James Franco: Finish triple masters’ degrees in the following ultra-exclusive mini-programs offered by, respectively, Stanford, Arizona State, and Kenyon College: Post-Post-Modern Feminist Francoism Theory In The Digital Age, Why People Are Obsessed With James Franco, and Melodrama And Gentricity In Cinema As It Relates To James Franco With A Minor In Alternative Theories About Why People Are Obsessed With James Franco.
Kim Kardashian: Commit to a long-term relationship that lasts at least four months.
Ryan Gosling: Induce a paradigm-shift in “Top Sexiest Men” lists wherein instead of relatively “insignificant” write-ups in “puny ass” (his words) magazines, “Top Sexiest Men” lists become, simply “Top Sexiest Ryan Goslings” such that all “Top Sexiest Men” lists are composed only of ratings and analyses of myriad Ryan Gosling photos and internet memes.
Kanye West: Maintain a Twitter account for over six months without having a catastrophic meltdown before 10 AM.
Skrillex: Stay relevant.
Zooey Deschannel: Perfect the Manic Pixie Dream Woman image: an iteration of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl who feels comfortable shopping at Ann Taylor Loft and driving a minivan, on occasion, as needed. Look into cost of commissioning a concept artist to create ‘life-size,’ fully-functional pixie wings out of the wings of a thousand dead dragonflies and the additional finances necessary for fully-functional surgical implantation of said wings.
Jesse Eisenberg: Submit to McSweeney’s Internet Tendency under a pen name, “just to be sure.”
Michael Cera: Kill Jesse Eisenberg.
Beyonce: Successfully derail Jay-Z and Kanye’s relationship by a combination of withholding sex, frequently demanding that Jay-Z “Facetime” with in-laws when in the studio with Kanye, and instilling in Jay-Z a Pavlovian response to Kanye’s ring on Jay-Z’s iPhone such that whenever Jay-Z hears the ring he immediately, subconsciously desires a “sh-t ton” (this is the word Beyonce used, to her nutritionist) of fried, “cheesy ass” (again, Beyonce’s words) foods and so instead of picking up the phone is compelled to “gobble” the closest approximation to a fried, cheesy food in sight.
Ashton Kutcher: Co-star in Dude Where’s My Car, The Sequel opposite Seann William Scott and more barely-legal breasts than a poultry slaughter plant.
Chris Brown: Let go and let god.
Leonardo DiCaprio: “Finally” overcome the “f-cking” (his words) baby-face image with a series of roles predominately directed by Clint Eastwood, Terrance Malick, and Woody Allen portraying, for the most part, “musty” 80-somethings struggling with identity, masculinity, sexuality, and successive layers of dream-sleep.
Drake: Connect with Amanda Bynes on Twitter, who followed Drake prior to deleting her first account but has since abstained from refollowing him, despite Drake feeling certain that, as child stars, the two are kindered spirits with an unspoken bond that could potentially grow into something more.
Woody Allen: Divorce wife, propose to great-great-great-great-great-great-adopted-grandaughter.
Tim Tebow: Convince Broncos management to shoot fireworks from the top of Mile High Stadium everytime he performs his signature move.
Lana Del Rey: Via surgical processes and an intense botox regime, transcend existing corporeal form as pop-hipster-millenial-faux-underground goddess to become the first-ever identity to exist as brainwaves designed to elicit response in pleasure centers of 18 to 25 year-old urban males.
Brangelina: Adopt at least 20 more children from 3rd-world nations; begin a process of educating them in high-powered business management and political indoctrination for the express purpose of creating a “bunch of little Hitlers that’ll overthrow the governments of the world’s wealthiest nations… Just putting our pawns into place for the takeover. Viva la revolución, babe,” as Brad put it, secretly, to Angelina, at the peak of a two-day coke bender this September in Dubai.
Tom Hanks: Punch out the next “asshole” on the sidewalk who yells “Run, Forrest, Run!” at him.