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2007: Rehabbing Celebs

The runner-up story of the year (so far), and it registers an 8.5 on the Suck-O-Meter scale involves Britney Spears. What can you say? She has two young kids. She’s in the process of divorcing a person with less talent than she has. Now, she decides to go on a party spree with Paris Hilton, sans panties with a shaved beaver. Nothing wrong with the last two, but she seems to have crotch shot her way out of a career. It might be easier to give her a wedgie than for her to regain her singing career. But then people come back, so who knows. Have you ever noticed that anyone who hangs with Paris Hilton, except Paris, ends up in rehab? Nicole. Lindsay. Britney. Sure, they may only last a day or two. For some reason, therapeutic maybe, Britney’s response to the exposure (pubic and public) was to shave part of her head and enter rehab. That’s what celebrities with money do when they screw up these days. No apologies, just rehab. Cocaine addiction? Rehab. Alcohol addiction? Rehab. Meth addiction. Rehab. Cheat on your wife? Rehab. Swear racial epithets? Rehab. Fondle interns? Rehab. Broken leg? Rehab. Premature ejaculation? Rehab. Wear diapers and attempt to kidnap someone? Rehab. Ringworm? Rehab. Hangnail? Rehab. You get the idea. It sounds like one of Gary Larsen’s cartoons, which did not suck. It’s fashionable to enter rehab and if you are reading this maybe you should check in.

2007: Crazy astronauts

The story that sucks the most this year (so far) is that of the crazy astronaut. That’s a solid 10 of 10 on the Suck-O-Meter. We are led to believe that this female astronaut put on a wig and a diaper and drove 900 miles to do in a cohort astronaut who may or may not have been docking amorously with a companion male astronaut. Sounds like a ménage a Tang (poon, perhaps) to us. (Editor’s note: if they were country and western singers it would be a ménage a Twang.) She pled not guilty so let’s not prejudge. But let’s talk a bit. OK, so I’m going to kill a guy who is seeing the same girl. Let me see… I spend a week choosing weapons. I think I’ll pick a BB gun, pepper spray (I’m surprised it wasn’t Tang spray or a Tang enema), and a mallet. A BB gun? What the fuck? NASA is our symbol for the last frontier; its for outer space, Buck Rogers, Star Wars, lasers, vaporizing people. So a BB gun is NASA’s weapon of choice? So we’ll fight aliens from outer space with BB guns? And here’s this, my car doesn’t get 900 miles to a tank of gas. So if I’m the alleged perp and I’m out there pumping gas in my diaper? And no one notices? Also, I have a flaw in my metabolism, I can drive 900 miles but it would take me 13 hours. Gotta stop for food. Do I go into one of those places that says “no diaper, no service?” Or do I get fast food at the drive through? And no one notices? What if I have to stay overnight at Motel 6? I can hear that conversation now. The clerk says, “Welcome to Motel 6. Don’t forget to leave your breakfast service menu card on the door before you go to sleep. Also, we can clean your poopy diaper while you sleep. Just put it in the laundry bag and then on the door next to your food request. There’s a Journey song called Faithfully with a line that goes something like “Through space and time…” I’m thinking no more space for this chick but maybe plenty of time. A solid 10 on the Suck-O-Meter scale.

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