A lot of people seem pissy at Johnny lately for the sh-t he’s been talking about...well...everything. This week it’s an interview with The Guardian which isn’t actually a bad interview in that he’s honest with his answers and with his flaws, almost disturbingly so (laughing about Bruce Robinson, The Rum Diary director, falling off the wagon made me a little uncomfortable). The problem, I guess, is that when Johnny is honest, well, the mystery rubs off. And it turns out he’s maybe just another Hollywood hypocrite. A hypocrite who says Middle America rejects intelligent movies...

“(The Rum Diary) will be more appreciated (in Europe), I think. Cos it's – well, I think it's an intelligent film. And a lot of times, outside the big cities in the States, they don't want that.”

The same Middle America that pays over and over again to see his Pirates movies.

And the money he makes from Middle America? It goes towards his private island in the Caribbean. And  his yacht. And his exclusive use of private planes instead of commercial flights. It does not go towards the government of France in the form of taxes though. Because, you know, Johnny’s a corporation now.

 "(I left France because they) wanted a piece of me. They wanted me to become a permanent resident. Permanent residency status – which changes everything. They just want," and he mimes peeling off notes in his palm. "Dough. Money." If Depp spends more than 183 days in France, he explains indignantly, he'd have to start paying income tax. "I'm certainly not ready to give up my American citizenship. You don't have to give up your American citizenship," he adds sarcastically, but then he'd have to pay tax in both countries, "so you essentially work for free."

God, just stop...f-cking...talking. Now I know that you have meetings with your accountants and advisors and that you care about these things, more than I wish you would care about these things, and it’s bullsh-t when you say you care about them for your “kids”. Your kids aren’t greedy bastards. But you, you are sounding like a greedy f-cking bastard.

I mean, I’m not ready to start hating him, of course not. But maybe Johnny needs to go away for a while. Because right now, right now I’m even annoyed with his clothes. Here he is in Paris promoting The Rum Diary today with the hat askew just so, and what appears to be a goddamn dishrag hanging from his pants, and another scarf tied around his neck, dangling down on both sides...

He’s an eyerolling mess. And I hate myself for saying it.

Click here
to read the full piece in The Guardian.