Tom Thumb

Dear Tom,

You were born in Douchebag, New York, a small town with a population of just one. After narrowly avoiding the Catholic priesthood, you inexplicably rose to fame and now live in a $35 million dwelling with its own postcode, a dozen bedrooms and 50 closets.

In Mission Impossible, your unconvincing performance made us want to self destruct in 5 seconds. In Top Gun you took our breath away with your lack of talent. In Jerry Maguire they certainly showed you the money, and you showed us that you are capable only of portraying a man who will experience a moral dilemma only to have his course righted by an attractive woman.

Your one redeeming feature, apart from being outrageously good looking in Mission Impossible, is just one minute of first class cinema. You may have been nominated for your Academy Awards, your Oscars and Golden Lady Statue awards but this is the only good thing you will ever do on screen.

For someone so diametrically opposed to the use of mind altering substances, you have a lot to answer for. Freak. You are the walking embodiment of that once noble proposition, the American Dream. You are certainly familiar with the colour of money, with an estimated net worth of $250 million and you did it despite your elfin proportions, complete absence of charm, gargantuan ego and “religious” leanings that are tantamount to a diagnosis of the variety your church denies the existence of. Snaps to you.

But seriously Tom, what’s with the insipid women? You managed to stay married to the most ghostly woman alive for over a decade! Then after a brief flirtation with sexiness as CruiseCruz, you reverted back to your old ways, this time with an even more ridiculous moniker TomKat. And while admittedly you have made a stunning child named for a scientist whose theories you couldn’t begin to understand, one can only surmise that Suri was delivered by a Hubbardite spacecraft of some kind. That or genetically modified.

It was said in 2006 that you are the most influential celebrity in the world, and yet only a minority would report even liking you. I can’t put my finger, or thumb on what it is that is so offensive about you but I throw a gauntlet at you for being an arrogant riddle wrapped in a short man, inside a botox enigma.

Kyrani