Wednesday, November 28, 2007

There is no Santa Claus

It's the end of an era. I feel like Mike McDee when Teddy KGB shows his aces-full. I feel like Stephen Rea in the Crying Game. I feel like Ray Finkle after Superbowl XVII. It's the gut punch of all gut punches. Or ball punch, more accurately.

So today, I'm doing my typical thing, you know, killing some time by checking out some celebrity gossip sites in the hopes that some lovely celebrity has once again loosed her naughty bits in front of the paparazzi, allowing me a glimpse as what she knows she wants to offer me anyway. Unfortunately, the only celeb news I found today was some blather about the human wasteland that was formerly known as Britney, an update on Herpes Valley, or as some refer to, Paris Hilton. And this:

What is that you ask? The rear of a pear? Centerfold of Cellulite Weekly? The Ghost of Erections Past? No, friends, unfortunately, the correct answer is Jennifer Love Hewitt. Yes, that's right, the woman who was able to single-handedly support not only the horrible "I Know What You Did Last Summer" franchise, but also made normal, heterosexual guys actually watch that estrogen filled cesspool that was Party of Five. Really, that's some feat. Normally, one would think a person capable of performing such magical acts would use some of that juju to keep her body in shape at least through her mid 30s. But no, she's 28. Diane Lane is gorgeous and she's 108, but JLH couldn't keep it together for even 10 years. I'm filled with sadness, disappointment, shock and limpety. Just a damn shame, is what it is.

First Neve Campbell gets all old and hippy-like, despite her flash in the pan moment in Wild Things. Now "Love" has gone the way of the hippopotamus. The bearded guy never dated anyone really hot, so we won't even bother to worry about them. Our only hope remains Lacey Chabert. She must now carry the Party of Five hotness torch.

At least I can enjoy the knowledge that gaywad dimpledouche Bailey never had any kind of career. But that's just a weak victory, much like a celebratory touchdown dance when your team is down by 40. Today my penis has shed a tear.

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