Heckletters: Write To Charlotte Church

It’s Monday, folks, and therefore it’s heckletter time - that special moment in which all you have to do is fill in the blanks on a letter already written before posting /emailing/ courier-pigeoning it off to the celebrity in question. Nice of us, we know, but no thanks is needed - your innocent glee is gratitude enough.

This week we present you with the chance to spit some venom at warbling drunkard Charlotte Church (CDs).

Sound good? Then here’s what ye shall be sendin’ …

Dear Charlotte,

Hello. My name is ___________. Like everyone else, I found your coming-of-age descent into ‘party girl’ alcoholism a bit of a laugh at first. Seeing an arrogant young madam like yourself looking cross-eyed and worse for wear across the front of every newspaper had a certain karmic twinge to it - what sociologists refer to as ‘bringing you down a peg or two’.

It was fun at first.

But now?

Now, Charlotte, I’m tired. So very, very tired. Tired of every media outlet chronicling your car-crash relationship with that Snowdon-quiffed Rugby Monkey you haul around. Tired of your ghastly attempts to reinvent yourself as a pop singer, by way of recording an album so unexciting it could put on a tie and work in Natwest. Tired of your dead-eyed soulless pap haunting us from every billboard and every magazine cover.

So tired, Charlotte.

God, how you grind me down.

Yours Wearily,

Mr/Mrs/Ms _________________________

There you go. Just scribble down that John Hancock and you’re all set.

Same time next week? Oh, alright, then.

[story by C J Davies]