The Introduction to the Pantheon
Other Letter readers often corner me at exclusive parties, and ask: “Why was Jennifer Aniston removed from the Pantheon?”
I reply: “Because she was never included. I never understood Jennifer’s star-vehicle, Friends. Did anyone? What is the subtext for this congregation of so-called buddies? Is this meant as some Dionysian joke, a riddle perhaps. Why are they together? Is it only the physical longing of the physically attractive? While there always seemed to be Oedipal or Electra complexes looming beneath the surface, this was hardly explored in the first fourteen seasons. Only in season nineteen, did the troupe come out as either gay and/or lesbian or a non-binary mix.
“While each of the Friends girls were promiscuous, Monica was the one most available for any and all comers. Season twenty-seven opened with her chasing down some guy in a tuxedo for a meal ticket, and Joey running for the United States Senate. Both events were followed by lengthy, house meetings, led by concerned yet perplexed, Rachel and Chandler, with their now famous call-to-arms, “let’s sort this crap out.” Friends had officially jumped the shark.
“The all-time funniest Friends episode was the one where Ross bought a chick for Joey’s birthday, and Joey didn’t realize until too late that he was getting a chicken, and not the girl of his dreams. The hilarity was considerable, if and only if, you had no other exposure to humor. Yet most watched Friends because this was Gilligan’s Island for the 1990s, a mindless romp with updated Gingers and Mary Annes shimmying to native rhythms.
“As for Rachel’s obvious overtures towards the other female cast members, there was never full exposition. Viewers were left wondering, that Rachel-Phoebe axis, why did this never evolve? Rachel, Phoebe, and Monica lived in the same apartment, yet there was never any testing or breaking societal demands for heterosexual relationships? Was Friends filmed in 1995 or 1955?
“Was Friends meant to be a celebration of girlfriends, heterosexual pairing in infinite combinatorics? Then there’s the congregation’s mecca, the Central Perk. Sure Rachel, Phoebe, and Monica, were perky, that is the obvious metaphor, but is that the full culmination of womanhood, to simply be perky? As for sexual congress, all were chaste until Rachel married Winslow, thus ending all romantic tension.
“See, no subtext, no revelatory discoveries. With so much left unresolved, can one actually say they were truly a Friends fan? No, of course not, Friends was a source of endless frustration, for all but those shut-in and watching in institutional day rooms, like felons doing hard time. Was this their intended demographic?”
My fellow party-goer scratches their head, “But wasn’t it at least didactic?”
“Hardly, no, never, because...” Another exclusive party wasted discussing Friends theory and practice ad infinitum.
Anyhow, this is why Jennifer Aniston isn’t included in the Pantheon...
Salma Hayek is Ashley’s bff from their Frida filming days. Here’s a few surprises about Salma. Did you know that because Salma is so top-heavy, she has a walker? She might go wheelchair when the going gets tough, but mostly it’s the walker.
Salma cannot stand upright without a back brace. Every movie, if you pay close attention, she’s always reaching for a wall for support. She regularly face plants, even in restaurants. Most scenes she’s sitting to avoid face plant reshoots. Salma has annual back surgery, not just an exam, surgery.
All these girls in the Pantheon get hit on every day, in any situation. I’d imagine it gets very annoying after awhile, although in any boring, social situation, I bet Salma knows to lean over.
Anyhow, Salma is taken, by a guy who could easily buy Fort Knox’ gold, so we very wisely exclude her from the Pantheon.
In Salma’s stead, and in her class, but somehow an even bigger bust, we have Christina Hendricks. She looks like the most pleasant woman, she is always smiling. What’s more, she just broke it off with a long-term relationship. For those keeping score at home, she starred in Mad Men as Joan. Joan was the beleaguered, executive assistant in the male-dominated world of 1960s, Madison Avenue advertising.
Ashley Judd would have been on her way out of the Pantheon due to her associations with bad elements. If you follow this Pantheon you know we mean Pope Jorge (his real name), anti-Choice Melinda Gates, and tax-evader, Bono (his alias). A little birdie told me she is not so foolish anymore, but I still have her on Double Secret Probation to avoid relapses.
Tina Fey was pulled because she backed Jimmy Fallon. This was after the firestorm he created when he snuggled up with Trump on the Tonight Show during his election campaign.
My complaint with Fey of Saturday Night Live infamy, and her ilk as well, is that her SNL stole the writers of: National Lampoon, Second City TV, and Mad TV, then replaced these great shows with often unwatchable drivel (this point about talent theft was made very clearly in the film, National Lampoon: Drunk Stoned Brilliant Dead).
To add insult to injury, they had host Trump twice, before he was elected President with fewer votes than his opponent, Hillary Clinton (the election heist was pulled off via the Electoral College’s wealthy people loophole, where land mass means more than the size of the electorate — just like in the Senate).
Tina has begun petitioning for inclusion back in to the Pantheon U.S. Edition, but frankly, we do not see this ever being ruled in her favor. It’s like having a felony on your rap sheet, it stays there forever. Don’t expect me to clean up your rap sheet, Fey, it ain’t gonna happen. Sorry. Many are called, but few are chosen.
Tina, I know you’re out there, don’t bother resubmitting your application. It is a lengthy, time-consuming, and expensive process. You may think you’re made of money until you get caught in the Supreme Court of the U.S. Pantheon. Just be thankful that you did belong to the Pantheon for a few illustrious months, and just leave it at that. This is all we can do. I know you think you’re worthy, but you’re not. I’m sorry, I hate to break it to you, but you’re not good enough. SLAP!!!
Lindsay Lohan (Lilo) was given the bum’s rush once she decided she was pro-Trump and pro-Weinstein, not much to add to that. Anyone can see that Lindsay is good-hearted, but her politics are suspect, and a bevy of beauties like the Pantheon are political if nothing else.
Jennifer Lawrence was yanked off of Other Letter when she was rude to Lilo. J-Law said she “pukes like Lilo without the drugs or alcohol.” And J-Law herself pukes because of nervousness, or because of the same reasons she accuses Lilo?
Diane Keaton fell victim to Baby Jesus proselytizers. This is so incredibly sad, but the actress who gave the world Annie Hall in the flesh, has become a mindless Jesus freak.
Any of those listed above will be considered for re-inclusion in the OL Pantheon once they prove they are worthy of Other Letter forgiveness, either with selfie bedroom photos, or starlet mansion invites. Other Letter is the new power player in town, all hail the king!
At New York’s Fashion Week, We have the Tale of Two Models...
Twiggy was one of the first super-models. Cheryl Tiegs made the scene soon thereafter, and a bit later, there was Christie Brinkley, the uptown girl. George Michael’s Freedom 90 highlighted the best in class of super-models of the Eighties.
Today, a few standouts quickly come to mind: Karlie Kloss, who’s been put out to marriage pasture at 25 years of age (and has the biggest, warmest smile of any model, ever); Gigi Hadid, the rising star; and Cara Delevigne, who’s super talented (she can expertly play the drums and is an actress, among other talents), yet has apparently lost all interest in her original claim to fame, which was modeling. I hate to say this, but Cara does seem rudderless as well as being on the self-destructive side, and she seems to carry a bit of wild heroin chic with her.
Fashion models get ranked on for being as lazy as sin, but unless they make a substantial effort, they will never make it to the upper echelons. Some warm to the camera, others remain icy and distant.
Cara Delevigne does seem so lackadaisical at this show. Meanwhile, Gigi Hadid is a real charmer, and is a real trooper (in this photo her heel broke so she’s barefoot). You can just tell she likes her work, but she hasn’t forgotten that that’s what it is, it’s work. I’d have to say that she has the brightest future after looking over dozens of photos I saw from NYFW.
I bet Cara sees herself as an actress who models to pay the bills. She is very talented but she looks like she hates modeling.
Besides Gigi, Karlie also approaches modeling as a career, she’s another pro. Even though elite modeling is a lucrative field, many models at that level can’t even muster a warm, easy, unforced smile. They’re either spoiled rotten, don’t understand their role as a fashion presenter, or are scared stiff.
I see Gigi getting at least as far as Karlie has (and Karlie looks as though she defected to the dark side — she married Joshua Kushner, the brother of Jared, Ivanka Trump’s husband). Whatever Gigi is doing, she’s doing it right. She’s the pro out of the whole lot of the super-models at NYFW. Gigi sure wears fashion well, Cara isn’t doing so well. Gigi has risen to the challenge of super-model greatness, Cara doesn’t look like she cares anymore — about anything...
Gigi is knocking them dead again, this time in Paris, for the Americans in Paris fashion week. Gigi has a younger sister, Bella, who is two years younger than Gigi, and who seems a bit more serious. This might stem from Gigi being intense, professional competition, especially when she’s a member of your own family.
More proof that Gigi Hadid is a super-heroine, just like Batgirl or Wonder Woman, or maybe we should just call her the Gigi-goddess. She bounced a catwalk prankster right off the stage. Nothing to it for this super-heroine. When the fashion season is over, she’s a bouncer down in Hell’s Kitchen. The legend of Ms. Hadid lives on. Way to be, Gigi, super-star...
Bella Hadid just had a détente session with Selena Gomez over a misunderstood Facebook post. I’ll tell you, listening to those two compromise on the complexity of a single social media exchange, one is very surprised that they’re not actually negotiating a Middle East peace initiative...
Cara Delevigne bounced back from whatever she was going through. She’s doing just fine now. Clear-eyed, and twinkly-toed, Cara is back in it to win it. Whew! Wasn’t that a close call?!
Another super-hot, super-model is Emily Ratajkowski. Her body fat must have been divinely placed in all the right places.
The question most on my mind about Gigi, and the rest, is: Would they get out of bed for under $10,000 a day? Iconic, Nineties, Canadian super-model, Linda Evangelista, said, “no, never.” Would the current roster of super-models get out of bed for under $10,000 a day? If yes, has modeling hit hard times with the end of the Victoria’s Secret Angel Showing? Then it’s time to regroup, unionize, find a union hall, and go on sex kitten strike.
Ladies and Gentlemen, the Big Four
Each of the Big Four has super, girly-girl powers, and commensurate experiences:
Charlize Theron is our movie producer; is an Oscar-winner; and represents the international perspective. She is Dutch, speaks Afrikaans, and is a White, African-American, from South Africa. Charli (as she is known by her closest compadres) is three years younger than Gwynnie, five years younger than Heather, and eight years younger than Ashley (we know that women hate revealing their age, but they’re all good sports here).
Gwyneth Paltrow runs contextual commerce site, Goop; is CEO of a multi-national; is an Oscar-winner; and is our culture arbiter. She has hosted functions at her home for the National Democratic Party, including one for former President, Barack Obama.
Ashley Judd has federal government experience; has worked at the United Nations; is an equestrian; was considering a run for Senator from Kentucky (seriously); has a Masters in Public Administration from Harvard University; and is well-versed in spiritual principles.
Heather Graham has movie-directing experience; has acted in films exploring the sexual facet of life, among many other themes; she regularly appears on sexiest, and most beautiful women lists; she has personal familiarity with “the rock n roll scene”; she has worked closely with child advocate, Children International; and has been a practitioner of Transcendental Meditation (aka TM) for decades.
You’re bored, play our quiz...
There was a documentary that followed the lives of schoolchildren entitled Seven Up. If I remember correctly, they discontinued the project at Fifty-six Up — seven installments, and forty-nine years later.
Surprisingly, the original Seven Ups were the Big Four — Charlize Theron, Heather Graham, Ashley Judd, and Gwyneth Paltrow (not in any particular order). Without further ado, here is a quiz matching the Big Four to their quotes from then.
|1. I’d like everyone on earth to be very, very, happy, someday.||A. Charlize Theron|
|2. I’d like to one day become a billionaire, or else marry one, or just have two kids.||B. Ashley Judd|
|3. I’d like to be able to levitate myself into the clouds. And every child needs to be loved.||C. Gwyneth Paltrow|
|4. I’d like to rebuild my country.||D. Heather Graham|
Do not look at the answers until you’ve given this the old college try. That may not be saying much about college, but so be it.
The answers: 1., B.; 2., C.; 3., D.; 4., A.
Actresses To Be Included
These are a few of the unforgettable, Pantheon women I hope to include once I find the time, the energy, and a full-time research assistant who wears low-cut blouses. This incomplete list has unexpectedly gotten very long, and I have made serious omissions due to blind spots in my admittedly limited knowledge of the entertainment industry.
Julianne Moore would get first dibs, but she keeps turning down my advances, so I’ll profile someone who knows what it takes to succeed in this town:
Eva Marie Saint
Dame Helen Mirren
Dame Judi Dench
Dame Julie Andrews
Dame Maggie Smith
Sarah Jessica Parker
Sarah Michelle Gellar
D. Vanessa Redgrave
The Pantheon Big Four are much like the Beatles, the Fab Four:
(Okay, this is the problem I have. None of the Big Four girls want to be Ringo, but they all want to be Paul. This whole Big Four/Beatles project might have to be scuttled. You cannot have four girls being one Beatle, I am sorry. The Big Four needs to be distributed evenly one-to-one to a relevant Beatle. I am in charge here, so I decide which Beatle approximates Big Four behavior, adjusting for gender and looks. If a Big Four girl has issue, they need to write me, and plead their case, beg me really, okay?)
There’s Gwynnie, a huge Paul McCartney fan, that ever-popular and talented Beatle. Gwynnie is very successful, and, like Paul, may be criticized for being too pop-centric, or too up front about, shh, sex (okay, not Paul, this might be more Gwynnie). Gwynnie is a single Mom of two perfect kids (who excel at absolutely everything, they do) trying to make it in a World of status-seekers, and insane pressures.
Then there’s Ashley, John Lennon brought back to life in a gorgeous, feminine package (the Big Three get jealous when I show bias). She sticks to her principles at all costs, and faces huge agitation from idiots who try to stand in her way, all the while making the world safe for defenseless, street urchins from India to Bangalore. In the streets of Calcutta, Ashley is often mistaken for Mother Teresa because of her kindness, but certainly never because of appearance — Ashley looks like a super-model.
Charlize, our George kindred spirit, the quiet, Zen Beatle, into self-actualization, and also into doing good for the world. I keep Tweeting her that she should get a refund from the orphanage because of the spirited, linoleum lizards she adopted (who already have Charlize’s loving heart), but my schemes are to no avail, Charli, the Face, is so true blue towards everyone.
Last, but never least in any sense, there’s Heather, a Doppelganger for wild Ringo (a Doppelganger if Ringo had a large bosom, and a super model’s face), who is always up for a good time — when she’s not saving Gotham. Life is a party, this is Heather and Ringo’s motto. To put this more simply, Heather is the tailgate party Beatle. She is a real sweetheart though, and as a philanthropist assists with Cambodian relief agencies.
