An Open Letter To Matthew McConaughey

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Dear Matt,

We need to talk, bro. And this is serious.

I recently started watching True Detective which airs at 9pm on Sundays on HBO, which is also THE most fragile time for Sunday Scaries. I gotta say, this show ain’t helpin’ my Scaries one bit. I’m used to you being the freewheeling bro that we’ve all come to know and love. And what do we know about Rust Cohle thus far? You’re kind of a creepshow detective who walks weird, takes a shit ton of Quaaludes, isn’t very interested in babes, and develops a serious alcohol problem (and a really creepy mustache). Throughout the history of my Sunday Scaries, I’ve been able to turn to you in times of need. Whether it’s Failure To Launch, Fool’s Gold, Dazed & Confused — shit, Matt, the list goes on and on.

But now? Now you’re in this half-phenomenal, half-creepy Sunday thriller that I can’t help but watch. It’s gift and a curse, Matt. While I respect the show and think your performance is unprecedented, do you really have to do this on Sunday nights when my life is at the apex of anxiety?

Matt — you and I? We aren’t so different. In fact, it’s kind of incredible how wildly similar we are.

For example, we both have drawn a significant amount of inspiration from football coaches. While you played Jack Lengyel in We Are Marshall, I turn to Coach Taylor as my spiritual guide.

While you were high-stakes sports better Brandon Lang in Two For The Money, I place $10 bets on SEC football and Barclays Premier League games.

Face it, bro. You like to get heady. And you know what? I do too. You’re more of the type who smokes dope and plays bongos naked, and I’m the type that listens to tasty guitar solos on the beach.

Shit, Matt. We even have the same taste in women. While you had a fling with fashion writer Carrie Bradshaw-turned-Paula in Failure to Launch, I had a fling with fashion writer Amelia from Man Repeller.

We even have a long history with swimsuit models. You marrying Camila Alves is a little different than me leaking the 2012 Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue cover (seriously, I did), but we’re still on the same level, hombre. We affect swimsuit models’ lives.

Up until three weeks ago when True Detective premiered, you and I were two peas in a pod. Bromancin’. Just two dudes who like bougie shit while also having an onion-amount of layers that amaze people.

And then you gotta go and do this. You gotta addict me to True Detective and throw another hurdle into my already Scaries-filled Sundays.

While I still respect the hell out of your body of work, I just want you to know that you’re really throwing me for a loop with this one. You’re putting me through a laundry list of emotions and really fuckin’ up my zen. This show is a car accident where I want to look away but just can’t because it’s so fucking good. I’m used to looking up to your characters and modeling myself after them, but I can’t do that with Rust.

I hope you win a Globe or an Emmy for this shit, Matt. I really do. But still, it’s going to be difficult for our friendship to move beyond this. I do not approve of you taking such a dark role without consulting me first.

Next time, just talk to me first and we’ll get through this shit together. As friends. Like we always have. Thanks for listening, and don’t hesitate to call or text.

Sincerely,

Me


Will deFriesBrosComment