Hey Bea! Hey come here, shut the door. Look I made cookies! OK, sit down. We need to talk.

Dear Bea,

I wanted to write you this letter to inform you that if you do not get help today I will close out my half of the blog.

When we first decided to create a blog together, we discussed topics like the 34th Anniversary of Roe vs. Wade, you reviewd the movie Children of Men, and the state of our country's educational system.

When you went decided that every aspect of our real identities needed to be hidden because you saw that one Lifetime Made-For-TV-movie about stalkers, I understood. In fact, you chose a name based on Shakespeare. SHAKESPEARE BEA!! But now, now I feel like I don't even know you. Your entries on Friday Night Lights, My Chemical Romance, and Supernatural are starting to worry me. I guess I should have noticed the signs when you wrote that entry about Fergie's Big Girls Don't Cry. But, to be honest, I liked that song a lot too.

At first, sure I thought it was funny. It was fun - I even wrote a little about Lindsay Lohan. But then you started prattling on about The Golden Compass and then the writer's strike happened and it seems you've plunged deeply into this, this place that I can't seem to pull you out of.
We used to write one or two blogs about our silly ways, but we peppered each entry with witty Dennis-Miller-esc comments that seemed to us to be so far above the average blogger's intelligence. Remember that, Bea? Remember when we used to be unique?

I am doing this because I love you. Because I love this blog. Because I am afraid that one day I will wake up to a blog entry written about "How Cool the VC Andrews Broken Flower Books Are." Do you know that thought keeps me up some nights? The idea of my brainy, clumsy, Lisa Loeb glasses wearing friend will start enjoying the ghost writer that has claimed our beloved VC Andrews style?

I am writing this to you today, Lady Bea, to ask you to get help. Will you get help?