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The
holiday season is upon us again, and that
means two things: Family stress, and our annual
list of turkeys who deserve basting after
their dismal years. In alphabetical order
to protect who we think are the biggest clucks:
Baywatch: S.O.S. (Save our Silicone)
Yes, Baywatch finally drowned, but
no need for salty tears because all that silicone
will soon float to the surface on a syndicated
station near you. I only worry about what
will become of all the fine actors; will they
ever have the opportunity to win a Golden
Globe or Emmy again? Maybe the method-acting
folk (read: bimbos) of V.I.P. will
throw them a few lifesavers, so the former
Baywatch Brawn and Breasts never have
to suffer Mr. David Hasselhoff's fate of performing
in an on an off-off-off-off Broadway production
of Phantom of the Opera.
Advice to the turkeys: Seek C.P.R. immediately.
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Robert Blake: Loses Condom, then Gun
Okay, we all know Mr. Blake has been washed up for years;
his biggest credit to date being the title role in the
1975 television series, Baretta. This year, Bobbie
is back in the limelight, starring as suspected killer,
(you guessed it) Robert Blake in the continuing mini-series,
Murder of a Deranged Starfucker--not exactly
the kind of meaty role comebacks are made of. But when
O.J. Simpson laments your troubles, you know that a
return to fame and being represented by Johnnie Cochran
could be just one forensic test away.
Advice to turkey: Turn in your Screen Actor's
Guild card, do not pass go, and head directly to the
nearest tropical island where you can live in infamy
with a pet Cockatoo. |
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Couples:
Love on the Rocks
Melissa Etheridge and Julie Cypher parted ways,
ruining their house-warming gift from David Crosby--drugged-out
sperm--so they could bring two more "functional" children
into this world. And do you think it's fair that four-year-old
daughter Bailey and one-year-old son Beckett will
have to grow up in a one-lesbian-parent household?
Hopefully Mr. Crosby will still ride in on his sleigh
at Christmas and shovel artificial "snow" up their
chimneys.
Jane Fonda left Ted Turner after the billionaire
fell asleep on her, not only at every Atlanta Braves
game during the tomahawk-chop, but also in bed every
night before she had a chance to administer the Viagra.
Perhaps Hanoi Jane finds the prospect of locating
a tank to sit on in Afghanistan sexier than an old
relic billionaire.
Tom Cruise filed for divorce from Nicole Kidman
soon after the two were allegedly coached by a sex
therapist in their scenes together for the Stanley
Kubrick's work of masturbation, Eyes Wide Shut.
Inquiring minds now claim that Tom has finally opened
his eyes for gay porn star, Kyle Bradford. Say it
ain't so, Mr. Clean & Dimpled!
Benjamin
Bratt said later to Julia Roberts after he apparently
realized that following in Ms. Neurotic's shadow was
not going to make him a big bankable movie star. It's
back to the boob tube for you Benji.
Meg Ryan and Dennis Quaid split after it was
rumored that the button-nosed, cutesy Meg had an affair
with macho man, Russell Crowe on the set of Proof
of Life, which proved to be a massive disaster,
bringing down not only a studio's big bucks, but a
couple of kids along with it. Shouldn't there be a
support group for children of the Hollywood mega-messed
ups?
Kim Basinger left Alec Baldwin, no longer able
to tolerate Alec's frequent, and sometimes public
tirades. The final straw occured when Alec berated
her outside a Long Island restaurant, and continued
verbally abusing her inside the establishment. (Imagine
the behavior of the Baldwin brothers that don't have
a career!) Kim has struggled with many forms of neurosis
throughout her life, including a fear of going outside
that resulted in her staying indoors for nearly 6
months. And you thought stars were all glamour and
no feeling.
J. Lo left P. Diddy in the dumps when she realized
that hanging out with a gun-toting gangster just wasn't
moving the earth for her anymore. Now she walks on
her own two high-heels, the ground trembling beneath
that big booty. Californians were under the impression
that was the San Andreas fault.
Advice to the turkeys: It's called "real life,"
put your selfish, approval-seeking, deluded show biz
thoughts aside for a second and ask someone about
it.
