It's all about me: I am beyond irked by the immense irrelevance of the It Girl. Interesting would be a feature on the CIA tagging homeless dude, or a story on all of the corruption in the Tempe City Council, or the rise of neo-fascists like the Minutemen, or Sheriff Joe and Andrew Thomas' war on immigrants. Hell, an article on me would suffice. So, if you would like to do an article on the plight of a 23-year-old college chick who works at a comic book shop, let me know! I promise to have real problems.
Catherine Marr, Tempe

Not icon-worthy: That was one of the worst articles I've sifted through. Katie Rose is a nice girl, but no icon. Arizona doesn't need a coked-out ex-porn-star wanna-be rocker burnout as its faux celebrity. All of that aside, the writing in this was juvenile at best. The author sounded like some 13-year-old Green Day fan with a crush. I can't believe someone along the way didn't say anything.
Elizabeth Shaw, Tempe

Glamour slammer: I suppose you could say I have some ambivalence toward the article that was written about Katie Rose. To be honest, I was sickened by the glamorization of a very young woman addicted to drugs, and a lifestyle that is equally destructive. It's not "cool" or "glamorous." Why wouldn't people pay attention to her? She's a tower of big red sex on a stick, and screams, "I'M FUCKED UP." Who would give her a second look if she didn't attract so much attention to herself? I guess maybe we all want attention, even me, who stands only five feet tall, but who is pretty awesome as far as looks and personality go, depending on your taste.

After reading the story, the thought did cross my mind that I might just be jealous. But I'm generally not a jealous girl when it comes to other women. I admire those who deserve it. I also thought about my own life and all the things I have done and who I could have been, and how they rival Katie's woes.

So what makes her so fucking special? She's nice and sweet? A lot of people are. What about her tattoos? We all have them. It has got to be the big red hair. No. I think fucked-up people attract fucked-up people. And that is exactly what you will find at The Rogue or any other bar in any other city or town on any given night (unless you are European). This fascination we have with this ridiculous image of cocaine chic has really got to stop. It is not cool on any level. This superficial shit does not make us who we are. Those brats and pricks with their big hair think they know it all, but in reality they would be a lot cooler if they weren't trying so hard to be so different.

I am not completely heartless, though. I hope Miss Katie Rose makes some fucking great music worth listening to. After all, that's what it's all about, isn't it?
Elise Tate, Phoenix

Everyone's a Critic

Stephen's rib: I've been reading New Times for years and, well, enough is enough with this so-called food critic, Stephen Lemons ("Guinea Piggery," June 1). I honestly have a headache right now. Sure, it can be fun to read his overdramatic, silly, self-praising and catty articles -- much in the same way it's fun to watch the queens on Queer Eye. But much like watching those haughty queens, after a while, eventually one has to say, "Enough!" I mean, can any of the readers really tolerate his incredible arrogance? Yes, I realize he's a critic, so by nature he needs to be somewhat arrogant, but this guy is annoyingly arrogant. Plus, he just plain gets it wrong so many times. Maybe he should have gone to culinary school instead of taking those creative writing classes at the Learning Annex.

Here's a mistake from a recent issue: "I found the rib eye disappointing as well. Curtiss trims the cut to make it look like a filet, and in doing so, removes all that juicy fat and flavor."

Okay, listen up, oh Holy One. What you got was an actual rib eye steak -- the real deal. You see, when you trim away all of the fat from a rib steak, you are left with the rib eye. Yes, it looks like a well-marbled filet. If you wanted all the juicy fat, you shouldn't have ordered the rib eye. I think that you were looking for a rib steak, commonly called a Delmonico steak or prime rib (when roasted).

Of course, most people mistakenly refer to the Delmonico steak as a rib eye, but you're not most people, Stephen. You're a food critic. You really should know your cuts of meat -- especially considering that you are the epitome of foodie arrogance. I read your reviews only so I can laugh at your verbiage; I'll never be swayed one way or the other by a guy who makes so many factual errors.

Please put away the thesaurus and buy some cookbooks.
Karen Blodgett, Chandler

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