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Dear Seth Rogen,

I hate to report that I am in the midst of a family feud.  And what’s worse, the family that I am feuding with has no idea that we are feuding.  This family that I speak of is my own.  Specifically, my father.  That’s right, Seth Rogen, my dad - the man who is friends with your parents’ friend and the one whose existence connected us in the first place - is now vying for his piece of my “celebrity pie”… which happens to be pumpkin flavored for the holiday. 

I know this must sound very confusing to you.  I can understand that.  How is it even possible for a father to begrudge his daughter the celebrity that she worked so hard for?  How would a father even attempt to compete with his daughter?  Well, Seth Rogen, leave it to my father, with his cunning yet crazy medical libertarian genius, to find a way.

My father, who once told me that I am the new face of comedy, is attempting to become the new face of medicine.  Literally.  You see, John C. Lincoln, a big Phoenix hospital, has decided to promote their surgical services with billboards.  These billboards use the face of a local doctor to  establish a sense of familiarity and compassion.  John C. Lincoln asked my dad to provide his tender mug for the billboard, and he was only too eager to pounce on the opportunity.  Now, when Phoenix drivers head down loop 101, they are forced to take their eyes off the road in order to view the 20’ x 30’ Richard Dreyfus look-a-like that is my father.  On particularly bright days the sun will reflect off his shiny forehead, blind drivers, cause a traffic accident, and result in new customers for John C. Lincoln.  Brilliant.



Back in Hollywood, I have only become the new face of comedy in the figurative sense.  My agent assures me that I am a star, and explains that the reason I don’t get called in for auditions at the moment has nothing to do with a lack of funny.  I probably don’t get called in, because at my level, an audition really isn’t necessary.  I’ll simply be notified when a roll is created for me.  But it’s not fair, Seth Rogen.   In my father’s line of work, he has so many more opportunities to become a household name.  It’s not as if actresses and comedians have the same opportunities to have their faces plastered on large signs.  Unlike a surgeon, a comedian must actually do hard work to get recognized.

Seth Rogen, I don’t know what to do.  My brother-in-law, Matt, was recently featured in the local Palo Alto paper for his veterinary tech skills, but his story was humbly tucked away on page 17.  Matt understands where the spotlight in the family is meant to land and he didn’t push for the front page or a gaudy billboard. 


How do I tell my dad that I am uncomfortable with his desperate need to compete with me to become the most successful Singer?  I mean, a little competition is healthy, but I don’t want him to get hurt.  He is simply a general surgeon in one of the most prestigious major medical groups, and I think it’s pretty obvious who would win that battle. ;)   What would you do?  You’re always there when I need you.



Debbie

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Dear Seth Rogen,

I’m exhausted. My days and nights have been spent analyzing photographs. Photo analysis isn’t a typical hobby of mine, but I recently hosted a murder mystery dinner party.  I’m sure my dad’s friend’s friend forwarded you the invitation. The theme was Lights! Camera! Murder!  (©nightofmystery.com) It was really quite decadent, Seth Rogen.

The dinner party was a post-Oscar potluck. We were all assigned fictional characters. I was Miss Vanity Affair, a millionaire vying for the spotlight since childhood. Ever since my fictional parents died five years ago and left me their fortune, I have been throwing the most elite Hollywood Oscar parties. Anyone who is anyone is in attendance. That’s why I invited you, Seth Rogen!



Well, part way through the night the murder took place. The guests and I spent the rest of the evening sleuthing in an attempt to uncover the murderer. All this sleuthing got my mind racing and then it dawned on me. Seth Rogen, you were most likely at my Oscar party without me even knowing it. All the guests came in costume and introduced themselves as their murder mystery alias. A talented actor like you would never have broken character. So, this is why I have spent so much time analyzing and reanalyzing the photos. Were you M.C. Award? J.J. Scoop? Young Starlet, perhaps? Could you have been the murderer himself? Come to think of it, could Billy Joel have been there?

Whomever you were, you were rather convincing because I can’t seem to spot you in the pictures. You must have been able to raid the wardrobe of some old movie sets, huh, Seth Rogen? Great costume. Wasn’t the party just to die for? L.O.L. I’m thinking of signing up for a photo analysis course.

Until then…

Debbie