The Annual Pantheon Sextravaganza We’ll be having the Annual Pantheon Sextravaganza again this year. Same place, the El Dorado Bar and Motel — it’s the motel by the Hollywood Freeway underpass. One change this year is that instead of party clothes, to reduce the spread of STDs, you’ll get a sterile, paper hospital gown to switch into upon arrival. We have use of the lost and found bin so we’ll use that for your clothes.
Okay, I’ll admit the year prior attendance was lighter than we had hoped... Okay, it was just Kim K and Kenya, and Kenya was asked to leave after he charged the podium. Kim stripped and shimmied in the lobby for tips, which wasn’t entirely unwelcome as she was between pregnancies for once, and the game was on anyway.
Next year we hope to have the Pantheon girls climbing the side of the Trump Building naked to get the word out about our Sextravaganza. If you would like to help with next year’s Sextravaganza with any suggestions, such as truck stops with lodging that are unfrequented by the police, you may send them using this link.
Regarding Copyright Please read this link for information how Copyright Law, and the Fair Use Doctrine, permits the use of stills on this page. Considering that their placement here promotes movies and their actresses, I fail to see how anyone could have cause to ask for their removal. Yet if you have legal standing, and you want me to remove your photograph displayed here, just send me a note indicating the photo and the reason for the removal request, and I will do so immediately. Priority service goes to those sending nude photos...
1. Just before schooners set sail for extended voyages to discover new passageways; a fair, captivating, friendly, and charismatic maiden would stand ashore blessing their craft, bidding them farewell, wishing them Godspeed and a safe return transit. Later, desperately home sick for their life on land, sailors would think of her the most, and prayed she awaited them upon their return. In point of fact, she is acknowledged as the reason why they stayed true to a most perilous course. A woman such as this was known as a ship-launcher.
2. Keepsakes reminding one of a ship-launcher.
3. A Pantheon woman.
Why wasn’t I included in the Pantheon? You may be a Hollywood actress wondering why you have not yet been inducted into the Other Letter’s Pantheon page. You’re a likable actress. You’re professional, you’re not a prima donna. You’re noted for your work — both on the sound stage, and for the public good — as well as your intelligence. Your talents sets you apart from the pack, and you never got an acting job by sleeping with anyone, or out of nepotism. If this sounds like you, then you’re in, we welcome you to the Pantheon.
If the Pantheon appointee has signed on to endorsement deals with which the Other Letter Nominating Committee — or in this instance, the Review Board as well — finds exception, we will work with said Pantheon appointee until an agreed upon “middle ground” is reached. This adjudication process must take place regardless of however arbitrary the Pantheon’s negative evaluation may seem to the confused neophyte. Usually this means pulling out of her endorsement contract by the end of the week, but the starlet knows full well that this is a small, small price to pay for inclusion on this acclaimed web page, one reviewed daily by those who matter most in Hollywood.
All we need for you to do now, is to send us your admission request, along with any publicity stills I might use. This will soon be the premier go-to, online resource destination for casting directors, so be sure to make the photos your most becoming ones (we’re sorry, but nudity is not yet displayed here, but it will be accepted with your admission packet as an expedient to the admissions process to help us see who you really are). Please be aware, Pantheon candidates who are unattached in relationships get much faster service than those who are (something to do with Screen Actors Guild, marriage status declarations).
Looking at the Pantheon, and seeing the interrelationships between each appointee, you see that being within two or three degrees of separation from Gwyneth Paltrow, Charlize Theron, or Ashley Judd — and recognizing the hunger and ache they have been known to generate in males — will only help your cause immeasurably. Email your admission request packet today, including any neighbor preferences or dislikes, to: Feedback AT OtherLetter DOT com.
Where do super-models stand vis-à-vis the Pantheon? Super-models take note: this is just a Hollywood Pantheon. Unless you have strong ties to Hollywood, or you have a very accomplished resume with substantial supporting imagery, especially the kind South, far South, of an R rating, you’ll need to plead your position with our Admissions Appeals Board.
The reason the point is raised is because we field dozens of Pantheon requests from super-models each and every day. Take someone like Karlie Kloss. She is a very career- and fitness-minded, dedicated, Victoria Secret, super-model — who wouldn’t want her to be on their team? Ms. Kloss is one degree of separation from Taylor Swift so you would suppose she would be a shoo-in for the Pantheon. The Nominating Committee and myself were mulling over this very issue the better part of yesterday — is she Pantheon-worthy or not?
The answer, you may be interested to learn, is yes and no. Karlie has no movie billing to her name, let alone roles in films appearing in theaters as required for an Oscar by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. If there was a Modeling Pantheon, then of course her inclusion would be a given. Yet because the Pantheon rules were written to accommodate jealous starlets, we would have had to turn down her admission request, had she actually sent one to us, which she apparently forgot to do.
I’m Pantheon, how can I vote another off the Island? If you are a Pantheon woman and you just do not feel a fellow appointee is withholding the traditions of Other Letter’s clean-living, pure-as-the-driven-snow oath — they smoke more dope in a weekend than Bob Marley did after ganja harvest; or they’re given the sun, the moon, and the stars, and they still want anything that’s left — you have the right to vote them off the island, so to speak.
In other words, just get five other Pantheon women who agree with your position to establish a quorum — much like the Supreme Court. Have them forward their position statements to me, giving you the right to supersede my authority, and I will remove the offender immediately. This defines democratic governance, the ability to remove undesirables from your presence.
If you are not Pantheon-worthy, either by gender, resumé, or both, you can still vote an appointee off the island, although the requirements are much more stringent. Just organize 100 of your friends together, and have them send us 100 emails stating the valid reasons why they do not like a particular appointee. She will then need to look elsewhere for someone to tout her career, because purity and appearances are of the utmost importance here, as it is everywhere in life.
This is a non-smoking Pantheon. Take a walk among the Pantheon’s grounds. The birds are chirping. Taylor is teaching Charlize and Nicole the lyre, and after a few master classes, Tay will have Cameron singing pitch perfect. Gwyneth is rappelling down the sheer, vertical face of the eleven-story Other Mansion running through a few, tactical security maneuvers in grease paint and khaki fatigues with Uma and Heather. Joni is guest-lecturing on watercolor to Amy. Ashley and Reese are hiking into the back country.
Yet as far as you can see, across Other Meadow, along the beach at Other Lake, or high atop Mount Other, no one is smoking. Why? Because Pantheonettes could get emphysema, or any of the cancers, especially breast cancer. Sure, Pantheon-o-Rama, and Pantheon-4-U do not care if their Pantheonettes fall ill and die, but here at an Other Letter Pantheon, we do care. Go smoke your butts over at a lesser Pantheon, get used to smoking in the cold in January and catch the grippe, and try to forget you’re strapped down to an iron lung.
The Pantheon of Hollywood Women
Betty “Sue Ann” White
(Still from The Mary Tyler Moore Show
Betty White can do no wrong — ever. She is the ultra rare breed of women who really never makes a faux pas. No missteps, no gaffes, never had a undeserved, mean word for anyone. She’s all sweetness and light — and doesn’t this make her a force of nature? She is one of the very few left, or the only one left, in Hollywood who is universally loved and admired...
Betty White is known for a tremendous list of performances, but the ones that I remember most were those of her turn as Sue Ann Nivens on The Mary Tyler Moore Show. There she played the neighborhood nymphomaniac, a competitive, man-obsessed schemer given a WJM Twin Cities, Minnesota, cooking show.
Her homage to the home front, The Happy Homemaker, featured segments like, “A salute to fruit,” or “What’s all this fuss about famine?” Murray Slaughter, the WJM news editor (played by Gavin MacLeod, Captain Merrill Stubing on the Love Boat), would quip that Sue Ann, and her show, should be renamed ”The Happy Home-wrecker.” Sue Ann would address poor Mary Richards, aka Mary Tyler Moore, with perfect condescension “Dear, sweet, naive Mary ...”
While the writing was absolutely top-notch for both The Mary Tyler Moore Show, and The Golden Girls — the shows where she won the most accolades — the awards she values the most are for her comedic acting in The Mary Tyler Moore Show. In a Movieline Interview, Ms. White said of the foundation value of the scripts, “If it isn’t on the page, we can’t do anything about it.”
According to IMDB Pro, Betty has nominated for twenty-one Primetime Emmys, and has taken home seven of them, six for acting. She has also received four Golden Globe noms. Ms. White has appeared on ninety-nine different television shows. She also earned a Screen Actors Guild Lifetime Achievement Award.
Ms. White is the oldest person to host SNL, and won a Primetime Emmy for doing so. Betty is in the Guinness Book of World Records for being the female with the longest career in television.
Ms. White is a registered Democrat, and an ardent animal rights activist. Betty supports gay rights as well, stating, “If a couple has been together all that time — and there are gay relationships that are more solid than some heterosexual ones — I think it’s fine if they want to get married. I don’t know how people can get so anti-something. Mind your own business, take care of your affairs, and don’t worry about other people so much.”
Her husband, television host and personality Allen Ludden died of stomach cancer in 1981. When asked if she would ever remarry, she has been steadfast, “Once you’ve had the best, who needs the rest?” (In the past, Blythe Danner has expressed — and much more than likely still feels — a similar sentiment after the love of her life, Bruce Paltrow, died.)
Cloris “Phyllis” Leachman
(A still fromThe Mary Tyler Moore Show)
Followers of Mary Tyler Moore know that Cloris Leachman’s turn as haughty Phyllis Lindstrom was the only regular on the show with a child in tow, her precocious Bess Lindstrom (excellently played by Lisa Gerritsen, the omnipresent, always working, Seventies child actress). Phyllis was MTM’s landlady and self-described best friend to ever-popular Mary.
Ms. Leachman went on to play the title role in the spin-off series Phyllis for which she won a Golden Globe. Its cancellation after two seasons was partly due to the deaths of three cast members; it became difficult to write scripts when the actors portraying mainstay characters were no more.
Ms. Leachman won the Oscar for Best Actress in a Supporting Role for The Last Picture Show. Cloris is also the biggest Primetime Emmy individual award winner of all time, having won eight statuettes, and nominated over twenty times, for MTM and Malcolm in the Middle, among others. In the latter, she did a turn as Grandma Ida, the Slavic and embittered Canadian (don’t ask me why the part was written as her being Canadian, Slavic, or embittered, because I haven’t a clue).
Cloris appeared in three of Mel Brooks films. She played servant Frau Blücher in 1974’s Young Frankenstein, appeared as the deranged psychiatric nurse in 1977’s High Anxiety, then she did a turn as Madame Defarge in History of the World: Part I from 1981.
Ms. Leachman competed in the Miss America pageant as Miss Chicago, and at Northwestern University she was a classmate of character actor Paul Lynde. After winning a pageant scholarship, she went to the Actor’s Studio in Manhattan to work with Elia Kazan. She has appeared on Broadway in As you like It with Katharine Hepburn.
Cloris was good friends with Judy Garland and Marlon Brando. She is the oldest person ever to appear on Dancing with the Stars.
Carol “Miss Wiggins” Burnett
(Still from The Carol Burnett Show
That’s an über strung-out Norma Desmond
from the recently colorized Sunset Boulevard,
or is this Carol Burnett?
Gabi Rona | © MPTV | mptvimages.com)
Carol Burnett won yet another award, this time at the Golden Globes. She made a few, very interesting remarks about how The Carol Burnett Show could never be created today. For one, it was too expensive to produce, so it would be too dangerous financially to be green-lighted in the present day.
What I need to know is how she ever became so charming, geez, is that woman attractive. Carol, how do you get to be so well-liked? Bottle this, and you will be the richest woman on Earth...
We caught up with Carol Burnett at the Other Letter Comedy Festival, and asked the television legend what she thought of up-and-comers like Amy Schumer. To quote Carol: “I just love what Amy is doing with potty-humor. I mean I love hearing about gas, and of course, women’s periods are pure comic gold. She did such a wonderful job in, what, ‘Stand up and Fart!’ She’s leading the way for the next generation, in her profession, with women in general, and especially all those teens who might look up to her. I’m just in love with her and her work.
“In fact, I was just discussing this with Betty, Betty White, the other day. She said, ‘More than anything we need jokes about drunkenness and drug use. I’ve spent my whole life, all 95 years, waiting for comedians who found the joy in making fun of drunks. Potty humor, too, I love that just as much as the next Hollywood veteran — if not more. And four-letter words, I just can’t get enough of them. Give it to me, Amy.’”
There is a rather pronounced difference between comedy of the Sixties, and that of the late Seventies and beyond. In the former, the comedy is classy, and directed towards people or situations. In the latter, it is directed at people — it is much more pointed, coarse, more edgy, and some might even say, rude. I would say that like music of the same era, the new, hard-edge is a product of the American War in Viet Nam. That televised, steamy jungle bloodbath, was brought to us courtesy a tragically misled Johnson Administration, and an entirely untrustworthy Nixon White House. It blackened and soured America’s character, a sullying from which we have never recovered. Fortunately for us, The Carol Burnett Show just got in under the wire...
I always needed a context and a forum to say what I just said about culture and Viet Nam, and unfortunately for Ms. Burnett, I just got one. The Carol Burnett Show sketches I remember most were: Miss Wiggins, the secretary with her own entirely, separate agenda from her boss, Mister Tudball; Norma Desmond, silent screen star; Tim Conway answering a fire call in imperceptibly-slow motion; and the Char Woman mopping up when it was all said and done. The theme song for her show — originally, and not so aptly, entitled Here’s Agnes — is actually touching: “Aren’t we glad we had this time together, just to have a laugh, or sing a song. Seems we just get started and before you know it, comes the time we have to say, so long...” I remember every word forty years later.
The reason she ended every show by tugging on her ear was to indicate to her grandmother that all was well, grandma didn’t have to worry about her. Both of her parents were dealing with their alcoholism, and rather icily, her mother even discouraged her ambitions to become an actress, simply on the basis of her not a super-model looks.
Then there was her Tarzan bit, which I doubt she could pull off if she looked like Marilyn Monroe. Carol also had more than just a few parody sketches during her eleven year run at CBS, including: Went with the Wind, a play on Gone with the Wind, and As the Stomach Turns, a take on the soap opera, As the World Turns.
Jane “Golden Age” Fonda
How can anyone not love Jane Fonda, a woman who’s eighty-one years of age, and who was arrested for protesting an American government that is at the behest of Big Oil, that refuses to seperate oil and State, and that makes clean energy a low priority.
