I was shopping at my local market and happened to notice the tabloids at the checkout. I learned in words two-inches-high that Jen is dating again. Oh, my goodness, I thought. I was afraid Jen might be alone for all time. She’s had such a horrible love life up to this point, and after that last break-up I truly thought she would swear off men forever. The article only left me with two questions. 1; Who the heck is Jen? and 2; Why the heck should I give an ingrown hair on a rat’s butt whether she’s dating or not?
Actually, that’s not true. My niece owns a rat named Herman. Herman is fun to play with. I care if he gets an ingrown hair on his butt. I’m sure that hurts. I worry about Jen far less. Back to the point, my wife explained to me who Jen was. She is a Hollywood actress who was in a very popular television show in the 1990’s. I was shown her picture and yes she is kind of cute. Not as beautiful as my wife, but then again not many women are. I say things like that to touch all bases. They keep my injuries to a minimum.
The thing is I really don’t stress over whether has-been actresses are dating. I also don’t care that Amy is showing a baby bump, Christy was seen in France sporting a new bikini body, Alana has a new boyfriend, Eva will have to shave her head for her next movie, or that Helen has had work done. If Helen wants her house remodeled, who am I to argue. Then there’s the stupidest one of them all, Cheri dropped ten pounds on her new diet. I saw pictures of Cheri before the diet and she looked like she was in urgent need of a cheeseburger. The only way that girl could drop ten pounds is if she picked up a ham at the market and then slipped.
The thing is that all these magazines have huge headlines like all this stuff is actually important. I mean there was one headline that read: Bob is adjusting to fatherhood. Bob makes movies. That’s his job. He had kids. That kind of thing happens to the best of us when we aren’t looking. Therefore, Bob became a father and it was OK. Here’s the thing, this happens to people like a million times a day. Why is it news for Bob and not my neighbor Trey. Trey’s working on his second kid. That’s better than Bob and still no publication has ever come to interview him. I don’t think Bob is news. What would be news is if Bob gave his kid a bath in the dishwasher or if he tied the dog to the ceiling. At least this doesn’t happen a million times every day.
An interesting thing I saw in one of those magazines, was a model who was completely distraught because she went to an Italian beach and some photographer took a picture of her in a bikini. I agree she should have some privacy, but the bikini pics were so out of focus I wasn’t sure it was her. For this garbage, the magazine had to pay a hundred grand and apologize. Think about it. Here’s a magazine that thinks it’s so important to have pictures of this model that they’re willing to pay for, and print, bad pictures and then pay a hundred grand more. Heck if they don’t mind bad, unreadable, out of focus shots, I’ve got lots of celebrity pictures for em’. Just tell me who you want and I guarantee I’ll get them. Oh yes, they’ll be out of focus.
Then there’s the extra sad story of Heather. Her daughter is three years old. Producers want Heather to make a movie in Tunisia and are willing to pay her ten million dollars. Heather can’t part with her daughter for that long so she said no. What??? I won’t make ten million in my life and she said no to it. That’s just nuts. A lady where I work has started taking up a collection because Heather should stand firm with family and she may need money being out of a job. I mean the ten mill she made on her last picture may not go far enough. Thankfully there is a happy, Hollywood ending. The producers are going to fly Heather home for three days a week so she can see her kid. But it’s good to know that if the studio doesn’t come through there are crazy people where I work who will keep Heather in diapers.
I hope you’re not crying after that last tale of woe, because I haven’t told you about Nick yet. Nick is twenty, and an alcoholic. I agree Nick needs help. What he does not need is his face plastered across sixteen magazines in every supermarket checkout in these United States of America. Are they trying to make me feel bad for him? I really don’t. I never met him and frankly I have a broken washing machine. He’s in therapy and getting help, but I have a hundred washer parts strewn all over my basement floor. Truly, which of us is in a worse condition? Be honest!
This is what I can’t figure out. I’m a celebrity like Jen, Nick, Heather and the rest of them, yet no one cares about my projects, problems, or love life. Come to think of it, nobody’s hounding me to get pictures of my new summer bikini body either. That’s probably all for the best. I don’t want to pay for any broken cameras this year either. Although it would be cool to have someone going through my trash looking for gossip instead of the racoons looking for food and the FBI looking for… well I’m under a court gag order regarding that. Let’s just say I wish they weren’t, and leave it at that.
What I really don’t understand is why all those magazines exist. If you ask anyone, nobody reads them. Everybody I talk to says they are just too sophisticated for that trash, but somebody’s buying them. They wouldn’t print fifty million copies, if nobody read them. Ann Marie can’t be the only one. Who’s she? She’s the lady who wanted to send Heather money. The thing is even she denies reading them. For her it’s, “I may pick up one when I’m forced to wait in the checkout line. It does pass the time.” From what she knows, that line must take hours. I’d hate to be the guy behind her.
Another magazine I don’t understand is all the tribute stuff. They’re constantly putting out new Beatles and Elvis publications. Folks, the Beatles broke up. Two of them are dead. Not to be rude but you’re not going to get any more information on them. Hey guys, the people who took the pictures of them are dead as well.
Of course, Elvis is another story. There is still information coming out about him, because he’s still alive. I read that in a magazine
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Thank you all for laughing with me, but I need to be serious. Alpha-1 Antitrypsin Deficiency is a genetic disease which rots the liver and lungs. There is no cure. The only help for people is to have a weekly infusion of proteins to stop the spread. For the next few months I will be taking all my proceeds and donating them to the Alpha-1 Foundation who are searching for a cure to this horrible malady. You can give here or for more information go to Alpha-1.org Thanks for supporting world laughter, and finding a cure. Laugh On