Rejected letters to People Magazine, princess dandling edition

Dear people who knead People (Magazine):

Please bear with me. It’s been awhile since I’ve written and I have a lot of pent up thoughts and feelings. Also, in kind of a new thing for me, this letter will cover two topics, so you may want to break it up and run it as two separate letters. You can use a fake name on one or both of them, so it doesn’t look like I am the only one writing to you, even if that may be true. 

OK, topico numero uno: You’ve got Princess Kate DANDLING on the cover. Question: When is it appropriate to show a princess dandling? Answer: Never! I don’t want to see a princess dandling, and I’m pretty sure the rest of America doesn’t want to see it either. It’s disgusting! Ix-nay on the incess-pray andling-day!

I am pleased that Kate has a new nanny though. Thank God!

Topico numero two-o: Yes, we know Mickey Rooney was a horndog! His “many legendary loves?!” Who are you kidding? We know what you are getting at here with your sneaky coded language. You’re implying that just because Mickey was shortish and banged a lot of broads, that makes him a wee oversexed freak. So I suppose William Powell was just fulfilling his height-determined erotic destiny by plowing the fertile fields of Hollywood’s starlet farms? Listen, I have it on good authority that Mickey Rooney was a gentleman, not some love-’em-and-leave-’em roué. He made sure his ladies were satisfied—all the way satisified, if you know what I’m saying—which is more than you can say for Glenn Ford!  


M. Ravid Lichlard

PS. If you think my nanny comment warrants it, you can break this into three letters instead of just two.


Rejected Letters to People Magazine, Emergency Edition

To the supervisor of the people at People Magazine:

With all due respect, you need to get your people on a tighter leash and your People back to the high standards best exemplified by the profile you did (that one time) on those grossly obese people who lost enough weight to be considered just plain vanilla obese.

I am, of course, writing about the cover story “Deep Inside Kathy’s Dark Nightmare” (Sep. 23).

HER nightmare? What about MY nightmare? First Prince Harold’s casino cavorting and now Princess Kathy’s ta-ta tanning. For the love of God, when it comes to your covers, you must stop putting on heirs who toss their togs.

Look, back in my day, royals never disrobed FOR ANY REASON. And we liked it that way. I don’t hesitate to say we were ALL BETTER OFF.

In that more genteel time, whipping off the Windsor wovens was Just. Not. Done. Or talked about, or even contemplated. And with good reason. I mean, Princess Margaret? Hello?! One shudders to even think.

That nowadays the young royals are flaunting the loins of the lineage is utterly revolting to me, and if, as I suspect, a significant number of your subscribers are as sensitive as I am, there will be more revolting to come. Continue running stories that are royally risqué and even 75% off the newsstand price won’t be enough to keep us in the page fold.

When it comes to the empire’s epidermis, ignorance is not just bliss: it’s downright necessary for sanity’s survival. At your office hot tub parties, clothing may be optional. But here where I live, royal bods are too much to bare.

Not kidding,

D. M. Larely