Why Madonna Should Adopt Me

There's been a lot of unwarranted criticism of Madonna's decision to adopt a Malawian child; though it's fairly obvious that her decision was a humanitarian one rather than a publicity stunt, people still believe that Madonna's not doing this for the right reasons. I definitely believe her dedication towards the adoption of the kid is genuine; however, there are people who need Madonna's money and care more than some third world baby. For instance, myself.

For instance, like a Malawian child, I'm constantly surrounded by flies. But unlike some fat-cat African baby, I don't wash when I have the opportunity, and I have no qualms about going to the bathroom in random places around my house. I could use a good maid, which Madonna could easily afford, as well as a year's supply of WetNaps (should get me started, anyways) and anything else the material girl could spare. I may feel an incentive to live a cleaner life if I was given a bar of soap made out of pure gold.

My diet is undeniably worse than an African infant from Malousy. It consists mainly of generic Oreo cookies (Oareooos), Dr. Pepper (well, to be perfectly honest, Dr. Thunder), and the occasional french fry. Occasionally, I'll indulge in some fast food, perhaps pick through some day old donuts. But I'm not an American glutton, Madonna, oh no; though I try to eat constantly, I barely way over a hundred pounds, possibly due to parasites living inside me. Madonna should feel free to get me treated for my health problems, buy me a nice year or two's worth of meals, and maybe let me punch Guy Richie's face after a few weeks to see if my strength's returning. I might even start working out if you'll throw in that little incentive, and America will praise you for your humanitarian brilliance.

And I think one of my biggest advantages over this kid is fairly simple; I speak English already. Madonna, just think of the work you or your hired help will avoid! I come with many of my own clothes (though they could use a good wash, frankly) and a good sense of humor. That African kid is going to be such a downer all the time, a walking reminder of how awful things are in other parts of the world, a living testament to the fact that not enough is being done to improve the state of our fellow human beings due to some abstract Western bias, be it racially based or economic. I'm simply a walking celebration of how awful people are here, and of American sloth, arrogance, and apathy, and on top of that I'm great at conversation when I'm not watching football. You need me in your home.

Let's not split hairs here, because I don't want to sound ridiculous: there are plenty of good reasons to adopt me before some kid in a field in the Sahara, or wherever Malawi is (I also need some money for education). The important thing is just that I'm adopted as quickly as possible, because time is running out. If I keep living like this, I may be forced to die, or worse, get a job of some sort. If Madonna is not interested, there are hundreds of other celebrities I would accept as parents, such as Angelina Jolie, Sarah Michelle Gellar, that one girl from Dawson's Creek that I used to really like, and of course Carrot Top. Please, celebrities, move quickly. It's only a few hundred dollars a day, and you will receive periodic correspondence with me, provided that you buy me a Palm Treo or two.

Contact me as soon as you can. I'm going to go see if there are any more Oareooos left.