Dear Ms. Lindsay:

I read your recent essay in Vulture about your desire to leave the public life and return to the peace of being a private figure. That is, I made a good faith attempt to read your insipid drivel before giving up and moving on.

Your decision to leave celebrity behind is commendable. You were the first woman of color to receive a first impression rose on The Bachelor. And being the first black Bachelorette was definitely an accomplishment. I can’t say I remember much about your season, but I treat this stuff like some folks treat sports–you keep up with the basics for polite conversation.

Anyway, despite your time on the show, you never learned one thing: when your season ends, it’s no longer about you. Nowhere was this made more clear than in the most recent season of The Bachelor with Matt James, where you started a race issue out of a non issue and ruined three lives in the process.

You found out a girl from a small town in Georgia who was in Matt’s final four of suitable women posed in photos at an antebellum-themed party while in college. In 2018. Now since you were born in Texas, I’m sure you’ve heard of a movie called “Gone With the Wind.” Since you were a sorority girl at one point, maybe you had some friends float an idea about wearing big poofy dresses to a party.

Or maybe not, since you’re the virtuous moral compass of a show devoted to one person dating thirty people at a time.

Anyway, it was really telling where your head was at when you decided to drop your gotcha moment on Chris Harrison during a segment on Extra:

“What are your thoughts about Rachael Kirkconnell and the allegations attached to her?” I asked. A simple question about a situation that was anything but. Weeks prior, Kirkconnell, the soon-to-be winner of Matt James’s season, was revealed to have attended an antebellum-themed fraternity formal in 2018. There were photos. Nobody had made a statement — not Rachael, not Chris, not the network. I wanted to know how the franchise felt now that one of the final four contestants on the first Black Bachelor was engulfed in a race controversy. I wanted someone to acknowledge it. (Emphasis mine)

So it was all about you from the start. Now before your gotcha segment you might have noticed Matt James, Rachel K’s then boyfriend, asking for some grace here too.

But that never stopped you from making an issue about you, did it Rachel? Let’s check the video.

One minute and twenty-two seconds into the video, you finish asking Chris Harrison, “If I went to that party, what would I represent at that party?” It might be a fair question if you were. But you weren’t, and none of this was your concern until you decided to inject yourself into a manufactured controversy.

And what of the three lives you ruined in your solipsistic rampage in TV Land? Let’s start with Rachel Kirkconnell, who is basically persona non grata and a racist because you said so. She lost her fiancee on live television, was forced to participate in an ABC endorsed Struggle Session on live television and was canceled.

Then there’s Matt James, who got the same scarlet R as his fiancee but tried to atone for it by growing a beard that makes him look homeless. He dumped his fiancee on live television and then the two somehow found their way back together, or so I hear.

But then there’s Chris Harrison, your self-described “fairy godfather,” who lost his job thanks to you after twenty years. You even had to make the eight figure settlement about you, Rachel, stating the “Bachelor Klan” would blame you if Harrison burned through that money.

After you made quite the tidy sum lecturing America on racial injustice during a summer of “mostly peaceful protests” that saw billions in property damage while you listened to podcasts on the Bose sound system in the Cadillac SUV paid for by sponsored Instagram posts.

Now you’re headed back to the private sector because celebrity is too tiresome for you. I am sorry you’re so exhausted and I wish you the best in your private life. I’m also glad you and I never had a cross word between us, because if we did I might have said some stuff about you that might really hurt your feelings.

WARNING: before anyone gets butthurt in the comments remember these are jokes. Satire. Parody. In no way meaning to slut-shame or condemn Ms. Lindsay. Remember, the defense…I mean excuse…is parody. P-A-R-O-D-Y. Now back to the jokes.

I never said, for example, that you’ve had more dicks in you than a Madison Square Garden urinal.

I never said if you and your husband had a child it would be named “Target” because everyone’s had a shot.

I never told the world about the horrible chipped teeth you suffered when you tried to have sex with a vibrator.

I never revealed that after sex the first thing you usually say is “So all of you are on the same team?”

I never asked my readers what the difference between you and a rooster was.
Similarly, I never told my readers one says “Cock-a-doodle-doo” while the other says “Any cock will do!”

No. Since we had no reason to speak unkindly to reach other, I never said any of that.

Enjoy your private life, Ms. Lindsay. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.

In the words of Jim Cornette, “Thank you, fuck you, bye-bye.”

To everyone else: have a great weekend!