Dear Suri Cruise,
How's it flyin', Port Wine? It's me, Shiloh, your sworn rival in the battle for the title of America's Sweetheart.
Listen, Cruise, I know we didn't exactly get started off on the right Baby Blahnik-clad foot, but I'm reaching out to you now, OK? I'm reaching out my goddamn gorgeous pink hand to you because I need a friend right now. We just got the new issue of Elle here at one of our palatial estates and it included the following quote from my Moms:
"I think I feel so much more for Mad and Z because they're survivors, they came through so much. Shiloh seemed so privileged from the moment she was born. I have less inclination to feel for her… I met my other kids when they were six months old, they came with personality. A newborn really is this… yes, a blob! But now she's starting to have a personality… I'm conscious that I have to make sure I don't ignore her needs just because I think the others are more vulnerable."
What. The. Fuck.
Surely you understand my desperation, Suri Cruise. I have no one else to turn to! And you being roughly my age (though you'll always be a month older, never forget that) and also having two older adopted siblings, you know, I just thought that maybe you'd be able to help me out. I'm seven months old and my life is the only one I've ever known. This quote of Momgelina's is a real eye-opener, and I've started questioning some of the practices that go on around here. Practices I'd previously accepted as, you know, just the way the world works. Now I'm not so sure. So tell me, do your parents tell you, "You ain't so pretty, so don't get a swoll head" thrice daily? No? Oh. Do your parents take your brother and sister to countries to frolic in fields with other children while you sit at home in a playpen, slowly dragging a tin cup across the bars because the sound is your only friend? No? Hm. Well, around your house, do you spend your play hour in a hot room that simulates the searing clime of countries south of the border, sitting in a hot diaper rag with your own stewing filth, so you can empathize with your siblings' first few months on this earth? You don't?
It's just as I thought.
There's only one way to fix this problem, and that's with another biological baby. An ally; an equal. My mom is on the Pill, so the chances are slim. What I need is magic. Scientological magic. Do you think you could get your hands on some of that baby-growing formula that those nice men implanted into your mom's belly with that plastic squirt thingie? I'd really be much obliged. My entire future hangs in the balance. I'm not a blob, OK? I'm freaking gorgeous! Help me, Suri Cruise. You're my only hope.
Your comrade,
Shiloh Jolie-Pitt Shiloh Pitt
Shiloh's mama is naked at MrSkin.com.
And so's Suri's mom.