Ms. Fonda is an American hero, she isn’t afraid to fight for all she believes. Is there anyone that stands up for her principles, has her strength of character, and of her convictions that Jane does? She doesn’t just make octogenarians proud, she makes anyone with a conscience proud. Keep fighting the good fight, way to be, Ms. Fonda...
When Jane Fonda was standing beside a Viet Cong anti-aircraft gun in July of 1972, her intent was to shorten a war that was already eight years long, whose carnage was on the nightly news daily, and whose bloodshed had no end in sight. Looking at that picture, and seeing her smile with her hands clasped in what is apparently prayers for mercy from American aggression, she made her point (unfortunately, I lack the Copyright to display the image).
With Nixon certain of a landslide re-election, the prevailing ethos, if you would like to call it that, was to carpet bomb and napalm the yellow-skinned ox-mushers until the end of time. Isn’t that the Spirit of America, to squash Viet Nam’s self-determination by a nation founded on it?
Ms. Fonda was attempting to make a statement against imperialism — and trolls are still forcing her to reiterate it unto this day, more than forty years later. How else to demonstrate that they’re not the mortal enemy, when they’re just like us. Given the American-initiated carnage, I am just surprised that she herself did not open fire on U.S. planes. Ms. Fonda was a major participant in the anti-War movement who, with her formidable courage, did all she could to turn the tide against the bloody slaughter.
Ms. Fonda just won the American Film Institute’s Lifetime Achievement Award. All those who spoke there touched on her uncanny acting talent, her activism in a wide variety of causes and her philanthropy, being a fitness guru, her tremendous breadth of life experience, her stellar degree of accomplishment, her unparalleled courage, and her stellar depth of character.
By the way, she has won two Academy Awards: for Klute, and Coming Home, as well as five nominations for On Golden Pond and The China Syndrome among others.
Meryl “The Trickster” Streep
See if you can see the same overacting with the performances of the “World’s Greatest Actress” that I see...
The problem one can see with Meryl Streep, and her overacting, is that she doesn’t emote, or feel for her character, she much more relies on thought processes than she does emotional ones.
Her arms flail nearly spasmodically, yet she remains far removed from genuine authentic human expression. You could blame the director, except she does this in almost every film of hers.
This is the problem I have with The World’s Greatest Actress — she overacts. Her gesticulations, while maintaining interest, do not occupy a portion of the human register for genuine, authentic expression.
She is a modern and mechanical actress, a Method one, who’s less in tune with the natural emotion of the script, than she is with playing it up big, and over the top, for the Hollywood cameras.
This is fine in the American acting school, but it does not hold up well against the European, and especially French, standard. The French are fluid and understated; Stateside, their leader is hyperactive, unusually demonstrative (as if she were a silent film actress), and wooden and stiff emotionally.
Have a look at a few prime examples, like the Julia Child biography, Julia, Julie, made in 2009. Her director or drama coach may offer some type of an explanation, but still, finding other examples didn’t take very long at all. This was not send up comedy either, where the actors are expected to ham up their performance...
I only offer this so Ms. Streep can become a Hollywood screen legend like Greta Garbo. Greta embodied authenticity, the genuine, and staying true to human nature. Can Meryl surpass or even approach Greta Garbo’s performance in Camille? None other than Bette Davis was gob smacked by Greta’s talents, and “her mastery over the machine [and acting entirely naturally while acting in a role]...”
Meryl Streep has been nominated for more Academy Award and Golden Globes than any other actor ever has, 18 and 28, respectively. When she doesn’t win the Oscar she’s been nominated for, is it only because it is time for someone else to win?
Every Oscar-win and nomination that went to Streep could have went to someone who didn’t overact, but the Academy was blind to Streep’s unnatural portrayals. For instance, how many times was Blythe Danner overlooked in her career in favor of Streep’s wildly swinging arms?
Blythe “America’s Mom” Danner
Still of Blythe Danner in Madoff. Eric Liebowitz/ABC | © 2015 American Broadcasting Companies, Inc. All rights reserved.
Used without permission, and I haven’t a clue as to how to get it. I’m promoting your work, so leave me alone. Sorry, Blythe, just talking business with Eric here.
Blythe Danner recently described Chadley, her daughter’s (aka Gwyneth Paltrow’s) fiancé, as being someone she adores and is well-grounded. Couldn’t a friend of her son Moses — the one the whole family is tiring of, because he only shows up conniving for ice cream treats — be described with the same set of adjectives? Okay, I’m jealous, but why wouldn’t Gwynnie and Blythe want to add a blogger to the Paltrow-Danner clan? What does Chadley have that I don’t?
I have six-pack abs, I can bench over 400 pounds, and my sexual stamina is the stuff of legend. I have been a member of Mensa, the one for geniuses, since the second grade, and I regularly prepare Cordon Bleu meals that rival 3-Star Michelin restaurants in Paris. What is not to like, Ms. Danner? Same question for you, Gwynnie: What is not to like?
Don’t fall for some weakling who couldn’t take Gwynnie to new heights. While those two are thinking this over, I’ll do 20 sets of 50 rep curls of 150 pounds each bicep. Robert Downey Junior shouldn’t be doing Ironman, that part was written for me...
Blythe Danner is known everywhere for her stage, silver screen, and TV work. She won a Tony for her portrayal of a devil-may-care divorcée in Butterflies Are Free, and was nominated for two other Tonys, one for A Streetcar Named Desire, and later for Betrayal. Ms. Danner has been nominated for five Primetime Emmys, taking home the statuette for Huff. She was also nominated for a Golden Globe for her work in Back When We Were Grownups.
Ms. Danner has starred on Broadway in The Country House, an homage to stage actors, as they might appear to be a vanishing breed. While the New York Times review of the play was essentially positive, they could not say any kinder words for Blythe than they already did — the review they gave her was absolutely glowing.
Congratulations on another great performance by Ms. Danner in the Sundance Film Festival sensation, I’ll See You in My Dreams. Believe it or not, in Blythe’s fifty years of performing artistry, this is her first leading role on the silver screen, and it had gotten buzz as a possible 2016, Oscar contender. This woman is so endearing, any praise she gets she deflects, she is that modest.
The roles for which many cinema-goers might know her best though, are as a mom in Meet the Parents, and its spin-offs, Meet the Fockers and Little Fockers. She also did a truly wonderful turn in Brighton Beach Memoirs, playing Neil Simon’s always-insightful mother in another of the playright’s classics. For five years, Blythe frequently appeared as Marilyn Truman, the WASP-y mother of Will Truman on the unusually progressive Will and Grace. Ms. Danner regularly gets cast for wholesome, and far less than wholesome, maternal figures, ones who possess an understated charm. Ms. Danner has a classy, socially gracious, feminine manner that is so enjoyable to watch.
Blythe is Mom to Gwyneth Paltrow, and they have appeared together in 2003’s Sylvia, the story of Sylvia Plath. Here, Ms. Danner played the mother of Gwynnie’s title role. In 1992, they were also together in Cruel Doubt, a TV movie.
Ms. Danner has performed in the Williamstown Summer Theater Festival for 25 years, serving on its Board of Directors as well. Ms. Danner is very active in a number of causes including those concerned with the environment and oral cancer — the disease that took the life of her husband, Bruce Paltrow, in 2002.
“Elvis’ Girl” Ann-Margaret
Ann Margaret will be the first to tell you that Elvis represented an innocence lost forever. In interviews, she cannot stomach jabs at Elvis, her ex, as he has been the victim of mean-spirited derision for years and years. Ann Margaret has walked out on any interview where they tried to compromise her memory of him.
For ten years until his death, Elvis Presley sent her a guitar-shaped flower arrangement to every stage show she opened in Vegas...
Ann-Margaret was born Ann-Margaret Olsson in Sweden (a strawberry blond knockout, who would have guessed?) She is a triple threat in entertainment. She can sing with authority, dance like it was her only talent, and she can act like nobody’s business. Bye, bye, Birdie is a classic of hers. She falls hard for rock star Conway Birdie, then realizes he’s very superficial.
She was twice nominated for an Academy Award, for Carnal Knowledge as the open-hearted giver opposite an icy and abusive Jack Nicholson. Ann-Margaret was later nominated again for Tommy as Tommy’s mother, Nora Walker Hobbs, a role where, covered in food, she got really, really messy.
For much of her early career she was labeled a sex kitten, so she chose many dramatic roles to showcase her acting talents, and to prove to critics that she was much more than an exceptionally great-looking woman. She’s been in seriously good company. She sang “Baby, Won’t You Please Come Home” at President John F. Kennedy’s private birthday party at the Waldorf-Astoria, one year after Marilyn Monroe’s famous rendition of ”Happy Birthday.”
In 2000, she broke three ribs riding her motorcycle in rural Minnesota. Honest to god. She’s that hardcore.
Susan “Janet” Sarandon
The Rocky Horror Picture Show)
Can anyone ever forget Susan Abigail Sarandon as the haughty, yet so overwhelmingly sexy, virginal Janet Weiss in The Rocky Horror Picture Show? Her hot as blazes breakthrough performance in that 1975 cult classic firmed up her reputation as a seductively feminine, delicious force of nature. Susan abetted this reputation with a turn in The Hunger, where she most scandalously (for the time, at least) had a sapphic encounter with French siren Catherine Deneuve.
Yet these were only a small portion of her work in the cinema as Ms. Sarandon has been billed as an actress in 127 films (at last count). Susan has earned Academy Award nominations for leading roles in five of these, the one foremost in many minds being the girls-on-the-lam buddy movie, Thelma & Louise. Yet Dead Man Walking — the true story of a nun, played by Ms. Sarandon, who befriends a death row inmate in Louisiana — is the one role that brought home the Oscar for her.
Susan is deeply involved in progressive causes such as ending poverty and hunger, stopping LGBT discrimination, taking down racists, and galvanizing anti-war support. In her pacifism efforts, she has teamed alongside Jane Fonda. She is also a UNICEF Goodwill Ambassador, and Food and Agricultural Organization of the United Nations, Goodwill Ambassador.
Diane “Broadway Baby” Lane
(Still of Diane Lane in Fierce People
Diane is having a nice life, but not exactly a charmed one.)
Diane’s career has been taking off of late, which is great news considering that most actresses past fifty are ready for the old age home. She has been in features each of the last seven years, and she currently has another two films, and one TV pilot, in pre-production. That woman is doing something very right, and she’s so nice and sexy about everything while she is. Sigh...
If every woman looked like Diane Lane, was as kind as Diane Lane, and aged like Diane Lane, you know what this would mean? That’s right, an overpopulation crisis like this world has never ever seen. Let us all give thanks that Diane is the only one as beautiful as she is...
Thankfully, Diane hasn’t gone the way of Jenny C with boob reduction work. Just like we preserve our national parks, we really need to preserve starlets’ natural resources, and that is their cleavage. We’re pretty sure Diane chose aesthetics over hoisting and holstering manageability. Bravo, Diane, bravo. We’ll see her at the movies.
Next up, is Charli getting all these great roles recently because her chest isn’t threatening to both men and women? And is Diane being overlooked because her over-sized knockers frighten many, if not most, women?
Because these actresses don’t do Triple-X, or even NC-17 rated fare, we never see what’s under the hood so to speak, we never see them topless. It’s foolish to make them smaller to make them look better, we never see the goodies unsheathed, we only see the outlines of them. So even if they are sagging navel-grazers, with proper boulder-holders, we, the interested movie-goers, are never the wiser...
Diane Lane reminds me of both Maggie Gyllenhaal and Jennifer Connelly. Ms. Lane has the looks, the smarts, and the talent, but she has not been given the roles worthy of them. She has been in 36 films, of these, I knew of only Under the Tuscan Sun and The Perfect Storm. Hollywood is very capricious and fickle especially when you’re less the latest trend, her acting prospects are more proof of this.
Notwithstanding, she was nominated for an Oscar for her work in Unfaithful, a drama about Connie Sumner, a fundraiser who enters an extra-marital affair, after a chance encounter with a man on the street (this is about as hot as it gets in legitimate cinema). She has also earned three Golden Globe nominations.
In Hillary, Diane was to play the title role in NBC’s scheduled bio pic about Hillary Rodham Clinton, but the production was cancelled due to the potential for Republican demands for equal broadcast time. She is living proof that more mature women can still look great, I mean really, really great — Blythe Danner being another sterling example.
Along with Tony Shalhoub, known for his long-running television show, Monk, Ms. Lane starred in the Lincoln Center’s Mitzi E. Newhouse Theater production of The Mystery of Love and Sex. This is the story of a pair of childhood friends whose relationship turns romantic over their parents’ objections. Once it does, long-held secrets of both families are revealed, throwing everyone into a tumult. Unfortunately, this was a 2015 limited engagement, hopefully she will be doing more theater work soon. Before Love and Sex, Diane last appeared on the New York stage at the age of 12 in 1977 in the Shakespeare Festival’s Agamemnon.
Most recently, Diane was at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner, and looked as glamorous as ever — she simply will not age. Ms. Lane is a joy to behold. Diane has so much going on upstairs, and she seems sweeter than pie.
Diane was just at an Oceana something or other, some celebration of what, water? But she looked great as she always does. She is a breathtaking woman. Honestly, she’s fifty-plus, she could pass for under forty... 2016’s SAG Awards, again, sigh.
Meg “Sally” Ryan
(When Harry met Sally ... trailer)
The New York Times has called Meg Ryan, “the soul of romantic comedy.” She played Sally Albright in Nora Ephron’s When Harry Met Sally ... with Billy Crystal. Then she portrayed Annie Reed, a reporter finally finding true love opposite Tom Hanks in Sleepless in Seattle.
Another major starring role was that of Kathleen Kelly in You’ve Got Mail. In this rom-com, emailing lovers do not realize the object of their affection, outside cyberspace, is someone they do not like. Meg was nominated for the Golden Globe for all three of these performances.
Most recently, Meg will produce and star in a new comedy on NBC about a former big-time, big-league, New York editor. Meg’s character returns to her previous publishing house employ where her young, neurotic boss was her former intern. Meanwhile, she has to keep her teenage kids, her husband, and her mother-in-law all happy, but when she tries her best, it inevitably makes matters much worse. Ricky!
Ms. Ryan supports environmental causes, and with them, supports the party that has the better record in that area.
