Fuck You, Bloom!

I moved to Los Angeles about 2 years ago to pursue a career in producing TV and/or Film. All and all, the transition was extremely smooth: found a great apartment in a convenient area, live next to several of my friends from home and college, found a great job to get my foot in the proverbial "door". Everything was as good as can be.

That was until IT happened...

I was finishing up on my usual Saturday routine: Wake up around 7am, scramble some eggwhites, volunteer at the children's hospital for several hours, then go sprinting around Venice Beach. (I know you are asking yourself why I don't say "jogging". Well, it's because I don't jog. I litterally sprint at full speed for miles)

As I finished up mile 10 of my SPRINT, I stopped at the water fountain, mind you I wasn't thirsty in the least, but I just figured I might need some water. A couple tweens started shouting and running towards me yelling "Orlando! Oh my god Orlando!"

At first, I thought I must have been suffering from heat exhaustion (as it was nearly 95 degrees out and I had just SPRINTED 10 miles).

I didn't know what the fuck was going on. Why were they calling me "Orlando"? So, I just kind of stood there as the two tweens bombarded me with their camera phones taking pictures of me.

It took a few moments and a couple peculiar comments like "I'm so jealous of Kiera" and "You are our favorite! You are way hotter than Depp!" for me to finally put the pieces together...

Fuck! These bitches think I'm Orlando Bloom!

Well, since this was the FIRST time it had happened I played along, not wanting to disappoint them. I signed their shirts, took their pictures, banged one of them...you know, whatever.

But a weird thing happened; from that moment on I kept on being mistaken for god-damn Orlando fucking Bloom.

So set the record straight - I AM NOT ORLANDO BLOOM!

Do I look like Orland? No. No, I certainly do not look EXACTLY like him.














Do I carry around a fucking sword and bow-and-arrow every where I go? Not anymore I don't! (Again, thanks Orlando.)


A lot of people have been wondering why I don't go out as much as I used to, why I don't like to party anymore. Well, this is why! Every time I go to a club women and MEN keep approaching me asking, "Can I buy you a drink, Orlando?", "Want to get out of here and do some coke and anal?" (again, this is from both men and women). And sure, at the beginning, I took them ALL up on their offers. But FRANKly, it got extremely old, FAST.

I just want to be able to go out and not get molested by hundreds of people.

The BIG BROTHER program won't even let me take out my little brother ISAAC anymore. They say it isn't healthy for him to be exposed to such crazy-zealous fans and paparazzi.

So I beg you. Please stop thinking I'm Orlando Bloom.

I'm not a shitty actor and I also don't have an accent. Thanks.

xoxo

Fween