An Open Letter From Amanda Bynes‘ Long-Suffering Car

Drivers everywhere are rejoicing now that known hazard to navigation Amanda Bynes has had her license suspended. And before you get all indignant like a judge is just making an example out of her because she’s a celebrity, let’s recall that this bitch has been hitting things with her car and driving away all summer. She’s been having a summer fling with moving violations. But summer’s over now, and as it turns out, the state frowns upon striking other cars with your car, especially repeatedly, so Amanda just racked herself up a quick couple of misdemeanors for her actions on April 10th and August 4th. Thus the license suspension.

And actually, depending on the leniency of the judge, there might actually be some jail time along with these convictions, which means Amanda would finally get a shot to be just as famous as fellow jailbirds Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan. I say go for it, Amanda! Request the maximum sentence!

But aside from Amanda herself, and obviously the drivers of LA who have been impacted by her crime, there is another, silent victim whose needs have gone unnoticed: Amanda’s car. He’s been through a lot, but before you blame him for this situation, I encourage you to read this open letter of apology that he wrote with his very own tires:

Hello. I am Amanda Bynes’ car. Amanda calls me ‘Carbert’, after her father.

I have done some very bad things as of late, and I know everyone is angry at me, but please believe me when I say it was not my fault. I know it’s what everyone says, but I can’t control myself around Amanda. It’s like, when we’re together, something happens to me and I don’t get to choose what I do.

I’m not an aggressive car, but I wake up in the morning with scrapes and dents all over me and I know I hit someone again, even though I swore I wouldn’t. I think to myself, “What did I do last night?” and then I roll over and see Amanda sleeping peacefully in the garage next to me, and I know. She’s a wonderful girl, but she has a grip on me that I can’t explain. It’s like she has control of me; of my steering, my wheels…even my lights. I love being with her, but I’m starting to feel like it’s toxic for me to continue this relationship.

I hear what they’re starting to call me in the streets — ‘The Car Chris Brown‘, but that’s not who I am. I would never hit another car. That’s not how I was raised. And if I ever did, by accident, you have to know that I would stay with her until the police arrived and make sure everyone had all my information so I could provide compensation.

But when I’m with Amanda Bynes, that’s not what happens. I find my wheels turning away from the scene, my motor starting to race with the exhilaration of doing it again, watching the sad, stricken faces falling away in my rearview mirrors.

I can’t say I’m glad that Amanda lost her license to be around me, but I think it might be for the best. We love each other deeply, but the facts don’t lie — we’re toxic.

I’m truly sorry for everything I’ve done. If I could take it back, I would.

Very sincerely yours,



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