Marisa “Mona Lisa” Tomei
Marisa was recently at the White House honoring the Friends of the White House, or some such party-til-dawn extravaganza, probably trying to scrounge up enough cash to build another wing. They have an East and a West Wing, maybe they need a wing for recreation, say to have skeet shooting off the balcony. You never know down there in Washington. She might have asked me to go with her as her date, but I’m pretty sure I had other plans that week, so thanks, but no thanks. Bet she looked a tad foolish trying to hold her own in foreign policy cocktail talk without me by her side. Oh well, what can you do? There’s only so much one man can accomplish by himself...
Watch Marisa Tomei’s interview on the CBC from 2012 with George Stroumboulopoulos, and you can easily see that she has a gift in relating to people. Marisa is not a scripted talking head or a rehearsed sound bite, she has plenty to offer on an usually wide variety of topics.
I am not even sure how physically good-looking Marisa is, but she has to be one of the most sexy women on the planet. Her sex appeal is just off the charts.
Facets of her appeal are based on experiential, social, and cultural sophistication, whereas many starlets’ attractiveness is only based on the fact that they are the end products of the handiwork of a scalpel-wielding plastic surgeon. This Tuscan charmer impresses with every turn — yet she is not the least bit jaded. Marisa unwittingly, yet instinctively, draws you into her heart, and into her soul.
A recent survey of the literature, or the paparazzi porn, as it is more affectionately known, shows Ms. Tomei looking not much different — or not any different at all — from the way she looked when she first won over our hearts twenty-three years ago, in My Cousin Vinny. Follow the link prior, and you get to cry at the misfortune of not being her boyfriend (I wouldn’t say “the misfortune of never being her boyfriend,” because winning Lotto is also within the realm of human possibility, and her complete inaccessibility is otherwise too depressing to contemplate).
On March 13th of 2014, Ms. Tomei began a week of previews for her sixth Broadway stage play, The Realistic Joneses (she has had leading roles in three of them). This is the comedy about two couples with the same last name and identical homes, who must choose between a perfect fantasy, or a hard reality, a choice that will have deep reverberations throughout the rest of their days. The playwright, Will Eno, was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize in Drama, so between the acting and writing talent, this has to be one top-notch production.
...Ms. Tomei remains extremely busy, as she will be performing the recurring role of Mimi Whiteman in Fox’s Empire. Ms. Whiteman is a billionaire who desires beautiful young women, and she makes sure that she gets all she desires. Marisa will also be Aunt May, Peter Parker’s surrogate mom, in the next installment of the Spiderman franchise. Then Ms. Tomei will portray Gloria Steinem in the soon to be produced biopic about the feminist leader’s life.
Marisa has been nominated for three Academy Awards, and won Best Actress for her work in My Cousin Vinny. Marisa radiates a natural, effortless gracefulness, but I bet this very stylish, Oscar-winner only dates philanthropists.
Sandra “Congeniality” Bullock
(While You were Sleeping trailer)
Part of Sandra Bullock’s popularity lies in her disarming candor and sincerity. She is a great comic actress, as seen in Two Weeks Notice. Yet in The Blind Side, her versatility and range is evinced. In this non-fictional portrayal of Leigh Anne Tuohy — an adoptive mother of an abandoned youth who later became a Baltimore Ravens offensive lineman — Ms. Bullock plays a take charge, no time for nonsense, very confident Tennesseean. For her work in this, Ms. Bullock won a Golden Globe, a Screen Actors’ Guild award, and an Oscar.
Most recently, Saundra was again Oscar-nominated for her leading role in Gravity. In this gripping, sci-fi spectacular, Sandy plays an astronaut cut from her mother ship tether, and left adrift in the vacuum of outer space.
Sandra’s work bringing Ryan Stone to life made $716 million internationally for Gravity, and also put her atop Forbes 2014 list of the highest-earning actresses with $51 million. Using a common metric, you are doing just fine if you earn the equivalent of your age times one thousand. Ms. Bullock, recently celebrating her fiftieth birthday, earns her age times one million.
The same year, in the sleeper, The Heat, Sandy was Ashburn, a by-the-book New York City, FBI Special Agent teamed with Mullins, her foil, a streetwise Boston cop played by Melissa McCarthy.
Sandra gave a million dollars apiece to relief organizations: after the tsunami in Asia, to the Red Cross after 9/11, and to Doctors Without Borders, after the 2010 Haiti earthquake. By every indication, Sandy is the easy-going and down-to-earth type, it’s easy to become friends with her.
Julia “Megawatt Smile” Roberts
Mystic Pizza rightly made Julia Roberts the star she was born to be. Her buoyant portrayal of Daisy Arujo is truly remarkable. Not only is her Daisy having a time she will never forget, one senses Ms. Roberts is as well. This set the stage, as it were, for later leading lady roles like Pretty Woman.
Julia possesses great strength of character, and has an exceptionally interesting and well-rounded personality. She is not just another pretty, silly girl prancing across the sound stage in stiletto heels.
Ms. Roberts was nominated for four Oscars, and brought the statuette home for her work in Erin Brockovich, the true story about a legal assistant who almost single-handedly takes on a multi-billion dollar water supply polluter. If you want to see a completely convincing acting performance, see Julia as Erin.
Her movies have grossed $2.6 billion, putting her 17th on the all-time money list for actors, and in second place for actresses, behind Cameron Diaz. She has been on People’s annual list of the “50 Most Beautiful People in the World” eleven times, tying her with Halle Barry.
Halle “Freedom” Berry
Today, Halle posted a photo of her with a butterfuly on her hand. A troll found the joy in diminishing the otherwise happy moment by saying that her “hand looks like a construction worker’s.”
Then does the full body of this full-figured beauty look like a construction worker’s as well? Halle handled all of this graciously, and in stride, even though social media is run over, and run by, homo trolls...
Halle Berry, née Maria Halle Berry, is the first actress with an African-American lineage to win an Academy Award for a performance in a leading role. She won this for Monster’s Ball, the story of a prison guard who falls in love with the wife of the prisoner he just executed. Halle has been involved in producing five of the films in which she has starred.
She also won a Golden Globe for playing the title role in Introducing Dorothy Dandridge, the true and poignant portrayal of an actress very cruelly victimized by racism, yet still nominated in 1954 for an Academy Award. Ms. Berry has also been nominated for three other Golden Globes. Besides all this, she has squared off against Sharon Stone in Catwoman.
Halle regularly sweeps the awards for people of color including the Black Entertainment Television (BET), and NAACP Image Awards, and she was nominated seven times for MTV Movie Awards.
Ms. Berry has strongly voiced her support of women’s issues, and just as vociferously her objection to paparazzi terrorizing her kids. Halle has been on the lists of the most beautiful, sexiest, and hottest women on Earth, by People (making the Top Ten seven times), Esquire, FHM, Empire, and Men’s Health.
Ashley “Girl in Trouble” Judd
(Ashley Judd’s, rights-unresticted, Instagram feed)
If Ashley has issue with the re-publication of a photo of her in the hospital, then we’re all in trouble, the entire nation has lost its way.
Ashley is recuperating following a bout of severe migraines. I’d say that these are due to her coming testimony in the Harvey Weinstein sexual harassment trial. Seen here, she is swallowing an entire peach pie in one sitting as hospital food is, well, hospital food.
This is the holiday season which means just one thing, Ashley Judd Public Service Announcements for Baby Jesus. Here is one of her best:
Ashley in anger: “Kent, you can’t have it both ways, not on my watch.”
Then a man in a beret: “And cut!”
A stagehand calls out to Ashley: “Great work, Ms. Judd!”
Ashley, walking towards the camera: “I know, but did you also know that Baby Jesus is under attack by the homo. That’s right, the homo is attacking our pure and Holy house of worship, be it Methodist — where I call home — Baptist, Fundamentalist, or Pentacostal. Dang, even the Catholics are getting hit hard by the homo.
“That’s right, the queer are everywhere. The only way to save your house of worship from the homo is by eradicating them via your tax-exempt donations. We have very effective programs in place that work at starving the homo from all rights, they just need funding.
“Please, give us your money, so we can root out and terminate the gay and lesbo. I am Ashley Judd, and on behalf of the Methodist Church, I endorse this message...”
[Last Easter, Ashley was still espousing her affiliation for the Methodist Church, another Christian, hate group. She may have changed her tune, I cannot say for certain. This is an admittedly, very weak attempt to keep her on the straight and narrow (no pun intended)...]
Gabrielle Union was fired from America’s got Talent for being uppity. Ashley Judd is firmly in her camp, but has Ashley noticed how Gabrielle shows off her figure? She is absolutely asking for all manner of abuse once she wears clingy, low-cut dresses.
Ashley, how can you deny the obvious? It is time you faced facts. Girls who are sexually assaulted are wearing inappropriate, provocative clothing. Ashley, get real, anytime a woman is not wearing a burqa, she is begging to be raped. Why can’t you see this, Ashley?
In private, women fantasize about being raped, but when they get in public, and are offered rape by an abiding stranger, they go ballistic with the lawyers, and the police. Why do they no longer want to be raped?
Women are very hypocritical. One minute, they’re screaming, “I want rape,” The next minute, they’re screaming bloody murder when they get exactly what they wanted, and by someone who obviously found the raped attractive, or they wouldn’t have bothered. Face it, Ashley, a rape is a favor. It is a greeting in a strange land. It says, “I find you attractive.” A rape is intimacy between two, who are not yet lovers.
Talking sense to Ashley Judd about anything related to gender relations is like shouting down a well, no one is at the other end to hear what I’m saying. Judd, the raped are the ones that need to be held accountable, not the rapist, because rapists are only following their instincts. The raped beg to be raped with their tight, form-fitting dresses. What is preventing you from seeing the truth here?
If women lived in deference to men, don’t you think rapes would happen less often? Judd, instead of getting women to step up, you should really be getting them to step down, and take their just punishments like women. Judd, what you need to do with your feminism malarkey, is make it as a set of laws requiring women’s assent to men’s needs. Then, and only then, would the urge to rape, peter out.
Justifiably, women are second-class citizens. Why did Eve eat the apple, and poison mankind forever with evil? Guys don’t do wrong, women do, beginning in Biblical times, in the Garden of Eden. Get real, Judd...
Everyone knows that Ashley’s ex races at Indy, but did you also knows that PINK 99 on the NASCAR circuit is none other than Ms. Judd? She tries to keep it kinda hush-hush, but every Saturday, all summer long, Ashley is out there grinding gears over blacktop.
Her Team Ashley represents Chevrolet, stock car division. The pit crew radio can be picked up by racing fans at the track, so we have this excerpt from her legendary, first place finish at the 2015, Daytona 500:
“I can’t get around 77, is that Andretti’s car? Do you copy? Why the f*ck is he going wide on turn three every f*cking lap? He’s a danger to every car on the field. Patch this through to Daytona brass: 77 is reckless. If they don’t do something, I will take matters into my own hands!
“Would you look at this? Check the cameras at turn one, just look! We don’t need road hogs, Andretti! Mario’s tempting me now, I’m about to plow him right into the wall. Don’t force my hand, Andretti. You wanna demolition derby, hmm? You wanna play tough with Ashley, hmm?
“Well, that’s better, he’s heading down pit row. Andretti learn to drive your f*cking, jalopy Ford, okay?...
“Where was I? Here, I am. Lap two-hundred, and wuddya know, there’s the checkered flag. Lil’ old me won! And I didn’t cause any deadly accidents!
“I’ll be bringing home the Daytona Beach Cup for every girl who ever had a dream they could steer to the left with the best of ’em. For every girl who’s ever dreamt of pole position, and leaving rubber in fourth gear in front of a million loonies, we have a green flag waving for you...”
Every year around Thanksgiving, the Pantheon all sit at the twenty-seat kitchen table and engage in a parlour game. While Ashley racing-tunes her Maserati, we debate whether or not she will absolve herself of her adoration of Baby Jesus this year. We keep telling her that Christmas reinforces misogyny and homophobia of Baby Jesus’ tax-exempt, hate group.
Then we wait a week or two, and my lapsing side always loses, as Ashley once again doubles down on Baby Jesus. She reminds all of us, social media followers to obey the dictates of Baby Jesus, and be a good misogynist and homophobe, because the Baby wanted it that way...
I wasn’t expecting to see this advert on cable:
“Ashley Judd here, to introduce you to the baby Jesus doll that makes poop. Baby Jesus died so you could sin perpetually, and have everlasting life. In return, you offer penance to satisfy Baby Jesus, and what better penance is there then changing his diapers every day?
“That’s why my Methodist Church is offering the Baby Jesus Pooping Doll, and for just twelve convenient payments of just $19.99 a month. With the Baby Jesus Pooping Doll, Baby Jesus means much more to me now, than he ever has, if that’s somehow possible.
“Oops! Time to change my baby, my Baby Jesus Doll. Oh, baby, Baby Jesus! Our love affair rages on! May it never end!...”
[I write this because of how the earlier Ashley relates to Baby Jesus. This may no longer be true. She may have given up on Baby Jesus, then this is without any substance. If she still “loves Jesus,” as she’s said, then this post is of significance.
I have gotten expert at belittling Ashley’s current or former Christianity, so I’ll lose a major source of satire if she has, in fact, left the cult of Christianity, and joined the rest of the human race.]
Ashley and me were heading out on a road trip, and we needed to gas up. As readers of my column know, Ashley weighs four-hundred-fifty pounds, so we needed to stock up on Milky Way bars. My Enduro Rolls needed gas (yes, you can get a Rolls-Royce for off-roading), so I got a fillup at Kentucky, prestige gas station, Thorntons.
I usually get a receipt for my credit card purchase, for both myself and to monitor Ashley’s Milky Way bar intake. Now, I was very suprised, no, I think the word I’m looking for is stunned, that I needed to ask inside for a receipt. On Long Island, you just press a button when prompted, in Kentucky, you hustle up a receipt from the sleeping gas station attendant.
I know, welcome to the Heartland, and down home, Fundamentalist values, but why do they make it so difficult to get a receipt for my gasoline purchase? I asked Ashley that same question, but her head was buried in yet another Milky Way bar...
Exclusive to the Other Letter: Ashley Judd has given up on the #MeToo movement. Citing her inability to get work in Hollywood anymore, she said she’s more than willing to have directors and producers come on to her, before, during, or after shoots.
“My feminism is meaningless if it means I cannot act in movies anymore.
“I’m much more than willing to have some producer cop a feel, and have my tushy regularly goosed, or even spanked, if I can land a part in a film that speaks to me.
“I’m game for lap-dancing in front of the crew, if it helps me get on board an Oscar-winner. Screw Gloria Steinem. I don’t need her crap, I really don’t...”
