Get the Eff Out of My COCKtail, Marilyn Manson

Dear Marilyn, **

You are seriously a genius.

I'm not being sarcastic or snarky either...I mean it. You're like a living, breathing marketing experiment and the world is your willing puppet. Your name is Brian and you grew up suburban fucking Ohio. Mix one part pancake make-up and black eyeliner with two parts naming yourself after a serial killer and, voila...you're a superstar. Throw in some anti-christ BS for good measure, talk about blood a lot in your "songs" and stop eating = e-d-g-y. And now you're making fucking Absinthe?! Absinthe made in Switzerland in some dark, dank castle I presume?

Totally.

Brilliant.

Let's list your qualifications for Absinthe maker: you are weird, dark, scary and wear black smudgy make-up. I'm sure you booze it up constantly, so I will spot you that. Based on this formula, I'm volunteering myself to endorse and/or develop my own line of the following products: Spanx (chubby thighs, check!); Goody hairbands (constant ponytail, check!); the SAT's (I'm smart, uh huh!); Pinkberry flavor (ob-sessed!).

Anyway, let it be known, Bri-guy, that Mansinthe is both completely ridiculous and Shear Genius.

L'Chaim,
m.

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