An open letter to Tara Reid:

I've seen a couple of interviews of you crying over how you suffered after a botched plastic surgery. Or two.
Do us all a favor -- get over yourself.
It's difficult for me to muster any sympathy for someone who chose to go under the knife of his or her own volition. As the carney told me once before I bounced three darts off the same under-inflated balloon, "You pays your money, you takes your chances."
I mean, it's not like you were some hideous hosebeast before. You were just a little flat-chested (speaking of under-inflated), and that apparently bothered you, casting directors and Tom Brady enough for you to upgrade from Twiggy to Dolly Parton.
Lots of men don't mind smaller breasts, and tons more prefer them to boobs that look and feel like a rotting canteloupe.
And it's not like you had some disfigurement that was making it difficult for you to make a living and feel comfortable in society. You do have Dr. T and the Women on your resume, but people will eventually forget about that one, I promise.
But I digress. Tara, you made your choice -- a stupid, selfish and ill-advised choice -- and you'll have to live with the consequences.
I do have a way for you to possibly put your situation in better perspective, though. I'd suggest you stop by any local hospital and ask to speak with someone who has just undergone a double mastectomy.
Tell her how awful it was to have a little scar tissue around your nipple and how traumatized you are.
Then duck.