At Other Letter, we pride ourselves on finding news scoops that no other publication has found. For instance, Ashley Judd’s weight has been drifting higher and higher. These days, she tips the scales at over 450 pounds. Ashley has abandoned civilized life. For instance, she no longer posts to her social media account. That’s how far South she’s gone.
One afternoon, Ashley broke through the third floor of her mansion, onto the second floor, to the first, and straight into the basement. Nashville Fire and Rescue needed the jaws of life to extract Ashley from her shattered ping-pong table. But at least she eats well.
Once she went over the 400 pound threshold, the roles started disappearing, except for a 007, James Bond villain part she auditoned for, but did not get.
Ashley has a weekly auto-order from Amazon for Milky Way bars that are delivered to her home to avoid detection. When the package arrives she jumps up and down, starts clapping, which causes the earth to shake and frightens her postal courier. Her courier knows to keep her hands away from Ashley’s face during her feeding frenzy.
Ashley, if you’re out there, the first step to getting back down to 300 pounds, is to not be ashamed of who or what you are. So what if you’re morbidly obese, and you let yourself go? The main thing is that you still enjoy life, chomping on Milky Way bars all day.
Here’s Other Letter at a Big Four Team Meeting: “I think we should do something for Ashley. I mean she does weigh 450 pounds. Maybe a basket of cheer with a pineapple, oranges, and apples? Just no chocolate because she does weigh 450 pounds. Isn’t that a great idea?
“Make it a super-huge, cheer basket because it’s nutritious and she weighs 450 pounds. Southerners eat crap. They don’t eat well at all. I read in the Other Letter that she eats Milky Ways all day everyday. What a resource this Other Letter is.”
Big Four Girls nod in agreement: “We know. It is such a resource. We’re putting him in for a Pulitzer, whoever he is. He deserves Best blog on the East Coast.”
Other Letter offers more: “No, make the award go for all of America. But back to Ashley. I seriously think we should get her a basket of cheer, and I bet we can get her below 400 by New Years. We need to get her mind off of the Milky Way bars. 400 pounds by New Years — we can do this. Just keep going on and on about her favorite topic of chit-chat.
“Big three, what we should do is indulge her in her bible studies. Humor her. Just say any crap: That’s why baby Jesus sought redemption from the Pharisees. His people needed wheat without locusts.”
Ashley overheard that as she enters the Pantheon kitchen: “Wait! What?!! Geez, locusts, the bible has new surprises every read. Wow, what’s your source! Is this in the concordance? I’ve practically memorized the concordance though.”
Gwynnie of the Big Three, ever the class clown: “We’ve all memorized the concordance, Ashley. Oh, yeah, you’ll find it in the concordance. It’s in the index under ‘Jesus and locusts.’”
Ashley: “You’ve just opened new worlds for me. I’m putting down the Milky Way bars...”
Overheard from the writing room for The Ashley Judd Variety Hour, Spook-tacular Special featuring Baby Jesus:
What is Baby Jesus’ motivation? Why is he trick-or-treating with me? Is he seeking redemption from the heathens? Come on, I’m coming up with all the ideas here. Do we have a Halloween costume yet for Baby Jesus? Come on Bill? John? Ted, talk, please? Come on.
If we don’t find our audience, CBS brass will cancel the Variety Hour. Bill? Come on, John. Ted? I thought we already established Baby Jesus’ character arc.
He comes on the scene as this Halloween legend, shaking things up in Your Town, USA. Yet he’s crucified, he’s brutally egged, until I save him. I call upon the teens’ common decency, and Jesus levitates them away, he whisks them away from Your Town. This is the perfect Halloween!
I’m the idea woman here, and I’m not sure I wanna be. Come on, back up, I need back up! I got my ’coon eye shadow on, I’m the Madonna. Should Baby Jesus have ’coon eye shadow? Process questions need answers. Please, come on!
We need some cheap plastic beads to show he feels bad for the poverty-stricken, and that he lives for humility, and being humble. The costume has to be super-cheap, but Jesus rises above mere superficiality. That should work. That’s gotta work.
Why won’t you talk?! You’re my effing writers! Then we close the show with a rousing version of Monster Mash, except Baby Jesus is singing lead. I’ll sing back up vocals. And there will be no Rocky Horror, god, no! No blasphemy on my Variety Hour, please!
Dang, I think I just saved Halloween for my Baby Jesus. Oh, god, yes! Yes! Yes! That feels so good!...
“Welcome to Ashley’s Sunday Service, a celebration of all things godly. Let’s reflect for a moment on all the beautiful things in this life: Bono; the Pope; Baby Jesus; Melinda Gates...
“The holidays are here, and what do you know? My best friends are near. I have Bono, Baby Jesus, Melinda Gates, and the Pope, they showed! They’re all here to join me for a festive holiday dinner of squash and fried curds. Mm, mm, this is how we’ve always celebrated Baby Jesus in these parts.
“Bono, I hear you have your voice back. Okay, almost. Melinda, why don’t you clear up matters, and tell us of Bill’s relationship with Jeffrey Epstein? I’m in agreement, even though I needed an abortion, for most it’s only a frivolity, a product of impulsiveness. Mrs. Gates, something got your tongue? Pope Francis, I understand that under the right circumstances you can levitate yourself five feet above your chair. Okay, not the right circumstances.
“Well, the Kentucky Public Access Network needs to go on to the next Christmas broadcasting celebrant. Bye, bye, America! Say goodbye, everyone! Bono, can you talk? Melinda, you’ll love the canapes, I dug them out back. Arm wrestle, Pope Francis?...”
A note to Ashley Judd, wherever you may be: I heard Harvey Weinstein starting to slander you, Ashley. You’re legally entitled to your good name and reputation. You have done nothing to justify his belittlement of you.
Ashley, if you really want self-administered justice, send a C and D to Weinstein (a cease and desist order). Not sure if that’s entirely binding, because I’m not an attorney. I would just need to pass the Bar Exam first...
Overheard of Ashley Judd, alum basketball, booster legend, at a University of Kentucky b-ball game: “What is a three-pointer again?” If UK is losing at halftime, they pull Ashley out of the stands so she can twerk to Kentucky Woman...
I can make real progress on the eradication of dogs, if I get someone on the inside, like devout dog-lover, Ashley Judd. Ashley has no problem with poop-everywhere pooches, but I will show her the low lives who disseminate disease, at both ends of the leash, and I shall win her over.
Then Ashley and myself need to establish if we want to eradicate just the dogs, or the owners of the dogs as well, the ones who do nothing to clean up the dogsh*t.
In my neighborhood, we have dog-owners who walk around with poop bags, but they’re only carried for show. On my street, dog-owners are only trouble-makers, they’re not any good for anything. They are like the Grim Reaper, slinking around dispensing death and disease. They are vile and repugnant, and they know it.
Ashley would agree with me, that both dog and owner are the problem, so both shall require extermination measures. First, we enlist the UN Health Agency to introduce a dog HIV/AIDS virus into the breeding chain. Ashley works with the UN, I can get her to arrange this — oh, never mind...
Ashley certainly appears to be against porn (see below). Of course, she neglects to mention the triple-X feature she did entitled Ashley’s Lesbian Plantation, the one that gave the Kentucky cutie her start in Hollywood, and earned her worldwide notice, and acclaim.
After Ashley renounced her sexuality in favor of worshiping Baby Jesus, she fought this tapes distribution all the way to the Supreme Court.
(This was around the time she gave her TED Talk that launched her Senate bid from her home state of Kentucky. It was entitled: Dignity and Purity First, Sexuality Last, subtitled: Here’s How to End the Hippie Scourge. Which was in stark contrast with one of her eariliest TED Talks: Giving the Economically Disadvantaged a Leg Up with Porn Production Tax Credits.)
The mostly male court reviewed the tape for days. Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg wrote in the dissenting opinion that a woman’s body can never be violated, and that the Majority decided this case without even seeing any evidence. Justice Brett Kavanaugh wrote in the majority opinion that:
“Ashley Judd had no right to the movie once it was released to the body politic. And furthermore: Ergo ipsum Kleenexum, har, har, etcetera, and nada, with obscurum lada viewem. Case closed. Judd is to pay punitive damages and restitution in excess of time spent by this Supreme Court on her filing.”
Ashley was baffled by the verdict against her. She just knew that there was an Eastern Syndicate at work profiting from her nudity, a Syndicate including both the Supreme Court, and now, Harvey Weinstein...
In Ashley Judd’s endless desire to do good in the world, she now has an idea that only she could conceive. She put together an old-time, negro spiritual that she then presented to her sister, Big League Country singer-songwriter, Wynonna Judd.
It’s called: We all Gotsta Love our Baby Jesus, Come on Now! Wynonna was not entirely enthusiastic at first, although she did decide to take the risk on her sister’s heartfelt, gospel, rap chant, and it is now Track 19 on Wynonna’s latest, Songs from the Heartland.
In deference to her younger sister’s Hollywood career, Ashley sings lead vocals, while Wynonna plays lead guitar heading into a Jimmy Page-inspired, twenty-minute jam. This is just as Ashley sings: “Get with it, home boys, Jesus has it all going on...”
Miss Ashley is very angry at Trump, and who isn’t these days? His latest ploy is to lay an oil pipe cross the Appalachian Trail, the AT. She said that Trump will have to build the pipeline over her dead body.
At last, Ashley has chosen a cause that I would back her one-hundred-percent (no, no, no, not that we both die defending the AT). I would join her in making a human barrier to prevent the Idiot-in-Chief from pushing through more short-term, profit schemes at the expense of the eternal majesty of Creation and nature.
Trump’s only experience with nature is on his golf courses which tap out the water supply, and pollute with nitrogen fertilizer. I have never voted Republican, not ever, but I would take Bush II in a heartbeat over this loser in the White House.
There is so much he is incredibly insensitive to, like most recently, stewardship over the natural environment (he also couldn’t care less about women’s rights, gay and lesbian rights, the climate, etc.) Americans will be spending decades undoing the damage he’s managed to do in four short years...
Ashley Judd may be counted in the ranks of radical feminists. Last year, she crusaded against the world’s oldest profession, prostitution. After Ashley was roundly routed for that, has she now set her sights on pornography? With her latest retweet, she may be starting to sound like the repressive Pope, who states that the sexual experiences or arousal allowed by God above can only be between husband and wife.
Ashley is supporting the prevention of the underage from watching porn, which everyone can agree with, but beneath that message was a veiled second one, that porn for anyone is immoral.
Here’s Ashley’s retweet: "Pornography normalizes the dehumanization and objectification of women. Commit to talk about these images with young boys in your life... " One would think she agrees with what she’s posting, that she feels porn is wrong (are there other interpretations?) But this sentence isn’t true. Sure, some porn might dehumanize, but even questionable videos tend to pay far better than being a streetwalker.
What’s more, there are extensive categories of pornography that if she was actually familiar with the genre, she wouldn’t have much, if any, objection. There’s porn for women, there’s porn for lesbians, there’s porn about lesbians, all of which are mostly produced by women. Ashley sounds like she wants every sex worker to spend the rest of their working days at a Walmart 9 to 5.
There’s also porn of the written word, or erotica. If teens have a need to explore their sexuality, and shouldn’t view strong, graphic, video depictions, why can’t they read about it?
If the porn consumer is well-educated about women, porn that reflected those sensibilities and sensitivities would only be produced. Ashley should try to bridge the chasm between man and woman’s sexuality, not shut down any expression of it.
Ashley tried to ban the world’s oldest profession, with her Harvard Nordic Model pap, let’s see how far she gets in banning porn. She would be best to nip in the bud her latest foray into crusading against another venue for sexual release.
This may seem like over-reacting to a single retweet, but I figure if I register my disappointment here, she may not claim the high road against porn again. Trying to let her know this on her Instagram or Facebook accounts will get the wrong person blocked. Plus, you only get two sentences there, along with relegation to the bottom of the feed, if you’re not all ra-ra, Ashley...
Ashley was explaining to me how her Church operates, and in terms I can easily understand:
I think of Church Mass as a séance. We go to Mass to summon the spirit of the dead Baby Jesus. Just because he has been quote-unquote dead for two-thousand years, does not mean he’s not alive.
His spirit lives in me, and all the other Christians. His spirit doesn’t live in you, because you were never baptized. Remember the story of Passover, where God passes over the good ones, then smites everyone else? Well, he is passing over me, and smiting you. Wait and see.
Because Baby Jesus lives in me, I have answered a higher calling. I don’t want to rub it in, but as a Christian, I am better than you are. I am saved, I will go straight into the clouds, then onto Heaven, when it’s my time, whereas you won’t. You will rot in purgatory indefinitely.
The séances purify my soul, so I enjoy them in that sense. I like the Olde English in the Bible, because I’m putting together a script about the Medieval Church, and how important it was to feudal castle existence. The Church gave every villager purpose in fulfilling the vision of Baby Jesus as well as ensuring the survival of the Church’s hierarchy. I play Maid Marion.
My agent has said that the script won’t sell unless it’s rated for adults, or a NC-17. So I’m working on sexing it up so it’s arousing, yet still gets everyone interested in Baby Jesus. With this approach, the Catholic Church has now expressed interest...
Welcome to Ashley’s Christian Boot Camp, thee place for the Christian, over-fifty, Zumba enthusiast. I’m going to be your host. Ashley Judd, that’s me. How cool is that?... Isn’t this the Nashville Armory something or other?... This is the YWCA? Are you sure?... Whatever. I have you to myself for the rest of the night.
Before we get started, I’ll tell you that I know why you’re here. You lapsed on baby Jesus lovin’ at Church, so you’ve been hitting on the cheesecake. Or you decided you’re too ugly to even bother caring about your appearance. Ashley’s Christian Boot Camp is gonna fix this real quick.
But hey, we have all you porkers out there covered, because this will be the most fun, three hours you’ve had in a long, long, time. Okay, waddlers, hands together. Hands over your heads. Repeat after me. I love you so effing much baby Jesus.
Wait, hold on. Where’s the energy? We’re talking baby Jesus here. Jeez, I’m very sympathetic to you fatty, mounds of round, but you porkers have got to get it under control. I’m spiritual so I answer to a higher calling than you walruses. I know all that you don’t.
Okay, follow me. Put your ankle behind your neck. Okay, now I know that you’re really not trying. Now put your knee behind your back. Oh, my god, no! Paramedics!... Okay we’ll skip advanced topics because you’re just not ready. I’m ready, but I forgot to stretch is all.
How about more baby Jesus chitchat. Let’s talk about much we love our Biblical Superman. How much he does everyday to improve your life. Anyone? You’re a bunch of deadwood. Okay, I’ll begin. Baby Jesus makes me more empathetic. Okay on your feet. Sing and clap with me: Baby Jesus, honey bunch, I love you so effing much. Sing it, you piggy, effing losers...
