Dear Happy Madison Productions,
This will be the hardest letter I've ever written. I have wrestled with this for a long time, but recent events have finally given me the strength to move on with my life. I may have loved you at some point, or maybe I just let my love of "Happy Gilmore" and "Billy Madison" blind me to who you really were, but I just know that I don't love you anymore. Our relationship is over.
I know the first thing you'll be thinking is that it's because of your friends. And that's true to a small degree. I mean, I do like David Spade and Chris Rock, most of the time. But it's your insistence on bringing Rob Schneider everywhere with you that really soured me. I mean, just because I loved you, I was willing to suffer through "Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo". I even tried to watch "The Animal" and "The Hot Chick", although I'll admit that I couldn't even gather up the strength to sit through "Deuce Bigalow: European Gigolo". In the earlier stages of our relationship, it was cute when Rob would pop up and make a short, funny joke - I'll admit that I laughed. But I grew up, and he hasn't. And by continuing to thrust him into the spotlight, you've shown that you haven't either.
Rob's just one small part of our issues, though. The main reason is you. You started out full of promise and hopes and dreams and you've just slowly gotten lazy and sloppy and the way you've let yourself go is getting to me. I don't even want to be seen with you! Sure, "Little Nicky" had some shortfalls, but it was a good effort, and I still loved it even though it wasn't perfect. And when you followed that up with "Joe Dirt", which I loved, I was impressed and believed in your dreams. "Mr. Deeds" was solid, but mediocre. I still supported you, though - remember when I told everyone I loved it and couldn't wait until your next one? But then that bit me in the ass. I mean, "Anger Management"? How did you manage to fuck up anything with Jack Nicholson in it?
It was at that point that I thought I might be falling out of love with you. I was considering taking a break - you could go do some serious films and I would check out what Woody Allen was doing, but then you semi-redeemed yourself by being romantic (like you used to be with "The Wedding Singer"), and "50 First Dates" was enough of a reason to erase my doubts. For a little while, though.
Since then, though, it's just been a downward spiral. I'll admit that I'm somewhat at fault, here. I listened to my head instead of my heart and lied to you when I said that I liked "The Benchwarmers", "Click", and "I Now Pronounce You Chuck & Larry." But I didn't. I didn't even watch them!
The last straw, however, was today's embarrassment. I walked in on "You Don't Mess With the Zohan" and saw you with *sob* a horrible premise! And bad acting! And not a single joke for two whole hours! And I sat there and didn't laugh and wanted to cry and realized that I couldn't even tap into my deepest emotions to wring out one drop of love for you anymore.
I'm sorry to do this by letter, but last time I talked to you on the phone you roped me into a thirty-minute conversation about whether or not shampoo or conditioner was better. I just can't play these games with you anymore. We're through.
Love,
Me
P.S. There's someone new in my life - Apatow Productions - so please be happy for me.
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