Dear America:
I am writing to you today with a very important message: Go f–k yourself.
I mean no disrespect. But really, go f–k yourself.
I am 23-years old. For the last 15 years, all I have done is swim. I get in the pool, I get out of the pool, I get in the pool, I get out of the pool. It has been soooooo fucking boring, I can’t even begin to describe … well, wait. Let me try. Imagine working at a cardboard factory for 17 hours per day, sans lunch break. Imagine being the guy who puts the caps on pens. Imagine you’re the dope hired to fill Twinkies with the goop. One Twinkie after another after another. Well, that’s me. That’s my life. One ceaseless conveyor belt of Twinkies.
I know … I know—I won eight gold medals, and y’all would give your right arm to do the same and I’m an ingrate and a moron and blah, blah, blah. But guess how many girls I’ve kissed in the past, oh, 10 years. Guess! Wanna know the answer? Two—my mom, and Dara Torres after taping an HBO show. Guess how many vacations I’ve taken? Zero. How many dates I’ve gone on? Zero. How many drunken nights on South Beach I’ve had? Zero. My life is soooooo boring, you wouldn’t even believe it. Seriously, seriously dull.
So do me a friggin’ favor and shove your box of Special K up your a–. You don’t want me shilling coffee machines for you? Fine. You don’t wanna pay me big bucks to wear your watch? Big s–t. I’m tired of this garbage, and I’m not gonna take it anymore.
Now pass me the bong, bitch. I’m going out to get laid.
Sincerely,
Michael Phelps
U.S. Olympic Swim Team
PS: To the good folk at Speedo who made me pose for the above picture, look at me. Seriously, look at me. I don’t care how much you’re paying, I’m never wearing that stupid thing again.
