Dear Seth Rogen

People are coming up with strange excuses to see me.  Ever since my recent House of Blues show with Jeff Garlin and professional wrestling legend “Rowdy” Roddy Piper, I have had a bit more notoriety.

I feel my world is changing, Seth Rogen.  I always knew this day would come, when I would cross over from a “Dime A Dozen Deb” to a minor celebrity, on my way to eventual superstardom.  But the excuses people come up with are getting a bit far fetched.

For example, the other day, as I was sitting down at my computer to research Scottish kilt fabrics, my cell phone rang.  It was my friend Casey, begging me to unlock my door and let him in.  You see, Seth Rogen, Casey was on his way home from lunch at Sharky’s Mexican Grill.  Casey tends to dine at establishments such as Sharky’s, Chick-Fil-A, and Poquito Mas, none of which comply with the all-organic diet that I practice and my Libertarian father scoffs at.   Anyhow, Casey claimed that Sharky’s had upset his stomach and he was demanding to use my toilet for fear that he might not make it to his own.

Now, Seth Rogen, rather than ridicule Casey, and point out that he lives only a few blocks away, I took his bathroom request as a compliment.  I did what I assume any budding celebrity would do: I played along.  I know what to do when a friend needs to poo.  I locked the dogs in the bedroom, I made sure there was an ample supply of Quilted Northern (a better deal than Charmin Ultra when you consider the amount of 2-ply sheets per roll), put out my best magazines, unlocked the front door, and waited.

Casey played his part well.  He came running into my apartment as though it were a true emergency and he was in for a potentially embarrassing and messy episode.  But, Seth Rogen, as an actor myself, I was able to see right through his charade.  As I said, his commode is just down the street.  No one has to go that bad, right?

I stopped to think if there might be another reason aside from my celebrity that would be causing this fiasco.  Could it be my bathroom?  I doubt it.  You see, I just have an ordinary porcelain toilet bowl.  It is not as if I have one of those fancy vinyl cushioned toilet seats that your grandmother probably has.  You know, the kind that hugs your tush when you sit.  And I definitely don’t have a high tech Japanese toilet that heats your seat and cleans your undercarriage while playing you electronic music.  I realize a lot of celebrities have those.  Whoopie swears by hers.

This is just the start, I suppose.  Being a celebrity sure is hard work.  How do you handle it?  Do a lot of people come over your place to poop?  We can discuss it further at tonight’s show at “3 of Clubs.”  I’m getting all flushed just thinking about it, L.O.L.   Get it?  Flushed?  Like a toilet?   …Oh Seth Rogen, you are such a kidder.

Until then…

Debbie