put on a pretty dress and say, "Look at me! I'm a princess!" All I know is that you were married for 72 days. Go to Google and type "How long was," and you are the first thing that comes up. In your warped mind, you may think this means you are successful. In reality, it means you are a joke.
So when you go on the Today Show and people ask you about your personal life, please remember that your personal life is the only reason why people know who the hell you are. I don't blame you. You're only capitalizing on your fame to make a fortune. I get it. However, don't bite the hand that feeds you, Kim. There will come a day when nobody cares who you are dating and you. Will. Become. Irrelevant.
Hopefully, it comes sooner rather than later.
Sincerely,
Garytt Poirier (@Garytt)