Baby Jesus has been asleep at the wheel. How else would you explain Ashley Judd’s recent bout with siege migraines? Ashley couldn’t have been praying hard enough to her pagan deity. Ashley, you need to rattle those pots and pans, and get baby Jesus’ attention. Ms. Judd, you would know as much as anyone why your baby Jesus is letting these mass shootings happen? Don’t the spiritually-obsessed get the inside scoop?
Isn’t Jesus only a lounge-about, phantom, cult figure who only takes credit for the good, but is never responsible in preventing ever-present evil?
Ashley, at last check, you were a regular Churchgoer who believed wholeheartedly in Baby Jesus. Then why does your omnipotent baby Jesus sit back on his heels, and watch all manner of suffering happen? What’s more, why do you kneel before this lie of infinite benevolence, one that has always let evil reign supreme?...
The Other Letter has very bad news to report. Ashley has been hospitalized for siege migraines. My bet is that it is because of the Weinstein, pig trial next month...
Her neurologists from Vanderbilt University Hospital know that I am her Pantheon biographer, and that I am also a practicing brain surgeon. They also know of my pioneering research in finding the cells that misfire in the compromised gray matter substrate.
By carefully noting what Ashley posts after a news cycle begins, I have made a full map of her cerebral cortex. Her surgical team felt that now was the time to both take care of her migraines, and to remove the thoughts that cause them.
In other words, it was time for her partial, elective lobotomy. Ashley’s family agreed that there is much she is too stubborn to understand, and it would be best for all concerned if it was lasered away permanently via focused light beam. The surgeons at Vanderbilt needed a list of both her offensive thought centers, and the approximate, two-dimensional coordinates where those brain cells were located. I gave them this crucial road map:
Baby Jesus: 3092590kjfl and 5-06-06adkl. The Methodist Church: 909409340 and iorweowj. Bono: epotwtjtop433 and 23904jff. Melinda Gates: 09383901039 and a-dlfjioeioj.
Then I gave the surgical team the coordinate legend explaining my map of Ashley’s brain. They wrote me back that my understanding of neuroscience was far too advanced for them, and they would much rather have me call out directions inside Ashley’s brain during the lobotomy, as they traversed it via laser pen and a video Skype connection. This is a transcript of this vital surgery to straighten out Ashley’s thinking and cerebrum:
“...Up, up, up, left, down. Okay, singe, singe. No, you singed the wrong cells. Okay, let’s try this again. Okay, down, left, down. Now, singe. You keep missing what I’m telling you to singe...”
Ashley did survive the elective lobotomy, but the results were a bit of a surprise. Now, when someone says any of these words: “Bono, Baby Jesus, the Methodist Church, or Melinda Gates”; Ashley blurts out: “No, I am very sorry...”
Welcome to Poli-Sci 575: Democracy for the Creme de la Creme. I will be your instructor. I am. Eh hem. I’m Ashley Judd? Yes, you lucked out, I am Ashley Judd. First off, we can be comfortable here. I’m Harvard. You’re Harvard. And we speak a common language. We all speak Harvard. This will be a full year, graduate-level course and I’m betting this will be the one that really sticks out in your memory from your stay at glorious Harvard University.
Let us begin, shall we? When the hoi polloi interferes with your political and spiritual messages on social media, what should those charged with disciplining these inferiors do? What’s to be done about your misbehaving, follower children?
In this wonderful world of democracy there is but one option: you shut them down. They have nothing to say. They are without education, they lack breeding. You are Harvard, you know all. Remove them from your feed and see if you can get your friends to do the same. Banish them from toy land. Capeesh?
This is not your best option, this is your only option. It’s honored by the courts and by the good, ultra-successful people of this world. When anyone compromises my positions, who cares if I create enemies? I must win. I am Harvard. We are Harvard. We are winners. They are only losers. We have the followers. We are the great ones. We are immaculate. We are their Gods. We call all the shots.
I’ll give you a for instance. Crack open your composition notebooks for this. There was a non entity, a hoi polloi, who thought he could raise an opposing viewpoint on my home turf, on my effing Facebook page. My effing Facebook page, I’m talking.
We all know we can end the world’s oldest profession if we just pray hard enough. My Church knows freedom of choice and homosexuality is against the teachings of the greatest of the greats, baby Jesus. We all love baby Jesus, of course we do. Goes without saying. Class is not dismissed yet. Where are you going? [Ashley starts pacing nervously behind the podium as her class files out the door.]
Bono, wait, Bono, I got Bono. I’m hip. Aren’t my good friends even hipper? Aren’t they the billionaires that we all want to be? Shouldn’t these incredibly great people be allowed to do as they please with their taxes? We are mortals, but they, they are? They are gods, I know a god. I know Bono the God.
Okay, who doesn’t love the pope? If the clergy needs children as a quid pro quo for oh-so-valued sermons, why should we step in the way? Why, when they lead our sermons, why can’t they fondle our children? Why?! They are important men of God, aren’t they!
These are just a few of the questions we’ll be answering. Get back in your seats. Hey! HEY!!! I’m Harvard, damn you! I’m praying for your souls, you effing losers!...
There’s a new ad on TV in which Ashley Judd promotes a cruise she’s guest hosting. She is aboard a vacation ship near an exotic island locale, in summery clothing, and with a strong breeze. Ashley shouts above the sound the wind is making. Here’s the transcribed script:
Hi, I’m Ashley Judd, and I am going to tell you about a unique vacation opportunity, the Ashley Judd Lesbos Cruise to Heaven. Along with Mediterranean Island Hoppers, I will be joining two hundred, lucky Ashley fans on a cruise to the Greek isle of Lesbos.
Why Lesbos? Let me tell you, every moment I’ve spent here on this island paradise has been unforgettable. Think gossiping with your girlfriends all day, think gourmet meals, think the sunny Mediterranean. Okay, now you’re thinking that there must be a catch.
Well, there is a slight one, the voyageurs can only be younger and older women. The reason is simple, women’s biological clocks are different, and women really only feel comfortable with women.
What’s more, we’re aiming to network every woman on this ship. We’re so sorry, men, you must stay ashore and wave fond farewell to your wives and girlfriends. Women, on this cruise, we get to say goodbye to the patriarchy, however briefly. Even the crew is one-hundred-percent female — tan and buff if I may add.
This cruise into the deep blue Mediterranean lasts fourteen days and fourteen nights, that’s two, full weeks of paradise, which is certainly sufficient duration to hook up as well as make business connections.
I will be onboard for the entire cruise, so ask me those questions you’ve been dying to know the answer to about my life and my career. For a personally selected few, there will be sensitivity sessions in my cabin with my spiritualist, Helga.
Please keep in mind that cabin space is limited to two-hundred, very lucky girls, so we will be winnowing down the applicants until we have our finalist pool.
Every application must have a recent photograph, or several photographs. We expect photos to be in revealing beach attire, where you are beside your tan and buff squad. Plus, we need your AGI, your adjusted gross income for 2019.
The reason we need photos is we’ve found that physical appearance is the main determinant in how much the cruise is enjoyed. Well, that and being well-heeled. A happy cruise then, means good-looking, wealthy people at every turn. That’s all we’re saying.
I forgot to mention the most important part, because we are good Christians, besides luxuriating under the sun, we will be reading our Bibles to glean important factoids on female survival the Biblical way, with sermons, penitence, and confessionals. I am certified as a pastor, so I will be hearing your confessions shipboard, and offering punishment as needed.
Anyhow, I will personally sort through the applications to the Ashley Judd Lesbos Cruise to Heaven, so go to my web site and join us in Lesbos heaven...
Ashley’s pastor down at Saint Rick’s said before he could ever officiate our vows, Ashley and I must enter couples therapy. So Ashley brought me down to the Azkratch Outreach Clinic. On day one, we were given homework to do concerning what we hated most in one another. Ashley had this to say:
- He’s so bright, that this makes me nervous.
- He doesn’t love dogs.
- He doesn’t love Baby Jesus. Mom says this is non-negotiable, a deal-breaker, and that I’ll have to convert him to Christianity by our wedding day (there’s a Hallmark Family Classic, proselytizing-wedding, count down).
- He doesn’t love the Southern United States. Grits mean nothing to him. It’s sad.
- He doesn’t love Quentin Tarantino movies.
I replied with what I don’t like about her:
- Ashley loves dogs.
- She’s a member of a cult known as Christianity, one that’s homophobic and misogynistic, and whose sister denomination, Catholicism, harbors pedophiles.
- She does not, repeat, does not, like bagels, lox, and cream cheese. What’s more, she knows nothing of adding capers, tomatoes, and Vidalia onions to the spread.
- She hunts raccoons, and opossum, and anything else moving, out in her back forty.
- Ashley thinks Melania Gates is aces. Microsoft’s number two (just like the First Lady in rank) will not give a dime to pregnancy termination services.
- She likes Bono, tax fraud Bono.
I explain that I had six complaints while she had just five about me, this is because she needs more work than I do. We’re both waiting with bated breath on how these are graded. I’m pretty sure I won, hands down...
Ashley Judd has joined online dating, specifically an outfit called Christian Minglers. Here is her profile:
I’m a Christian mingler! That’s right, I’m one of you guys now. I’m Ashley Judd, that Ashley Judd, and I’m looking for Christian love. Don’t be intimidated by my stature in society because us Christians aren’t much different from one another.
Now, what do I like to do? I’m an avid backpacker for baby Jesus. As part of the Christian Trailblazer Program, I just completed hiking the Appalachian Trail in record time.
But what I really want to do is to hike the Baby Jesus Forty Days And Nights Desert Trail. Anyone hook up with Salaam Saharan Tours? Their brochure looked so mint.
I wanna keep it authentic, and subsist on sand grubs the entire way, just like Baby Jesus did. Who here knows of good sand grub recipes? We know that butter can’t be kept in the backpack. Then is it a Coleman Stove and EVOO for grubs? I’m thinking of EVOO in packets, and grubs cooked five minutes on each side. Do we know if this is how Baby Jesus cooked his sand grubs? Let me tell you, this will be the camping trip of a lifetime!
I like all kinds of music, but the only one I listen to regularly is Bono and the boys from U2. I have had to buy multiple copies of the CD version of Joshua Tree because I wore away the vinyl with the CD player. I am one of the biggest, if not thee biggest U2-head on this planet. Bono pays less in taxes than his dirt poor, Irish countrymen. I love this guy. He’s so bright. I know Bono personally, and he can do no wrong. Know me, and you may meet Bono, so your every dream will come true.
Yet I digress. About my passion for baby Jesus, I’ll say it, I was raped three times and divorced. Baby Jesus was watching over me, protecting me, the entire time. No, wait, he got me through the rapes and the divorce. Wait, Christians don’t divorce. Let me take that back, I was widowed after Mario missed a turn at Indy. That’s right, I’m a widow. (My backspace key no longer works.)
Anyhow I will reply to all serious inquiries. Faith be to baby Jesus. Amen. Ew ew. To give you an inkling of my enlightenment level as a Christian, I am Harvard. I have a Harvard sheepskin which if I know you better, I will gladly proffer discreetly...
Announcer: “The theme so far has been wealth maximization and class purity. Yes, we’re at the Republican National Convention of 2020 as Ashley Judd steps up to the podium. This is set to be a key moment in Republican political history.”
“Hello, fellow Americans. When I was growing up in Saint Rick’s Church of Azkratch, Kentucky, the most important thing for us Azkratchers was following the law of baby Jesus, and doing service in his name. My Methodist Church, my house of worship, has had but two goals: Stop the homos and kill the baby killers. Baby Jesus’ vision of this pure world founded on ancient scripture has still not come true, but it very well might with this man, Donald Trump.
[Ashley really stirs up the crowd, who get on their feet and start screaming.] “For a second term for the president of these here United States I endorse — are you ready for it? — Donald J. Trump!!! My main man, you are my god!!! [Ashley claps wildly while jumping up and down, as Trump gets up the steps.]
“You’re quite the girl, Ashley. I accept your nomination for the Republican Party and my second term. Geez, you’re much older than I remember you.”
“I aged, Mister President. I’m sorry.”
“You sure did age, but anyhow, thanks for signing on to the GOP. We’re going to make America great again. Just give me four more years. We got this one in the bag. I have an 8AM tee time tomorrow in Mar-a-Lago, gotta catch a flight, but let me just say this: Constitutional reform is up next, that and trickle up economics. Stay with me, on the Right side, and you’ll never go wrong.
[Trump steps off the stage to wild applause. His voice is muffled but still audible.] I’ll just leave by picking out some super-hot babes from the audience. Hey, you! Yeah, you! Ever make it with a billionaire? How about a billionaire U.S. President?” [Ashley is dazed...]
As many of us know by now, Ashley Judd has a profound passion for Baby Jesus. Her ardor for him is so strong, that each and every year, she holds her town’s nativity scene pageant on her horse farm.
The production begins in July as she shops for nativity scene dwarves at Nashville Party Favors, ones who’ll fit in and around the manger display. Ashley reviews the casting sheets, noting if there are any new dwarves she might want to include, or if she just wants to stick with the old dwarves from previous pageants.
Ashley, the only trained thespian in her hamlet of Azkratch, Kentucky, provides the narration of God, which she has deemed as being the most fitting of her talents. The pageant lasts three hours, with the benediction and homily read by Pastor Rick, from Saint Rick’s Church and Funeral Parlor.
The manger is in the barn of Ashley’s horse farm, and all Azkratchers piggyback on each other, eagerly trying to catch a glimpse of the glory of Baby Jesus.
To keep the whole affair buoyant and upbeat, after the pageant there is a dwarf-tossing contest, one which Ashley actually won one Christmas. She bested five other women in her bantamweight class.
Ashley and her townsfolk also hold a prayer vigil to pull their Kentucky out of 45th of 50th in the national standings for wealth. Ashley reminds her people to vote, because even a vote for Trump’s Bitch McConnell is a step in the right direction. Ashley knows that Baby Jesus decides Kentucky’s fate, and he gave us Bitch, so Bitch it must be...
Ashley should be giving TED talks on how she has such a big smile. She has the biggest smile in Hollywood, bar none. I wish I had rights to these photos, wait, let me see if I have one...
Summer means just one thing in the Hill Country where avid raccoon hunter, Ashley Judd, calls home, and that’s open season on raccoons and opossum.
Ashley explains: “The law in Kentucky is very simple, and just as lenient. Your kill, its weight and height, must be listed on an email to the Kentucky Game Warden Department in Louisville. This vital info is forwarded to the Trump Administration where it is carefully tabulated for authenticity.”
