First, are you our sort of person?
Have you ever gotten
(please check all that apply): your teeth whitened, botox, or hair extensions,
Breast implants (cause that B cup wasn’t good enough),
A nose job or a face-lift,

Your nails done French? No, no? Then
How can we give you an acting career?
You should be crying by now, able to cry on demand
What sort of actress would you be? Senator Clinton can shed a tear
Better than you…there now, here is a camera

To catch you off guard
To bring millions enjoyment at your expense
And whatever you tell it,
You can be assured, will be twisted into lies
It is guaranteed

To find you in places remote
Behind your big, black sunglasses.
We make mince meat from girls like you.
I notice you are overdressed.
How about this Dior mini and Lacoste polo shirt----

You need to work on your thighs, but not a bad fit (kudos for me, for guessing a size six!).
Will you wear this haute couture?
It is armor, style not trend, protecting you
Against nasty comments and “worst dressed” photographs on the cover of National Inquirer
Believe me; they’ll assault you with worlds and accusations that cut like knives.

Now your head, excuse me, is too full of knowledge.
Be a blonde Bilbo, that’s hot!

Buzz in Mr. Spielberg, please.
Well what do you think of her?
She is a newbie, that’s for sure.

But in a year, she’ll have a show on Disney Channel,
In five, a bad singing career.
Her face on billboards, everywhere you look.
She can act, she can pose,
She can talk, talk, talk about air headed things.

She will work hard, she’s a quick study.
You need an extra, she is the filler.
You need a new celebrity, she is a pretty face.
Mr. Spielberg, she is not half bad.
Will you sign here, sign here, sign here on the dotted line.