A Letter to David Spade

By Jake

Dear Mr. Spade,

I have never been a big fan of your work. You have always come off to me as a slimy douche, even when playing second fiddle to Chris Farley. Many people heap praise upon the movies Tommy Boy and Black Sheep. I've seen both, and they are awful. You are awful in them, and I find Farley sad. Oh, a fat guy is being called fat and doing things a fat guy would do! That's not comedy. Not to me.


I have read that you have recently sired a baby. Not only that, but it was with a Playboy Playmate (like the one in House Bunny, but probably not even half as funny as Anna Ferris, just like you), Jillian Grace. This troubles me greatly.

David, I would be a monster if I didn't fear for this child. The combination of douchebag and douchette can only lead to the dreaded ultra douche. Perhaps your child is the Anti-Christ. We'll have to sit around and wait years to find out.

I am slightly relieved to know that you have not married Jillian Grace. The child in the hands of (hopefully) only one douche, may get out unscathed. Maybe the child will repress the douche gene and come out all right. Who knows.

What we really need to talk about is your career. You are awful. I read on Wikipedia that Dennis Miller got you your job on Saturday Night Live. That's a perfect example of the douche leading the douche. You two both have a lack of charm, but an overabundance of smarm. It is only fitting that he'd bring you in.

Your movie career is like a skid mark on the underwear of Hollywood. Dickie Roberts, Joe Dirt, Benchwarmers, Lost & Found and PCU. You are unworthy of the money you make and the vagina you penetrate. If your movie career was personified it would be Ryan White (post-blood transfusion).

Yet, here you are, fucking models and starring in television show after television show. You're currently on Rules of Engagement. My rule is to not watch any awful show with you on it. Or, I'd never make an engagement to see one of your awful shows.

Buh-bye,
Jacob F. Merch