Ashley comments further: “The White House is so pro-guns that as long as you don’t kill a person, you’re good to kill stuff again. Even if you do kill a person, if you’re well-off, it is considered handgun fair use.
“No need to sweat a murder, you’ll be doing work-release like Trump’s good friend, Jeff Epstein, the well-connected pedophile did. Trump’s Bitch McConnell, and his impoverished Kentucky, is looking to be the next sportsmen’s paradise, so if you kill anything or anyone here in Kentucky, we all go home happy...”
Heads up for Ashley Judd: Her beliefs are entirely different from those of her Methodist Church, and she’s been a lifelong member of this church. Methodists believe that homosexuality conflicts with the teachings of Baby Jesus.
Meanwhile, Ashley is set to portray bigot, homophobe, Anita Bryant. Either Ms. Judd disavows herself of her Methodist Church, and absolves herself of any association with it, or expect Judd to play Bryant as a hero, and not a villain...
Good news, folks! (Although Kentuckians will shed a tear.) Ashley resigned as Float Committee Chair of the, take a breath, the Methodists in Midlands’ Blessings be to Baby Jesus-Independence Day Parade. She was set to again lead her pantomime troupe as they reenacted the glory of Baby Jesus, but had a change of heart this year.
Her history pantomiming the Nativity goes back fifteen years ago. Ashley and elder men wanted a fresh new way to present the Nativity every Fourth of July. So Ashley suggested pantomime, and that’s the way it’s been since then, with Ashley portraying the Virgin Mary in mime form to the delight of the Midlanders.
All of us tea-leaf-readers out there are now wondering if her parade resignation means she’s also stepping down from Methodist day-to-day leadership. The pride and joy of these homophobic, misogynistic, hate group leaders may have just lost their best, most visible, spokeswoman. We can only wait with bated breath to see if Ashley has finally jilted who was once her greatest passion in life — Baby Jesus.
Readers, I know the Youtubes are rare, but if you do have any of Ashley as the Virgin Mary in pantomime, I will pay top dollar...
Ashley Judd has heard word of lesbian groups forming, ones working against her, and everyone else’s, Baby Jesus. Judd will be defusing this threat — again — but she needs your help.
If you notice any suspicious lesbians in your community, contact your house of worship, meaning your Christian church. Tell ’em, Ashley sent you, then assemble a lynch mob. Arrive at the neighborhood lesbo’s doorstep with torches, pitchforks, shotguns, and burning crosses. Quoting Judd:
“Lesbos must be stopped, before they fan out across this great land, and do even more damage. Lesbos are a menace to Baby Jesus, which means they are a menace to every good Christian. I’m Harvard, so I know best.
“I’ll be playing Anita Bryant in her biopic. She felt the same about lesbos that me and my wonderful Methodist Church do, that they must be stopped. I embrace all that Anita, my heroine, stood for.
“I’m doing the best that I can to contain this threat, America, but you must as well. At Team America, we are working night and day to exterminate the pink threat, the ones poised to take down the land of which we sing.
“There won’t be any girl-girl action under my watch. That’s done. Any one engaging in these un-American activities will be hung from the tallest oak. Let Christianity reign supreme!...”
Following Ashley’s initial success as a model, she convinced her principal at Kentucky’s Midland High School to make Methodist, Christian Fundamentals a required course, or else lose support of their only famous, future alumna.
She demanded the following were covered: chastity, and Jesus’ commandment against premarital sex; the sin of the homo; and the women’s place as domestic servant, or if she was butch, possibly a career.
After Ashley left for Hollywood, and the Ashley, Baby Jesus, Academic Track was installed, she wrote an essay for her high school newspaper back in Kentucky, the Midlands Busy Bee (or Midlands Busy Body as it was known when Ashley was featured). In it, she explained her lifelong faith, and her profound passion for Baby Jesus:
“Young people need the love of Baby Jesus in their life more than anything else. If you want to join the cool people in Hollywood, like me, where I live now, you need to follow the Gospels of Baby Jesus.
“There are no exceptions, everyone must do what Baby Jesus wants them to do. Everyone must follow Baby Jesus’ plan. I’m keeping it real in Tinsel Town, you keep it real back in Kentucky. Way to be, kids. I’ll see you in Hollywood. Let’s put on a show! Toodles!...”
After Ashley’s early success modeling in Italy, she carried a lot of clout in her high school. So she spoke to her guidance counselor about updating the cheerleading routines to reflect Christian sensibilities. These are just a few cheers that Ashley eventually got the cheerleading coach to sign on to:
Baby Jesus he’s my man, if he won’t do it, Apostle Peter can. Apostle Peter, he’s my man, if he can’t get me into heaven, no one can.
Give me a: B-a-b-y J-e-s-u-s. What does that spell? Baby Jesus! Baby Jesus! Baby Jesus!!!! BABY JESUS, WE LOVE YOU SO EFFING MUCH!!!! DANG!!!!
Come on everybody. Get up out of your seat. The Baby Jesus team is here to say we can’t be beat. Oh no, we can’t be beat! Baby Jesus! Baby Jesus! Rah, rah, rah! Kick major butt for Baby Jesus!
To this day, Kentucky Midlands High School still uses Ashley’s cheers. But because this wasn’t a parochial league, Midlands was (and is) the laughing stock in all of Kentucky, even though Ashley truly felt that she was fulfilling her mission as a messenger of baby Jesus, a role she kept playing her entire life.
More than anything else, it has been her main goal in life to share her love of baby Jesus with anyone she knew, or even with complete strangers (or with opposing high school football teams)...
Nicole “Ginger Tabby” Kidman
The high priestess of passion, from a still promoting Eyes Wide Shut. Nikky plays Alice Harford, a woman bored to tears by an increasingly loveless marriage.
Besides Nicole not joining Tom on the dark side with his divisive Scientology, there’s a second reason why they divorced. Nicole is five-foot-eleven-inches and Tom is five-foot-three-inches tall (with heels). Paparazzi would burst out laughing anytime they stepped out onto the red carpet.
Scientology leadership was furious that prospective, dues-paying recruits would see Cruise’s wife with much more stature than Tom did. Having Tom wear stilts was ineffective as he feared heights (Scientology Svengali, L. Ron Hubbard, didn’t figure out how to defuse this particular fear).
A few years of the height taunting, the humiliation, and the bad press, proved to be more than the Kidmans could handle, so they had to call it quits, and file for a divorce...
Most are well aware of perhaps the most bitter rivalry in all of Hollywood, including the one between Bette Davis and Joan Crawford. This is, of course, the endless tit-for-tat between Nicole Kidman and Naomi Watts. Both have longstanding restraining orders against one another. If you even say the word, “Naomi,” to Nikky she will practically hit the ceiling in fright, the hatred is this intense.
Ages ago, the two Aussies were the best of friends. In fact, they went to the same theatrically-oriented, North Sydney Girls High School, where a gentle rivalry turned into the most heated of feuds. It got so bad once, that Nicole and Naomi were pulled out of their classes for a day’s worth of detention, because of unnecessary hair-pulling, spitting, and teacher-unapproved cat fighting (things are a bit different in the land down-under).
There has been nothing but bad vibes between them since, going as far back as Mulholland Drive, when Nikky auditioned for innocent, Hollywood newcomer, Betty, but Naomi walked off with the role.
There was a scene that Naomi performed for director, David Lynch, a scene that Nikky felt was just too sexual. Nicole is a firm believer in chastity just like her savior, Baby Jesus, demands of her. Nikky told Lynch that instead of the self-pleasuring scene, the Betty character should play tennis against a cement wall, that this achieved the same effect, and hid all uncomfortable, shameful, eroticism.
Lynch could not be convinced, and the role went to Naomi. Once this casting die was cast, they never spoke a word to each other again...
The Nikky faithful are mounting a campaign to have her mane return to ginger, instead of blonde. The problem is that the characters are written as blondes, or dirty blondes, so Nicole must dye her hair yellow over and over.
Many of us believe this is just plain wrong, so we are asking Ms. Kidman and her agent to negotiate a ginger contract rider to allow her to grow in her natural, flaming, red-hot, hair color.
Why play yet another, air head blond, when she can play a fiery, agile and dynamic, think-for-herself, redhead? Many more will be missing her next blockbuster in protest, and some will be carrying picket signs to the tune of: “Bring Back our Ginger Babe!...” Please join us, and make a difference!
Nikky’s husband had his birthday. Of course, he doesn’t deserve her, I can only think of one or two who do (actually, one). Anyhow, I don’t know if this is just my wishful thinking, but her birthday wish for him was really lukewarm, kinda cold, really.
Nicole gave him roses. Since when do guys want roses as a gift? Does he have unusual interests between the sheets? Let’s not go there.
Anyhow, Nikky wrote: “Happy Birthday Keith Lionel.. you are so loved.” Okay, well, loved by whom? She didn’t write: “I love you so much,” or, “We [the Kidman nuclear family unit] love you so much.” She must mean his fans whose company he enjoys on the road.
If I didn’t believe what the entertainment press was saying about them being the most perfect couple on earth, I’d have to say that that sign up ahead for them, it reads “Welcome to Splitsville in America...”
The Other Letter is all about helping put an end to sub-optimality, and make out-sized gains in process improvement. And in the Western Hemisphere, we’ve reached 87% optimality, Europe has 71%, Southeast Asia hits 57% benchmarks. Almost everywhere, there have also been similarly, huge process improvements.
Yet the Land of Oz doesn’t keep any stats on their levels of sub-optimality, or process improvement.
We caught up with Nikky Kidman for a possible explanation as to why the sub-optimality, and process improvement down under is in such disarray. We’ll let Nikky explain:
“I’m out in the Bush all day, trying to make sure the Koala is good. The kangaroo, too, I spend long days in the red, steaming Bush with the ’roo. At least they have it good down under.
“Conquering sub-optimality is just a dream for us in Oz. I try for process improvement, and girls like me have shown more success than most of the other fillies here. We try not to let this one failing bother us too much. We fell on our tushes with the global call for optimality, God help us.
“I’ll just say this, when I’m busting my hump out in the Bush, I don’t have time for gentle, nuanced process improvement. It’s on the tip of my tongue to finally get around process improvement. I sure wish I did have the time though, massaging a process to fruition.
“I think about process improvement all day. In the Bush that’s all we think about. Improving our process.
“My husband doesn’t care about joining me in process improvement, because it’s not Christian, and he is. There are times when I could really use a process improvement tuneup, but he’s in the garage with the boys in the band doing his version of process improvement. But I wouldn’t call that process improvement.
“When my husband and I aren’t process improving, I look for processes to improve somewhere else, and all my girlfriends do love process improvement.
“Now, you’re distracting me. If you’ll excuse me, I gotta go back to process improving, and tending to, my Bush...”
Nikky, you aren’t well known as a writer, are you? Your most recent Instagram post, hmm, was it written hastily?
“Sunset in Firenze— ... with my love. - KU”
Hmm, I’m wondering: a hyphen, a “-”, preceding "KU," not a comma? The New York Times generally avoids a long dash followed by an ellipsis (...)? Don’t ditch that day job just yet, Nikky.
Then outside of grammar, you refer to your husband by his initials? This looks like he’s paying tribute to himself. Is he that full of himself?. You may have a hidden, if unorthodox talent, Nikky— ...
You have time for a grammar lesson, Nikky? First person is I and we; second person is you; and third person is he, she, it, and they.
What the hell, Nicole, we go way back, so I’ll rub it in. I was shifting in and out of person writing this — between second person, you, and third person, she. I could have written it in third person, then announced a shift to second person by addressing you with your name half-way through.
I could have gotten away with that, but I settled on making it second person all the way through, which is generally a more clear, more understandable, approach. Although second person implies that we’re on a first-name basis, and for all anyone might know, maybe we are...
Except to those ignoring the obvious, Keith Urban is hitting on Taylor Swift, again. This time by singing a cover of her latest, greatest, hit, Lover.
This is in very poor form on three counts: He’s married so he wants Taylor to join him in an adulterous relationship; and meanwhile, his act centers around him being a crooning, devout Christian. What’s more, he’s singing the cover of a song written by and for a woman.
Taylor responded by saying that his cover was flawless. Reading between the lines, Taylor could very well be saying that it was an exact copy of her original, and that it lacked any real interpretation.
Besides, is Taylor interested in being a stepmother to his two kids with Nicole? Until Taylor says something along the lines of: “Let’s get it on, Christ-loving, country crooner,” I doubt she’s interested. What we have here has all the hallmarks of a desperate, Taylor, Hail Mary...
Is Keith Urban, aka Mr. Nicole Kidman, hitting on Taylor Swift? He’s using words like “gorgeous” and “exquisite” to describe her, well, her music is it? Was this just professional appreciation, or was something else at play?
Taylor and Keith both live in Nashville, is Urban making a move on America’s sweetheart? Is he trading up from Nikky, last year’s model, an Oscar-winner, who by every account is one of the most beautiful women on Earth.
Is he a swinger with an open marriage, or is what we have here the unthinkable, the absolute horror, the unfathomable stunner, Nicole and him are going in different directions, and they’re putting up a unified front for their kids.
Taylor was polite as she always is, but she also sounded very surprised that Mr. Kidman would flatter her to such a degree...
Nicole is always dealing with cataclysmic issues. Now, it’s from Mr. Nicole Kidman, her hard-core, Christian fanatic of a husband — hear me out — the one who just referred to her on a published song as “a maniac in the bed.” Nikky replied to an interview question about the “maniac” reference, saying: “it is embarrassing.”
(The song of Urban’s in question is entitled: Clenching the Spray, a homage to male, bathroom cleanliness.)
Am I completely misreading their interchanges? Their marriage is, in fact, strong enough to survive these infidelities? Or maybe, Nicole is openly affectionate with those she’s worked with, and their marriage is rock solid, despite of what you see in the press from time to time.
Nicole Kidman has a family priest. Now, if you are worth over a hundred million dollars, is this family priest the priest from down the road at the congregation? Or is this the private priest that works for you, and also works for maybe, fellow Tennesseans, Reese Witherspoon, Ashley Judd, or Faith Hill? I have my bets on the latter, and he may not even work for Reese, Ashley, and Faith, he is devoted to two people: Baby Jesus and Nicole Kidman.
This guy of the cloth offered Nicole a blessed tidbit of Holy marital practice: ‘Kiss your husband, Keith, before you go to bed.’ Geez, Nikky, if there’s an opening, I would love to take his job, because I have plenty more endearing words of advice.
