Dear Tara Reid: Don't Let the Terrorists Win

Dear Tara Reid,

As all three followers of this blog know, I am a huge fan of you and your short-lived drunken train wreck of a best ever reality television show, Taradise. Ah, just typing those words again, Tara, it makes me feel fabulous, it feels like the velvet rope of life has been opened up to me, like I've just done twelve shots of sambuca with the son of some Greek shipping tycoon and now I'm blissfully stumbling onto the beer-sticky floor of life, legs akimbo, one misshapen boob falling not so haphazardly out of my dress and it's...well, it's Taradise, Tara.

But I could go on and on, as you can surely see. So let me get to the point: I read with great interest your cover story in Us Weekly last week. First, let me commend your new publicist. You looked cute, clean, and sober. Your famously public breasts were generally tucked away beneath at least two layers of fabric. It almost seemed like the past five years or so hadn't happened, and it was just that cute girl next door from American Pie on the cover of Us Weekly.

But I didn't just look at the pictures, Tara. I read the article, all 500 words of it, and I'd like to talk to you about one particular passage that I feel is, well, it's important, Tara. Not just important for you and me and all the blissed out denizens of Taradise, but for the good old U S of A.

In the article, you mention that all the "party girl ways" started as a result of September 11. Now, I think we all agree that September 11 was fucked up, Tara. It was a very scary time, and as we all know all too well, it changed a whole lot. Come to think of it, that might have been just about the time that we started buying wine by the case around my house, as well.

But Tara, think about it: if September 11 set you on the party girl path, and now you're about to get off that path, doesn't that mean that, yes, The Terrorists Have Won? Isn't a more helpful reaction to continue the booze-soaked spiral into oblivion? If those pansies at E! won't broadcast your antics anymore, I will gladly donate the Barrelhouse servers for weekly, or better yet, nightly taradisecasts. Be a part of the solution, Tara, not part of the problem. Perhaps we could work out some kind of national terror alert level that has to do with your breasts? Kind of like gang signals, but with, you know, your breasts.

That's just an idea, and it needs work, but the more important issue is that you stay the course, Tara. Don't be the party-girl of cut and run. That's not what Taradise is all about, and if there's one thing I know in this crazy post-9/11 world, it's that we could all do with as much Taradise as we can get.