Dear Meg White,
You are hot. You are a rockstar. Ergo, you are a hot rockstar and prone to lapses of sanity and emotional stability. We all understand this, just as we all understand that "accute anxiety" is code for something much more sad, and you know what, none of us is really in the place to judge you. BUT WHY THE FUCK did you have to catch "accute anxiety" disorder right before my hometown's glorified rock festival, Austin City Limits Fest, the first of many dates you have cancelled. Is it because Jack is now married and happy with a 20 something year old Brasilian modela? For that matter, are the three of you in a love triangle? Are you actually his sister or former wife? De veras, no me importa, Meg. You have deprived me of rocking the FUCK OUT to this guy, who happens to be wearing an admiral/pirate hat, a universal sartorial paragon of tightness. I guess there is an opening now for the stage across Arcade Fire. Pepper, hop on a plane with yer banjo.
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