Thursday, November 11, 2004
 
I Know You Wanna Hit That
I would not under any circumstances fuck Liza Minelli. And not just because I'm married either, no. Even if I were single, I would give that one a wide, wide berth. Arm's length at least. Turns out she's a hitter. Oh, and about 400 years old. And the alcohol has not made her age well, either.

Of course I have nothing to worry about as she would never be interested in me because 1) she is famous, or at least used to be and 2) I am not gay man looking for a beard and/or someone in her employ. I guess when you look and sound like Liza Minelli and all you've got going for you is a giant pile of money as an enticement to fornicate, you've got to flaunt what you've got and then pounce on the most vulnerable targets of opportunity. Sort of like the way a jackal will pick out a wounded antelope.

As for her chauffeur/bodyguard suing her because she "forced" him to impale her on what is no doubt a flawless and spectacular specimen of manhood, well... I'm not so sure. Is it that hard to say no to Liza Minelli?

LIZA: Ooh, chaffeur person. Mama's feelin' saucy. Mama's feelin' randy. Come back here and rub somethin' for Mama.

CHAUFFEUR: No thanks.

Open and shut, really. I realize I left out the part where she physically assaulted him; this man who is her bodyguard, remember.

Hey, if the person you're supposed to be protecting can beat you into submission, you should see your guidance counselor immediately. Especially when you enjoy a 2:1 advantage in both height and weight and a 40 year deficit in the age department.

This is not to say that I'm against younger-man/older-woman doin' it. Look at Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher. Have you ever seen a love so natural, so pure, so unforced? And I would definitely take a run at Anne Bancroft or Susan Sarandon. You know what, just as soon as the statute of limitations is up, I may just try one of those two again.

Abruptly changing the subject and infinitely more seriously, I would like to take a second to note that it is Veteran's Day. I would like to thank all those who served, fought and/or died for our country. I would especially like to single out the veterans of World War I who fought the Hun to a stalemate right around this time of the year way back in 1918. It is the anniversary of the armistice signed to end that war that gives us the school holiday I am enjoying even as you read this.* I desperately needed the day off this week so I just wanted to say I appreciate the thougtful foresight you had all those years ago that allowed me to keep my fat ass in bed for a few extra hours instead of driving my kid to school this morning.

And all that shooting and fighting and stuff was good too.

Peace out.


This post on the Narcissus Scale: 5.0


Pops


*=unless you are reading it on, say, Friday or later, in which case please disregard... all of it, really. It's old news by now. Hey, did you hear Arafat's dead? I got Castro next in the Death Pool. My brother-in-law's got the Pope, the lucky bastard. He's a lead-pipe cinch.

Comments:
I can't have images of anyone impaling Liza Minelli with any body part in my head so please cease and desist.
 
What really worries me is that I conceived the idea in the first place and then committed it to print. I am clearly damaged in some way.
 
Well, I've known that for a while now.
 
I heard the teaser for that news item about some female celebrity being sued by her bodyguard. Wouldn't have guessed in a million years that it's be Liza! But then again, if anyone needs to hit on the hired help, it'd probably be her. She's not even remotely fuckable these days. Her Cabaret days are waaaaay behind her. BTW, how is the Pope still alive? That guy's like a walking corpse! Arafat was like a spring chicken compared to him. Well, they always say the wicked live longest, so...I wonder what John Paul's Polish sausage has been?
 
After he got shot that one time, I have been operating under the assumption that the pope is, in fact, immortal. Did you ever see that movie Death Becomes Her with Meryl Streep and Goldie Hawn where they buy magic anti-death potion from Isabella Rossalini (yes please) and can't die? Then they proceed to get all beat to hell, warped and bent in every conceivable horrible angle, but won't die and must live disfigured forever?

Yeah, that's the pope. I didn't even know he knew Isabella Rossalini.
 
Post a Comment

<< Home
|

Powered by Blogger