Dear Drew,

Stop. Please, stop. Stop trying to act. It’s not working, and you’re ruining the movie. When you were a child, it was kind of cute to watch you struggle through your lines. But now that you’re an adult, all the charm is gone. That lithpy way you thpeak is thho irritating. How ’bout spending some of those millions of dollars of yours on a speech therapist?

And get this: I’ve just discovered that Drew Barrymore is set to play Darlene in the adaptation of the classic novel, “A Confederacy Of Dunces.” Well, all I can say is, had John Kennedy Toole not taken his own life already, I certainly wouldn’t blame him now. Drew Barrymore sucks.

“You know what you need? Some exercise. Maybe a little weightlifting, possibly some cardio. Hey, I’ve got an idea. I was planning on building a patio this weekend. You should come over, pick up a hammer, get some fresh air. It’ll teach you a thing or two about carpentry. And who knows, you might even get a tan. So, whattaya say?”

I’m sorry. Do I have “idiot” stamped on my forehead again? Rather than try to convince me of all the benefits of manual labor, just be honest. Tell me how desperately you need my help. Of course, a good bribe never hurts. Try offering to buy me lunch or something. Just be humble about it. Because nothing pisses me off more (today, at least) than some bullshit artist trying to get a favor out of me. People Who Can’t Ask suck.

Yesterday, I was feeling hungry. So I tossed a frozen quesadilla into the microwave and let it do its thing. Forty-five seconds later, I had a semi-soft tortilla with partially melted cheese. Which got me to thinking: Was this really any more convenient than making my own quesadilla? There was no meat that needed to be cooked. No chopped chiles. Just a fuckin’ tortilla and some shredded jalapeño cheese. But apparently, there’s a market for this kind of idiot food. It’s not enough that you can buy already-cooked tortillas and pre-shredded cheese. Some morons just can’t figure out how to put the two together. Mainly, me. Overly-Convenient Foods suck.

The RIAA is on the attack. They’re pissed off about this whole song-swapping bullshit, and now they’re going to do something about it. Mainly, sue grandmas and 12-year-old girls. But at least it’s progress. Sure, the RIAA are a bunch of dicks for pulling shit like this. But have you heard what the people named in the lawsuits are saying?

“I didn’t know it was illegal.”

Wait a minute, downloading songs from Kazaa is illegal? Who woulda thunk. I mean, that whole Napster fiasco might have been a clue. But, apparently, not everyone in this world is that bright. Not that it matters. As I’ve learned too many times in traffic school, ignorance of the law does not make you innocent. If you speed through a 25 MPH zone, you’re guilty, whether you knew it was illegal or not. And if you download songs or DivX files, you could be facing some hefty fines.

So am I saying what the RIAA is doing is a good thing? Not at all. I’m just saying that most of these people knew damn well what risks they were taking when they chose to download a few hundred songs and not pay for them. They thought the RIAA would never go after them. They called their bluff. Now they have to pay for it. Ignorant Thieves suck.

If you’d like to find out more about this whole RIAA thing, TechTV is broadcasting a show about it this Friday at 8PM (7 Central) called Music Wars. Afterwards, they’re supposed to have a live town-hall-style debate. Could be interesting. Or it could suck.

For those of you who aren’t geeks, a “mod” is PC-user lingo for any modification made to a computer’s case or components. It’s sort of like buying a cheap Honda, then lowering it, adding HID headlamps, boring out the engine and adding low-profile tires and a kick-ass sound system. The only problem is, after all that invested time and money, it’s still just a Honda.

Now, while some PC users are satisfied with maxing out their RAM and installing the hottest graphics card, some aren’t. They use lasers to cut logos into the side of their computer case. They install plexiglas windows and illuminate the interior with blue lights. And some even pay top dollar for a custom paint job. The only problem: After all that investment, it’s still just a PC. PC Mods suck.

You disagree? Then say something about it.

