Dear Ms. Vanasco,

I would like to thank you for coming to review the premiere of my one-woman show Just Playing Me: The Return of Jereme Cullens at Cornservatory, 4210 N. Lincoln, where I will be performing Wednesdays through Saturdays at 8 PM.

Regretfully there were a few issues in your review of my aforementioned one-woman show that I would like to address. As my mother, Mavis, always taught me, a sleeping dog can bite you in the ass–especially if you sit on his face. Therefore I must refute.

First off, although I am perhaps “tedious” and “self-indulgent,” neither my life nor my show has ever been “billed as a parody,” unless of course Webster’s Dictionary has replaced the definition of “parody” with the definition of “tragedy.”

Secondly. Referring to my singing voice “like a chain-smoking Doris Day”? I know firsthand that Ms. Day, or DeeDee as I used to call her, never smoked. As a matter of fact, she was the one who inspired me to quit. You see we were both filming on the same lot at MGM. She Pillow Talk. I Nest of the Wartwoman. One day, one might say one Doris Day, she brazenly walked up to me, snatched the cigarette out of my mouth, and firmly extinguished it in my open palm. Oh the pain. The burning, hurting pain. Deep. But I digress.

Thirdly. Maybe my very exuberant, or as you called them “flamingly gay dancers,” were the highlight of the show for you, but you must understand it’s easy for them to “pout and pose.” They happen to be 20-year-olds with nubile bodies and sassy attitudes (except for Marty). Unfortunately I, on the other hand, am forced to bring to the stage the story of my “awful life.” Just remember, although people liked the movie, they didn’t much care for the part when the Titanic sank.

And finally, how dare you call my life “awful”? Have you read The Life and Times of Ann Jillian?

In conclusion, Ms. Vanasco, as you clearly stated, I was not “what you hoped for.” Such is true for much of my life. I will put you in the category with Lawrence, Mavis, Roger, Dale, and the many others who always wanted more from me. I attempted, but could not deliver. Upon this letter’s closing, I will tuck your review snugly away next to one I got for Crabzilla vs the 50 Foot Cheerleader.

Once again, thank you for your time, and God Bless America.

Ms. Jereme Cullens

PS: A bit of advice, Ms. Vanasco. Perhaps if you had spent more time watching the stage instead of canoodling with your girlfriend, maybe you wouldn’t have found the “jumpy narrative” so “confusing.”