Christmastime in the Emerald City

{October 2, 2007}   Okay, We ALL Know She Needs To Wear Underwear. Can We Please Just Get Over It?

So, like, Oh-Em-Eff-Gee, Brittany has lost her babies to K-fed. Like, kind of scuzzy, isn’t he? Like, what’s with the puffy jackets and, like, non-hygiene and shit? I know, can you believe?

Well, I dunno, I mean, she’s like their mother, you know? Like, they can’t just take her babies away. It’s like, crew-wull. Those poor babies.

Well, she fed them, like, fucking Doritos and shit for breakfast, you know? And, like, it looked like she nearly dropped them that one time, so I think she totally deserves to lose her kids.

Okay, everybody just shut up! Stop gazing upwards at the entertainment news flashes in the subway or on the elevator, (presuming you have a real job and are not just on your way to the mall). Quit holding up my grocery line up while I’ve got bocconcini cheese jiggling around because you feel the need to sneak a peek at Brit’s life in an overpriced magazine that you’re too cheap to admit your addiction to.


Gleaning celebrity tidbits from glossy pages and by-the-second e-updates on your hotmail homepage is no better a practice than slowing down when driving past an accident in the hopes of seeing crushed humans. Because that’s all you’re looking for folks, isn’t it? Crushed humans. Someone got married? Big fucking deal. Someone’s getting divorced and throwing wine in someone’s face? WOW!!!! Raaaatings!!!!!! You couldn’t possibly give a shit about the people that half of you sheep stupidly emulate until they find their lives going down the tubes. And then you watch, oh yes, because it makes you feel a little bit better about the fact that you don’t have their million dollar homes and Range Rovers.

And the commenting, my god! “Well, I don’t think she deserves to keep the kids,” and “Well I think they should have split custody,” and “Not unless she goes to some parenting classes or something!”

Fuck you! First, I had Doritos for breakfast plenty of times, and I turned out fine, okay? Secondly, what are you, some sort of marriage counsellor? Where the hell do you and your tight-jeaned poorly-highlighted posse get off commenting on the relationship between two people you’ve never met? Do you have no idea how biased the media is?

If there is one thing I hate more than celebrities, it’s the media that perpetuates their gossip. When you see Angie and Brad on the coast of an uber-expensive-luxury-getaway-island, don’t they look pretty? They’ll never publish that awkward photo of her accidentally swallowing her fiji mountain bottled water the wrong way and trying to cough her lungs clear with a horribly twisted face. Meanwhile, Ms. Anniston is ‘heartbroken’, as clearly indicated by the inset picture in which she looks terribly forlorn. What you don’t know is that a millisecond earlier, she may have been absolutely beaming and thinking ‘fuck that bastard, my life is great!’ The forlorn look you see was a momentary ‘Shit, did I leave the stove on?’

Oh, but then, when Jen is out with a new man, it’s her turn to get the flattering light! And it’s your turn to see a picture of Ms. Angie pronouncing a rather cacophonic word. (Seriously, just try to get a flattering photo of yourself while saying something like “Quebec” or “Roquefort”. You’ll look like a jerk no matter what.)  And suddenly she looks like a raging jealous monster because she’s got that brow furrow thing going on. You know, the one people get when they think “Oh my, what an unflattering sushi arrangment.” Her marriage must be in trouble!

And then eeevvvvvverybody has an opinion on what Brangelina needs to do. As though Brangelina knows who the fuck you are and gives a shit about you and your misinformed advice.

For that matter, why does anybody care about them or any celebrity? Sure, sure, cinema, art (sometimes), blah blah blah. You want to give your opinion of the movie, fine – they wouldn’t put the movie out there unless they at least hoped somebody cared about it. But who cares what colour Lindsay Lohan’s thong is, or how long she’s going to spend in rehab this time?

Side note on rehab: Consider 80’s rockers who grew up on heroin/blow/’ludes/whiskey as part of the Hollywood scene in which everybody took part. (The minutest amount of googling will show you that all those bands came from one expansive peer group usually hopping between the Rainbow, the Troubadour or the Whiskey-a-Go-Go.) One can kind of see how after spending two years on the road surrounded by strippers and drug dealers, someone is going to develop a bit of a subtance abuse problem. Lindsay Lohan did a few crappy Disney movies, and now she’s so stressed out, she’s in rehab to deal with the resulting cocaine problem? LAME! 

What the fuck is Paris Hilton famous for? All her movies, all her crap ass shows, some brief handbag business, all came after her sexpose videotape. And she’s pissed about it, riiiiiiiight.

You want the juicy gossip, fine, fine fine. Buy your fucking magazines. I like slowing down when driving by accidents just as much as the next person, and I will by no means deny that when I happen to see a photo of a cracked out Lindsay Lohan blubbering over some teenage drama or another, my immediate reaction is to laugh my ass off.

But until you go to college for whatever counselling degree you choose and then tromp on down to Hollywood to get to know these sad characters on a personal basis, can you please do me the grand favour of keeping your life-coaching-to-the-stars crap to your uninformed self?



talea says:

Shazam! I echo your sentiments. I have nothing more to add, cuz you’ve said it perfectly.
The pictures of the celebrities looking all emotioned-up to one extreme or another are always split second shots. When you see the live video, you see them make that face for a tenth of a second before they sneeze. So lame.
Don’t people have their own lives and relationships to worry about? For crying out loud…..yeah, I said for crying out loud.

Maytina says:

I love this shit. It’s just too funny. People seem personally invested in the lives of people they don’t know, wont ever know and don’t honestly know much about. If what the media/paps feed us is taken as honesty, how does that go…I’ve got a bridge in Brooklyn to sell them. The split second photos where people look like shit are weeded out of the dozens where they look fantastic.

greenmetropolis says:

Celebrities can kiss my fat white Scarborough ass. The Media can do something far more vulgar.

Rob Tyler says:

i thought this one was good. the dark language kinda works for me, its somehow appropriate.

greenmetropolis says:

You know the ‘dark language’ as you call it, is a natural thing, right? I don’t tent my fingers schemingly, trying to be twisted. It’s just how my brain works. I’m funnier when I’m pissed, I’m not quite sure how that works. It’s a bit of an outlet, I suppose.

That and my fear of the bland. You’ll notice there are no posts about my bunnies, because nobody gives a shit about my bunnies. In fact, new blog idea: stupid pet owners/new parents, and how they can go fuck themselves. Cute hats for babies and/or puppies make me want to hurl.

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