Someone's a Little Stressed Out, Don't You Think?

Drew?! Drew, are you ok? You seem stressed out. All that being slutty and stuff has sort of caught up with you. Also, you look like you might be like 10,000 years old.



I saw that you've been firing people, Drew. And that you cheated on your man. With a fucking Yankee. Rly?

And now, oh god, hanging out with Gweneth Paltrow.


She's like half your age. Are you having sex with her and Dennis Rodman in some unholy threesome of gross? I bet you are, you nut-job.


I think it's about time for you to take a Kabbalah vacation.

Drew Makes People Uncomfortable/Drew is a Slut

SPOILER ALERT

Drew told everyone waiting in line "Isn't it a shame about Harvey Dent," which isn't a spoiler but is almost a spoiler and MAKES EVERYONE UNCOMFORTABLE, DREW.

Then she spent the whole movie blowing every 14-year-old boy in the theater, including the ones with girlfriends, because she's a homewrecker and she ruins everyone's good time.

Drew, the Political "Ass"et

I'm much smarter than Drew. I am also more attractive and more successful (except when she, through her whorishness and stupidity, makes my success impossible).

Drew is the Jesse Jackson to my Obama:



The Bill Clinton to my Hillary:



The John McCain to my John McCain:


But it is unlikely Drew will understand what I'm saying, as 1) She is dumb and 2) The instant she sees or hears her own name, she is reminded of her own tenuous existence and is compelled to take 30 pictures of herself.

Dear Abby

Drew has taken to writing to hack newspaper advice columnists to badmouth me:

My boyfriend, "Scott," and I are writers, although we both have day jobs. During the two years we've been together, we have always supported each other's writing careers.

Things changed after my first novel was published. While initially congratulatory, Scott's behavior was different as the publication date neared. He declined to help my friend throw me a party. When I spotted my book on the shelf of a bookstore for the first time, he chided me to keep my voice down. My novel has now been out for months, but he still hasn't read it. (I gave him one of my free copies.)

Scott is a talented writer. He has been published in literary magazines, but hasn't yet published a book. I sympathize with his jealousy and have tried to keep talk of my novel to a minimum. But I'm troubled by Scott's refusal to participate in this exciting period of my life ... Abby, what gives?

What Drew leaves out is that I'm not her boyfriend or even actually a boy, and that photocopying a long account of her extraordinarily boring loss-of-virginity story doesn't count as publishing a novel.