“NOW IT’S WAR!” declares the cover of InTouch.
No, it’s not “Democracy” vs. “Petro-Authoritarianism” – although we still enjoy bullying the buhjeezus out of Iran, Venezuela, Nigeria, Russia and the Sudan….(note to Russia: quit bragging how much oil you have in your pocket, man —you’re in a bad neighborhood, get me? If I were you I’d cover that shite with a wildlife reservation and drop some rare pandas on it, as quickly as possible. I hear China has two or three left…and quit saying you’re a superpower again. On second thought, find your own pandas, I don’t think it’s a very good idea for you and China to be hanging out together.)
And no, it’s not the NSA vs. USA Today, although it is pretty impressive when you think about the fact that Nixon only bugged the Democrats — Bush II is bugging every single last freaking one of us. Thanks, technology! Thanks, telecom companies! And we thought you were only giving out all our private information to people who want to sell us home delivery of the New York Times and interest-only second mortgages.
Now I am going to be even less likely to support the telecomopolies in their sly, backdoor bid to privatize the entire internet through hyper-aggressive lobbying of their crony friends. Not that I’m not prepared to chain my naked body to my computer terminal and refuse to log off of My Space in protest, if that nasty little pork-blizzard goes through…
It’s definitely war between the White House and the intelligence community. Heads are rolling, and The Beltway is leaking classified dope like an old Buick radiator. I’m loving this whole Dusty Foggo stepdown — the #3 guy at the CIA, hanging out at (gasp) poker parties with those bad, bad, generous defense contractors. Mercy. Shock, horror. Whoda thunkit.
Kind of like that old Kids in the Hall skit: Sure, Mr. Negroponte, we’ll collect the human intelligence (HUMINT) data to help spread democracy to those godless, sister-shooting Petrogoths. But first….the whores!
But that still isn’t what In Touch is talking about.
It’s not Fossil-fuels v. Hollywood, either, although George Clooney did appear in Vanity Fair driving his emission-free, electric Tango, and in the Star accompanying his dad at the SaveDarfur.org rally in Washington DC… George is out kicking some major policy-fanny, since none of the Democrats seem willing or able to do it. But he should be careful.
When all of our engines are converted to vegetable fuel, I envision a crazy, eco-conscious Mad Max world, in which convoys of 18 wheelers are all pulling up to the kitchen door of the same truck stops with assault rifles, demanding buckets of used corn oil from the hapless Guest Worker, trembling in his hairnet….George better stay thin enough to get back into his Batman suit, that’s all I’m saying. And speaking of artist/activists, shouldn’t the artist Christo be abandoning his Big Orange Flags Around Central Park-type stunts and concentrate on stopping global warming by wrapping the Antarctic in millions of those empty Coors cans that are supposed to stay cold by themselves? He could probably get half of the cans he needs just by following Kevin Federline around with a shopping cart for a few days.
“(K-Fed) just goes to the bank every morning, withdraws cash, and then drives around all day doing whatever,” says a pal to InTouch, obviously in admiration of Mr. Federline’s chronic lack of ambition. Note that Federline, a staunch American-way-of-lifer, drives whatever the hell he feels like driving. But I guess he can’t drive a car that runs on vegetable shortening since his wife has taken to eating it all. Hell, you could light up Vegas with all them Twinkies.
No, the real war on all our minds is: Heather Locklear vs. Denise Richards, now that Denise has run off with Richie Sambora, Bon Jovi guitarist and ex-Mr. Locklear. How could she, those of us living in Wysteria Lane are asking. That TRAMP. “HEATHER PLOTS HER REVENGE,” vows InTouch. All parties involved will soon be enjoying a pleasant boost of their otherwise sagging careers….but what’s our TomKat, Brangelina name for the new Richie-Richards sex merger? Denbora? Sounds like a Splenda-substitute….better than her last relationship, DeniSheen, which I used to bleach my teeth with this morning. Or for that matter, Ms. Locklear’s last relationship, Heathbora, the Malibu-based Palestinian terrorist organization.
And in another example of life imitating art imitating life imitating….wait….lost track…can’t tell which is which anymore…. InTouch reports that CSI star William Peterson was recently accosted by an angry, heckling fan who screamed “Why don’t you go to Aruba and find Natalee Holloway?!”
Silly girl. Doesn’t she know that Natalee is only a TV show?
Please, fiends, change the channel, and make Condoleezza go away. At least strand her on a desert island with Alexis Arquette or something. That would be fun.