You awaken with a smile from a wonderful dream. The sun beams through the window shades, casting the first morning’s shadows. After a satisfying yawn and good stretch, you swing your legs around to let your bare feet touch the cool hardwood floor.

The scent of freshly brewed coffee–a Viennese Roast–taps you on the nose and beckons you to follow like a classic Warner Brothers cartoon. And you obey, sleepily padding your way through the living room towards the kitchen door, imagining how satisfying it’s going to be to pour that steaming liquid into your mug. To listen to the pitch slowly rise as the java makes its way towards the lip of the cup. And to savor that aroma as you lift the mug to your –

“Uh-oww! Motherfuh–!”

Something stops you in your tracks. Your big toe has had a major collision with a much harder object: The leg of a chair. At first, the damaged digit only tingles a bit. It seems the shock is much worse than the pain. But then you realize it just takes a while for the message of agony to make its way up your spine. And before you know it, you’re hopping around the house, screaming every obscenity known in the English language (and perhaps slipping into some made-up Italian). Yes, you’ve done it again. You’ve stubbed your big toe. It’s a pain you know too well. And, yet, you never seem to get used to it. The Toe Jam sucks.

There’s a reason why people shop online: Convenience. You find what you need. Enter a credit card number. And you’re done.

But what if that item you’re purchasing happens to be a gift? Amazon.com says, no problem. For just a slight extra charge, they’ll wrap up your present and even attach a nice gift card with a personal message inside. Sounds like you’re home free.

If only it were that easy.

Amazon doesn’t tell you what that so-called “gift wrap” actually is: A large, decorative cloth bag with a white-ribbon drawstring. It’s great for really large items, but incredibly lame for smaller ones (they just float around inside there like the last gift in Santa’s sack). Which means, you have a choice: Either deal with the embarrassment of presenting the bulky gift bag to your loved one. Or untie the ribbon and wrap the damn thing yourself. Guess which one I did. The Amazon Gift Bag sucks.

Make a statement and lower the value of your property, all at the same time. I’m speaking, of course, of the wonderful invention known as the “bumper sticker.” Yes, thanks to this marvelous medium, you can be assured that anyone who gets within five feet of the rear of your vehicle will receive your message, loud and clear: “My Child Was Student Of The Hour At St. Marks Preschool!” “Honk If You Love Obnoxiously Loud Noises!” “My Other Car Is Also A Piece Of Crap.” And other equally inane phrases. Easy to put on. Impossible to get off. The bumper sticker is not for the easily-swayed. So, if you’ve got something you want to say, and you’re quite certain that you’ll never change your mind about it, put it in writing and glue it to your car. Adhesive Advertisements suck.

Day-Glo colors. Whimsical ties. Oversized jackets. If you see any of these fashions on your comedian, you can be certain of one thing: You’re in for some really bad humor. Jokes about airline food. Quips regarding the weight and circumference of another’s mother. And let’s not forget the old standby: A gag about the VCR flashing 12:00 all the time. Yeah, better save that one for the closer. So what’s with the crazy getups? It’s like they’re trying to make up for what they’re lacking in originality: “Hey, my material may be worn-out, but check out these hilarious suspenders!” Comic Couture sucks.

Look, there’s a reason why I chose writing as a profession: My math skills suck. That’s why nothing pisses me off more than when I have to have to add, subtract, multiply or divide when someone could’ve saved me the trouble.

Like why do parents insist on referring to their baby’s age in months after a year is up?

“He’s adorable. How old is he?”

“Eighteen months.”

Uh, okay, let’s see, eighteen divided by twelve…is uh, oh! One and a half! Why didn’t you just say that in the first place? Or are you trying to give me an aneurism?

But the one I really hate is how the duration of almost all films is listed in minutes, rather than hours and minutes. Okay, 112 minutes. That’s, uh… damn. Well, it’s not two hours. I know that. Subtract 60. That leaves, what, 52? An hour and fifty-two minutes! Do I get a gold star now?

Why must everyone remind me of how arithmetically challenged I am? Unnecessary Math sucks.