An Open Letter to Ms. Tila Tequila

Dear Tila,

You know what would have been really good television? You and Casey flying up to Idaho to get married, only to find that Idaho hasn’t legalized gay marriage yet. It would have been cute! You could have flown up to Coeur d’Alene, gone to a sympathetic minister of a gay-positive congregation, she would have broken the bad news, told you that you were thinking of Iowa, not Idaho, and you would shrug, have sex in a hot tub with Casey that night, and fly to Iowa the next day.

What has happened instead of that? Yeah. Shit sucks, doesn’t it?

Look, I’m not here to judge you. I’m not one of those conspiracy theorists that think Courtney killed Kurt, nor do I think Yoko broke up The Beatles. In fact, that kind of conjecture offends me to the point where I do my best to believe the opposite. Courtney’s got problems, but Kurt had his own, too. Yoko had influence in John Lennon’s life, but John was perfectly capable of making his own decisions.

People are going to say you’re responsible for Casey’s death. Truth of the matter is, she’s most likely responsible for her own. Unless there’s some late-breaking news that you switched her insulin with smack and PCP, I’m gonna call this a tragic accident.

Something all U-Haul lipstick lesbians should know, though, maybe something to tuck away in a bedside book: Fiancees are supposed to care about each other. If you knew she was living in filth and behind on the bills, you could have told her, “Baby, this ring is fabulous, but if it’s real, I think you should sell it, get that house cleaned up, sell THAT, and then maybe buy me a ring when it’s all over. We’ll do it together.”

If the ring is real, I mean. Hopefully it’s worth at least getting the water turned back on.

I know bitches like to talk, and sometimes it’s fun to give ‘em shit to talk about, but girl. Come on. If you’re gonna go crazy on camera after your fiancee’s death, smiling-crazy isn’t as photogenic as a crying, swollen face. They like to see their starlets suffer. You may think you’re denying them that. And getting them angry probably gives you a thrill. Whatever rolls your socks up and down, girl.

But I guarantee you, should you live to see your mid-thirties, Histrionic Personality Disorder has a way of kinda smoothing out by then. Try not to do anything irreversible. Fuck these looky-loos anyway. Get away for a while and do some thinking.

And for god’s sake, please don’t get pregnant. It does take a toll on one’s body, which is pretty much about 50% of your assets right now. And besides, pregnancy does a number on you if you’ve already got some psychological problems. Just trust me on this one.

There is one thing I do hope your detractors could take away from all this, and that is this: QUIT PUTTING “FIANCEE” IN QUOTES WHEN IT’S A SAME SEX COUPLE. Seriously, nothing will make my capslock stick worse than that shit. Nobody ever put any fucking quotes around it when it was Britney Spears and Jason Allen Alexander, even though the actual marriage lasted only a little longer than a weekend. Yes, people, gay people can get married, and in some states, even to each other! Putting quotes around it just because it involves lesbians you don’t like? What, did you get that out of the Fake AP Stylebook? Did it say, “Put fiancee in quotes when referring to lesbian/gay couples, or any of Britney Spears’ prospects”?

Anyway, look. It’s sad that Casey’s dead. Nobody grieves the same way, and I’m betting there was something real there. But even if it wasn’t, it isn’t up to us out here to say so. Sure we can conjecture, maybe we can make some bad jokes. The less witty of us will just call names. That’s what we do.

But you can choose to do something different, too. Find yourself an image consultant, a psychiatrist, and maybe a small house in some nondescript town for a while. Be Tila Nguyen for a minute.

I root for the trainwrecks. It’s my job here at OddCulture. Because every once in a while, someone will walk out of that trainwreck a better person than they were before it.

A girl can dream.

Anyway, good luck, and DON’T GET PREGNANT.

Love,
Glossolalia Black