Dear Criss Angel: Mindfreak,

I hate you with an undying passion. I admit - at first, I was somewhat romanced by your impossible tricks and seeming ability to defy death, but I have since become very disenchanted by your enormous ego and your obvious obsession with your appearance. Let me highlight a few reasons why your behavior is not appropriate:

1.) You are only a pseudo-celebrity. It is not okay to act like a diva unless you are one. (P.S. You're not.)

2.) You are 40 years old or some such ridiculous age. It is not okay to act like a partying sex machine that just turned 21.

3.) The fact that it is obvious you spend as much time on your hair, makeup, and wardrobe as you do on your alleged magic tricks reveals your true intentions all too clearly.

4.) Please stop acting like you were just helping Britney out "with her act" or just having a quick bite out to eat with "Cameron". These people are not your friends. They don't like you because you are not important. And please stop implying by avoiding certain questions that your relationship was/is of a sexual nature.

5.) You're obviously having some sort of mid-life crisis regarding your manhood (notice I said mid-life, not're not that far away from collecting social security, my friend). Please stop actively soliciting groupies for sexual favors. Climbing into your car (which parked in direct view of the paparazzi) with two "hot babes" only to have them roll out 5 minutes later looking disheveled and underwhelmed really doesn't impress anyone. By the way, five minutes? Really?

6.) On that same note, I only need to look at you once to figure that you have a small penis, which is charting a direct course toward early onset erectile dysfunction. Enjoy your inner mindfreak while mini-me (and I stress "mini"!) still knows what to do.

7.) Your tricks are old. I originally watched you because reruns of David Blaine levitating on the street for the 300th time were getting a little lame, but at least he's the real deal. Instead of staging your tricks and then performing in front of a "live audience", hang out in a fish bowl above NYC for a few days - then I might give a damn. Wait a minute - that's already been done. So, do us all a favor and crawl back to anonymous, suburban life in Somewhere, New Jersey where you can never bother us again.

8.) You dumped your wife as soon as you were sure you'd "hit it big". That fabulous woman (who was far more attractive than your over-make-uped ass deserves) probably supported your couch potato ass through the early part of your career (remember - when you were still trying to find quarters behind people's ears). She probably cooked for you, cleaned up after you, helped nurture your unhealthy relationship with your hair, and even believed in your stupid magic tricks. And how do you thank her? By giving her the old heave-ho the second two random sluts are willing to blow you in the back seat of your leased Mercedes. If this doesn't scream shallow, self-centered, egomaniacal bastard, I'm not sure what does.

9.) That whole "out in the middle of the desert all alone and suddenly make a bird fly out of my hand" sequence in your opening credits is overly melodramatic. Take a lesson or two from less dramatic intros for more interesting shows, such as Man vs. Wild (P.S. Bear Grylls is 100x the man you'll ever be).


10.) Your ego is taking up too much space on this planet. Do us all a favor and stand out in a lightning storm with a large metal object - now that would be something worth seeing.

In short, you're annoying, too old for primetime television, and obviously self-obsessed. Please do us all a favor and stop pretending you're impressive and/or important. And please stop with the incessant commercials. No one gives a damn.

Hoping a naked picture of you pops up on the internet so your baby-sized peen is public knowledge,
Penelope Ann

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