Dear Johnny Depp,

This is Alex from Seattle, Wa and I am writing you today because I’ve had just about all I can take from you.

I am 26 years old, and from the ages of about 10 to 16 years old I will admit that I thought you were pretty cool. You had me with A Nightmare On Elm Street and Ed Wood, which are still pretty good movies. And because you yield some sort of weird power over teenage girls, I liked Edward Scissorhands. I haven’t gone back to re-watch Edward Scissorhands, but if I did I bet I would think it was dumb and that while you were filming it you totally thought you were going to win an Oscar for playing an ugly person. I don’t like the movie Dead Man but I don’t think it’s your fault and I’m not going to make fun of you for being in Don Juan DeMarco or What’s Eating Gilbert Grape because both of those movies are hilarious and I’m glad you made them. You are stupid.

The real problem between us began shortly after the release of Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas. I’m not going to harp on this as much as I could but I think it’s time someone tell you that you are not Hunter S. Thompson in real life. You are a dumb actor that lives in the South of France with a pop star, not a radical guy that spent his life fighting hypocrisy. I bet Hunter S. Thompson just killed himself to get away from you. For the record, you aren’t Keith Richards either.

Now this part I expect you know. Sometime after Fear And Loathing, maybe a year or so, I had a dream. You came over to my house and tried on some of my clothes. You looked better than I did in some of them, so I told you to go ahead and just keep the ones you liked. You left very pleased with a few bags of my clothes and the next day I heard a knock at my door. I walked over and opened it, only to find you standing there with a brand new laptop. You told me the laptop was a gift of appreciation for me giving you my clothes the day before. I graciously accepted. When I woke up from the dream I had this feeling like you weren’t so bad and maybe kind of a cool guy. What took me a few years to discover is that that dream was really some kind of supernatural method you used to gain access to my mind. Somehow my accepting your laptop gave you the key to my innermost likes and dislikes.

You are really good at doing things I dislike, and as if turning the life’s work of a great American hero such as Hunter S. Thompson into your silly little cartoon costume weren’t bad enough, you and your little sidekick Tim Burton have ventured on a mission to destroy all that is holy to a 26 year old blond girl that works part time at a video store. This re-make of the 1960’s television cult favorite Dark Shadows you are heading is, for lack of a better phrase, really pissing me off. I love that fucking show, and now I will be forced to walk on a street past some teenager wearing a hoodie with ears attached to it and a Dark Shadows t-shirt on; a Dark Shadows t-shirt that he bought at a Hot Topic with your stupid face on it. Taking something that is sacred to me, cat ladies, dudes in basements etc. and turning it into a vehicle for you to play a sexy vampire is maddening. And now Mr. Johnny (I think I’m so cool) Depp I have read that you are in the works to re-make one of my all time favorite movies THE THIN MAN! Seriously?! You think you can do a better job than William Powell did? I got news for you buddy: you’re a turd.

I would like to conclude this letter by telling you that I don’t want your fucking laptop! You can keep the clothes but I’m giving you your laptop back. I should have never accepted it in the first place and I will have to live with the guilt of the Dark Shadows and Thin Man re-makes for the rest of my life. But the jig is up! It stops here and now & I don’t want to hear about you re-making one more thing I like (the same goes for that Burton character). I hope I’ve made myself clear.

Thank you.

Alexandra Cartwright