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Shannen Doherty: Boiled in the Cauldron
Bad witch, Shannen Doherty was ousted from her role
on the WB series Charmed because the Wicked Wench
had problems with Superfox, Alyssa Milano. Given the
choice of who to drop the house on, schlock-wizard Aaron
Spelling decided on the dysfunctional Doherty, confirming
for her that Spelling Productions is definitely no place
like home. It is the second time around that Mr. Spelling
has taken the same action, the two having parted ways
previously on Beverly Hills 9021-whateva after
cast, crew and munchkins had to endure the slings and
arrows of four years of outrageous temper tantrums.
Advice to the turkey: Seek strong Dominant Master
who can whip your Prima Donna ass into submission. |
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Robert Downey Jr.: A Career Whiffs By
Hopefully we have heard all that we are going to hear
from this druggie…for at least another month, or until
he gets his release from current rehab center. After
a Golden Globe for his performance on Ally McBeal,
Mr. Drugstore Cowboy was busted trying to escape the
cops in an alleyway in Culver City. Tests revealed that
he had cocaine in his system. (No way!) The next director
who hires him can only be in it for one thing: A good
connection.
Advice to the turkey: The next straw you raise
should be for a Slurpee! |
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Al
Gore: Timber!
"Hi, I'm Al Gore and I used to be your next president
of the United States," is how the turkey began a recent
speaking engagement in Los Angeles. He should have added:
"Because I am as stiff as a tree--couldn't even win
my own state--I was chopped down by the Supreme Court,
and now have plans to live my life in a redwood forest,
where I can be amongst my true constituents who appreciate
me for who I am: A gay man whose ass squeaks like the
Tin Man when he walks."
Advice to the turkey: If you run for anything
in 2004, it should be to replace Bob Dole as E.D. (Erection
Dysfunction) spokesman. |
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Reverend Jessie Jackson: Hanging out with the Wrong
Crowd
Perhaps the Righteous Reverend was spending too much
time counseling Bill Clinton on his affair with Monica
Lewinsky, because now the I-Can't-Control-My-Own-Pecker
disease has spread, as it was revealed that the Righteous
Reverend fathered a child with a 19 year old member
of his congregation, and has been paying her large sums
of money under the table ever since. Thank god he is
at least pillaging from his own congregation and not
someone else's, setting a fine example for deadbeat
dads everywhere.
Advice to the turkey: Your chance at ever being
taken seriously again are nil. You are the weakest link,
time to turn in the collar, g'bye. |
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Paula Poundstone: Grabbing More Than The Comedy Spotlight
Standup comedienne Paula Poundstone was charged with
three counts of committing a lewd act with a girl under
the age of 14, as well as endangering her four foster
children. She was promptly whisked away to the chic
Malibu rehab clinic, Promises, so she could be treated
for an "alcohol" problem. Word out of Hollywood is that
Showtime will broadcast the lousy comedy act she sprang
on the kids (to get them "in the mood") right after
Queer as Folk next month, it will be titled Untalented
Pedophiles Like Me.
Advice to the turkey: Time to trade in outdated
political material and prepare for jail time where you
will be forced to squeal like the pig that you are.
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Dr.
Laura Schlessinger: Sourpuss Plucked
Oops, I guess number one radio talk show does not translate
to number one television talk show. Dr. Belittle's television
show was cancelled after just seven months. TV audiences
were apparently unable to look at her, consensus being
that she is the "biological error," deviant in design,
and enough to cause severe cases of dysentery. Pass
the Pepto Bismo, please.
Advice to the turkey: Get laid! Get off! And
get over it! Biatch! |
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XFL:
We Hardly Knew Ye
All the hoopla surrounding the much over-hyped XFL could
not disguise one thing: These "players" sucked and could
not play football if their illegitimate children's life
depended on it. A couple signs of failure: Choosing
Jessie "an actual governor!" Ventura to take time off
from his hard-working political career (bringing every
one Krispy Kremes in the morning) to lend his adroit
announcing skills--making Dennis Miller look like a
God. Also, audience participation events, such as the
Paraplegic Tossing in the stands, did not go over so
well. I only weep for those poor strippers, er, ah,
cheerleaders who have nowhere to turn but a Spearmint
Rhino near you.
Advice to the turkey: Vince McMahon, you can
take the sport away from the morons, but you can't take
the morons away from the sport. Translated: Nothing
you ever do will appeal to anyone but an idiot, so stop
peddling your hype on those of us that actually use
our brain for something more than trying to figure out
whether they want fries or fries with that Big Mac.
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