Famous Friends

This was written to Dear Mrs. Web:

My best friend wants to be a singer and she is really good. I 'm afraid that when we grow up, she might become famous and not remember me. What do I do?

For starters, odds are your friend will never become famous. Ever. No matter how good she is at singing now, by the time she goes through puberty, loses her virginity, becomes a manic-depressive slut with an eating disorder, and barely squeaks her way through high school because of some "favors" to the principal, she'll have the self-confidence of a raisin. And raisins have almost no self-confidence. They're all shrivelly. Yuck.

On the off-chance your friend does overcome the constant inner-humiliation that is her life (hey, Britney Spears did it!) and becomes a singing sensation and captures the heart of America (heart, penis, whatever), then you need to make sure that either a) she never, ever forgets you, or b) all the fame and success she achieves comes crumbling down and you're the only one left. Let's discuss both individually.

Option A: There are many methods that can ensure your friend will never forget you. Perhaps get her drunk and tattoo your name backwards on her forehead, so whenever she looks into the mirror she'll see your name. Or maybe an "accidental" injury that leaves a permanent scar. Those are easy, methods though. Then of course there is electro-shock treatment where you can condition her to grow physically ill and fear your abuse anytime she sees a fire hydrant (those things are fucking everywhere!). My personal recommendation, though, is to found a celebrity gossip syndicate that obsesses over her every waking moment. You know, like that E! network.

Option B: Once she becomes famous and forgets all about you (which, by now, I'm thinking is probably justified since you sound like a snoozer) you should leak embarrassing stories from her childhood and adolescence (specifically the ones about her eating disorders and whore-like lust for daddy's approval) to some obsessive celebrity gossip syndicate that has nothing better to do than obsess over her every waking moment thus creating a viscous cycle that makes celebrities seem more important than they really are. You know, like that E! network. When no one likes her anymore because they found out from a reliable source that she spread like butter on toast for her high school principal (he had hairplugs too!), then she'll have no choice but to go back to you, the dear old friend who ruined it all for her. Or she'll birth a couple of neglected rednecks, shave her hair, and beat your head in with a baseball bat. Hmmm. After writing all that out, it really seems like Option A is the winner.

Whichever option you choose, the bottom line of my Bad Advice is: you should never let fame come between you and a friend. That's what drugs, alcohol, and hookers are for.