Dear Jason Segel:
It is time for a friend-tervention.
Now, don't get us wrong. We're happy that you're getting good roles. We think it's great that you're moving beyond the Judd Apatow oeuvre. We even kind of liked I Love You, Man. And we are definitely stoked to hear that you are writing an upcoming, untitled Muppet movie. However, we have some concerns about this photo, which was presumably shot over the weekend:
1. We believe you're wearing tighty-whiteys, and you are no longer 12 years old. It is possible, though not likely, that you might be sporting boxer-briefs, but we can't actually zoom in close enough to tell because:
2. The waistband of said undies blends into your skin, which is the color of unscented Kleenex. We're cool with the fact that you've kept your natural tone -- a very bold choice in LA, and also very healthy. However, unless you're slathered in Coppertone, you might not want to gallivant around the grounds shirtless. You risk sunburn and make it abundantly clear to the neighbors that you've broken the #1 sin of Hollywood:
3. You don't belong to a gym. Or if you do, it's not a very good one. Or if it is a very good one, you don't go enough. Now, that's fine, too -- not everyone needs to look like Gerard freakin' Butler. We're just saying, be prepared for criticism.
4. More generally, it's kinda trashy/nutty (in a Britney sort of way) to piddle around the garage nekkid from the waist up. If you're comfortable with it, okay, but from here, it looks like you may be losing your grip -- an impression reinforced by the fact that:
5. You've invested in a schmancy single-serve coffee maker. You know who buys those? Bachelor dads and crazy cat ladies. Which one are you, Jason? WHICH ONE?
That said, we still think you've got great potential, and we have a couple of suggestions:
1. Ditch the tighty-whiteys. Boxer briefs are okay, but if you participated in National Commando Day, you know the real way to go.
2. Take that Chrysler 300 for a spin. Everyone knows it's a sexy ride -- even our president. Give it a whirl. Get out of the house. Meet someone who'll appreciate the weirdo pod-coffee you can make for them the morning after.
3. Alternately, throw a leg over that Vespa -- or, if you're feeling really testosterone-y, the Harley -- and ease on down to the gym. Not only will you get a workout and encounter some potential date material, but you might even catch a few rays. And that couldn't hurt. Just sayin'.
We hope you'll take these suggestions to heart, Jason. Believe us: we hit the gym every day (or at least every other day), and we've got stamina. We can keep the interventions coming for as long as it takes.