Sex in the City

The Sex and the City movie will open in theaters tomorrow. I'm a huge fan, and I plan on dragging Sukie to this movie. I do have a few bones to pick before I see the movie. I decided to write a letter. Here it goes.

Dear Carrie Bradshaw,
You are a fucking liar. There is no way that you are a "writer" in New York and are able to spend the money you do. $40,000 worth of shoes? Really? Bitch, please. First of all, I don't believe it. Second of all, if it is true, you should be slapped. Hard. Let's now move on to your girlie breakfast time with Samantha, Charlotte, and Miranda. Do you really want us to believe that you have a nice apartment, designer clothes, designer shoes, and you get to eat breakfast out...in the city...every day...on a writer's salary? Again. Not buying it.
On the other hand, I do appreciate the escape from reality that you provided me every Sunday night for an hour. It was nice to pretend that one could live that lifestyle and really be content and happy. I shall be at your movie with bells on. I know you won't disappoint.
Sincerely,
Alex

P.S. I read somewhere that Miranda was the true sexual freak because nice girls don't dye their hair that color. Is this true?

P.S.S. Tell Mr. Big that I would totally do him.