Can you imagine the mob scenes every Sunday if the Kidmans showed up at nearby Saint Rick’s? No, they are home preached. Isn’t this sad though? The Kidmans cannot even go to the house of worship of their choosing.
They cannot mix and mingle with their fellow, Christian parishioners. They cannot plot and scheme on how to stop the Jewish menace dead in its tracks. They cannot devise ways to end women’s reproductive services, and launch bold homophobic and misogynistic initiatives. Nicole cannot rally support for this brand of “social justice.”
Ashley Judd is so far from the beaten track that she can do all of this out in the open, and no one bothers her. Her house of worship is at the end of a twenty-mile dirt road, and then inside a cave with fellow hillbillies.
Nicole and Ashley are known to live by the twisted word of their Lord and Master, Baby Jesus, but to avoid paparazzi, Nicole must do it underground, in an prayer bunker dug beneath her pool.
I could run my patented Baby Jesus deprogramming sessions to get both of them off of the Baby Jesus junk, but my services have never been requested, and I don’t expect they ever will be. Why would they deny salvation? Because Baby Jesus addiction is like heroin addiction, if you hook them young, they will most likely be hooked for life...
Fellow Aussie, Naomi Watts, has lived her entire life in Nicole’s shadow. They both graduated Magna Cum Laude in the Aussie Performing Arts High School in downtown Sydney (beside the kangaroo exhibit). Will there be subterfuge one day — a Naomi-engineered, Nicole take down? Most say this is more than likely.
We’ll just have to wait and see, but Other Letter has studied the footage and we believe that this take down is much more than imminent, it’s the next Vegas sure thing. Incoming, Nicole! Duck and cover!...
Like the Starship Enterprise traveling to strange new worlds, I have a strict policy of non-intervention. So I will not comment on Nicole and her partner. But I will say this, they are depicted in the mass media as being the biggest love birds of all time. Yet, somehow, I’m not so sure.
To avoid yet more acrimony directed at the Other Letter family of blogs, I will just hope that they may live in matrimonial heaven for the rest of their days treading this Earth. And if they can’t, then Nicole, please look me up, I’m listed (and not as a sex offender).
This is not being crass, a cad, or being opportunistic, this is, well, maybe it is all that, I just feel you deserve the best, like you would get with me — a professional blogger...
“Dreamy” Jennifer Connelly
(Still of Jennifer Connelly in Mulholland Falls
© 1996 Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios Inc.
All Rights Reserved.)
I’m hardly one to trash the husband of any of these gorgeous, Hollywood women, but Jenny C. married down. Just saying, no offense. These husbands all understand, because they’re jealous of me, and my primacy as a blogger.
They all know that I can beat them inside on the paint, then dish outside for the tray, or block shots from downtown. I’m just too much competition for them, so they’ve learned to respect me for this.
Ashley Judd knows this is the god’s honest truth, I’ve played pickup games with her in Nashville, games where she doesn’t even show up, in more ways than one...
For her supporting role as Alicia Nash in Ron Howard’s A Beautiful Mind, Jennifer Connelly received an Academy Award, a Golden Globe Award and a BAFTA Award. Besides her Oscar-winning performance, she’s known for He’s just not that into You, she was the best part of Rocketeer — lighting up the screen, and stealing every scene, she was that good in this — and in 2014, she co-starred with Russell Crowe again in the Biblical saga Noah.
The problem with Rocketeer though, was that it had all this stuff about rockets, when it should have just been about Jenny C smiling, and making conversation with everyone. They hardly know how to create fine, engrossing cinema anymore.
Ms. Connelly — along with her trademark, playful, coy, knowing, or devilish half-smile, as well as her brunette hair and green eyes, her buxom figure, and her deep, sultry voice — has appeared in 41 films. In 2005, Amnesty International named Ms. Connelly an Ambassador for Human Rights Education. She has been a Revlon cosmetics cover model, and in addition, was a child model. Periodicals such as Time, Vanity Fair, Esquire, as well as the Los Angeles Times have all included her on their lists of the world’s most beautiful women.
In Career Opportunities, Jennifer portrays an unusually intuitive, young woman, who is beset with issues at home, and doesn’t quite know what to do with her life, until she is trapped overnight with a janitor at a department store. One can easily see her overwhelming sex appeal and femininity in yet another, understated, never-recognized, and grossly under-rated performance. It is just a treat to watch her in this film, and this is so early in her career.
I would have to think she did all her own roller-skating in this clip, partly because it would have to be so difficult to find that voluptuous of a body double for Jennifer, and partly because in the shots where it is obviously her doing the skating, she is doing it very well.
Ms. Connelly studied English at Yale University, transferring to Stanford, and completing her degree in Drama there. Not many know this, but growing up in the Catskills of Upstate New York, Jennifer was nick-named “The Mountain Cat.”
Heather “The Heat” Graham
(Still from NBC’s True Crime; Menendez Brothers, 2017 — Heather has never done modeling, she’s never been a super-model. Can anyone see why? Nope, no one can see why she has never been a super-model.)
Is there any woman more feared in Hollywood, than Heather Graham? I mean, just look at her. Talk about intimidating great looks. Harvey Weinstein was scared of her, and not a girl has ever stood in that pig’s way before. She must have to reject more men in a single day, than most women do in their entire lives. Her modus operandi becomes: take no prisoners.
When Heather is forced to unleash Heather-apolcalypse, there is nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide. She is an esteemed actress and a businesswoman, and if you cannot produce credentials that you are worthy of her time, move it along. Ms. Graham is most likely a real sweetheart, but she never returns my calls, so I can’t get a good fix on the real Heather...
Heather and me were heading out for another road trip, because I wanted to get to know the Cheeseheads for which her region is so well known. See, Heather is from Wisconsin, the Dairy State, and they eat more cheese than anyone else in America (only the Swiss eat more cheese on earth). To stock up on supplies, we stopped at Kwik Trip.
What most surprised me about this convenience store, is that Kwik Trip sells milk by the bag, honest, they do. Not only that, the Kwik Trip chain has their own dairy, they have their own dairy cows. On Long Island, I couldn’t verify at press time, but I’m almost certain that our convenience stores, 7-11, and even Dairy Barn, do not have their own cows.
Kwik Trip will also cook to order off of a small menu. Now, I don’t have to check that one out. There isn’t a single convenience store in the entire Northeastern United States that will cook to order anything. You need to go home, and fire up your George Foreman Grill, or turn up your hot plate...
As many may know, Heather’s big break was from her role as Brandi aka Roller Girl in Boogie Nights. Heather has said that since then she no longer had to audition for parts, she would just be offered them, and for big movies.
According to IMDBPro, Gwynnie Paltrow was offered the role for Roller Girl, but turned it down. That would have been the all-time miscast...
Heather Graham is well-known in keeping her private life private, and away from prying eyes. But get this, she will be releasing a tell-all autobiography this Fall. The finished manuscript is one page long, and includes the time she skinned her knee in gym class. At least her treatment was somewhat forthcoming about her past. A ghostwriter hopes to flesh it out into four-hundred-pages.
I, for one, am glad she’s coming clean on dishing about private details about her life. I have paid her way with movie tickets — we all have — and it’s time for pay back. I am not an unreasonable man, so I know she needs to make more of an effort being explicit about her past, including all those physical relationships with girls.
Heather, if you’re out there, don’t tell me this is private, because you traded your privacy for fame. Check the fine print on that Faustian bargain you signed thirty years ago. You surrendered all rights to your sexy past for others enjoyment...
If you follow Heather Graham’s Instagram, and Ashley Judd or Gwyneth Paltrow’s ones as well, you’ll notice that on Ashley and Gwynnie’s pages the trolls are there, out in full force, and out for blood. Yet Heather’s social media feed is fairly civilized.
The reason is that Heather doesn’t stir up much controversy. She mostly talks about rice cakes and sunscreen, whereas Ashley has extolled her love of tax-cheat Bono, and Gwynnie pontificates over pelvic eggs as a panacea for the blues, and whose discussion even embarasses her mom, Blythe.
It is always clear where Ashley and Gwynnie are on the New Age or political spectrum, which makes them the targets of trolls. Yet we only know of Heather’s discretion, and her love of those slimming rice cakes.
To make them all feel free to express their opinions without retaliation, the real solution is to promote their own web sites which they have already built. Ashley already has AshleyJudd.com, and Gwyneth has GwynethPaltrow.com. They devote far more time to the social media platforms than their eponymous web sites, even though the former is where they get all the abuse.
Or they could be as tough as nails, and capable of withstanding any abuse thrown their way. Yet, if you have home field advantage on your own web site, with a much more devoted readership, and without casual or hurtful readers, the discourse will remain that much more civil. Surprisingly, however, Ashley and Gwynnie currently do not have their own forums.
What’s more, a private web site would have a much tighter rein on membership with a significantly more elaborate, and reviewable, member profiles, which can readily cull away trolls. In Facebook, you’ll only learn that whomever is trolling you belongs to the National Socialist Party, their favorite public figure is Adolf Hitler, and their true passion is assault rifles. There isn’t any reason why they are visiting you other than they are desperate to cause you as much trouble as they can...
Winter is approaching fast in the northern Midwest. Heather has begun chopping wood, and tuning her Skidoo to make sure it’s ready for the weekly blizzards. She is making sure her lake fishing cabin is structurally sound, adding caulk where necessary.
Heather is also checking her fishing tackle to make sure the knots are secure, because this may be the year she catches the record crappie, which in Northern Wisconsin is over ninety pounds (a record she owned just eight years ago)...
Heather just brought her fishing hutch off of Lake Oshbegosh. Yeah, if it’s not ashore by late May, it goes to the bottom of the lake. Into Spring, car traffic is not allowed on the lake any longer. Heather is saddened when winter ends, longing for the return of Arctic temps, so she can drag her beloved fishing igloo out onto the lake again, and catch yet more crappies.
Heather has her Peterbilt pick-up truck to facilitate moving the hutch back and forth for her “hobby.” It’s 8-cylinders on a 10-liter, overhead cam power plant. She has drag raced at Milwaukee Nationals. When the ice-fishing isn’t any good up North, she trailers it down to Daytona for more fun, her Peterbilt is that fast and competitive.
If you ever get the chance, catch Heather on the NASCAR Channel leaving rubber in fourth gear, in her 250 MPH-plus souped-up pick-up, funny-car. Everyone knew she was fast, and wastes no time, but 250 MPH-plus fast?
Heather has often said that racing “is all in the wrist, I concentrate on my wrists out on the track.” When a newbie asked about her: “accelerating engine fatigue when racing.” She only offered this: “I was grinding gears before the day you were born, punk. Eat my fireproof suit...”
Heather Graham varies a great deal in the quality of her screen work. Some of it is really top-notch, and some of it is a paycheck. I blame the writing. If an actress is given lines to read that aren’t credible, or compelling, Meryl Streep couldn’t pull off making that part convincing.
Then, because of prior weak scripts, an actress is relegated to more, very weak scripts. If she is in this “quicksand” I don’t see how she can dig herself out of it, and develop professionally...
It is winter. This means just one thing to Wisconsin born and bred, Heather Graham, and that’s returning home for ice fishing. This is the time of year that Heather forgets the inanities and ultra-seriousness of Hollywood, puts on her hip waders, and heads out on her Ski-doo for a day in her ice fishing hut on Lake Oshbegosh.
(Heather has a 2007 Grand Touring Ski-doo. Everyone she’s ever known has owned a ski-mobile. She does all the work on hers — she has a lift in her garage — much to the amazement of her friends on the lake. Heather has even taken it across frozen Lake Superior to Northern Ontario for lodging and dancing with First Settlers.)
The temperatures are typically 30° below zero, but Heather just loves the peace and quiet communing with nature out on the Lake. All her girlfriends are into the sport, and they help net the tuna-size crappies that she often catches.
After they bring in their haul — Heather’s are always biggest — they take turns where they hold a big fish dinner. Heather’s sisterhood of the ice fisher women date back to when she was just seven years old.
Heather holds the record for crappies, not only on Lake Oshbegosh, but for the entire State of Wisconsin. Crappies are typically panfish, and eight inches long, but somehow the biggest ones from up and down the entire Mississippi River all end up on the end of Heather’s fishing line. She must have the magic touch.
So next you see her playing her typical vixen or cheerleading coach, just imagine her grinning and holding up a trophy-winning, eighty pound crappie for the cameras. Smile, Heather!...
Uma “Mia Wallace” Thurman
(Still from Pulp Fiction © Miramax)
Ms. Thurman was in a horrific auto crash over a dozen years ago, mostly because she was prodded into it by her director, Quentin Tarantino. While still dealing today with the joint injuries from that crash, she puts the blame squarely on Harvey Weinstein for covering it all up. Weinstein is by no means a sympathetic figure to anyone anywhere, but he cannot be blamed for everything wrong in cross-gender relationships.
The reason why Uma will not blame Tarantino for this is simple — or to me, it’s simple — she needs the work, and she likes or loves him. Her entire career is associated with Tarantino, if she is looking for continued franchise opportunities, in say, Kill Bill Volume 8, she cannot be badmouthing Tarantino, because he is her meal ticket. I am not one hundred percent certain I am right about this, but it all adds up in my estimation...
Ms. Thurman will be appearing on Broadway in The Parisian Woman. This is not a dinky, pitiful off-Broadway production, mind you, or even dinkier, and more pitiful, off-off-Broadway. This is the Great White Way.
Bear with me, I’m Drama Desk for the New York Times, I only speak the well-honed truth, even about which I know surprisingly little. My colleague at the Times just did an article on her, which congratulated her staying power having been in Hollywood for more than five years (but I’d say she’s been gracing our screens for closer to thirty).
Anyhow, after the dust settled, and all the readers vent their unfounded hostilities they harbored towards Uma in the Comments Section of the piece, it is on to me, yours truly, with the only opinion that truly matters, my own.
My concern with Uma is tempered by her being such a towering presence on the silver screen, where her profoundly sensitive portrayals are bigger and more majestic than life itself. Instead, I wonder if I have ever seen her happy, near-tearful grin — not even once. (I’ve seen Ashley Judd tearfully grinning, and Gwynnie, too — both of these joyous divorcées look like they’re having a better time of stuff.)
Uma sure seems to me to be one introspective chick, when she smiles, is that often a wistful smile, or am I just being hypercritical? True, Uma has spent much of her career working with Quentin Tarantino, and we all know what light-hearted romps he makes about forgiveness, with each production having its own incredible arsenal of blood-seeking, revenge weaponry.
If I cast her in any of my nascent productions, I will be sure that she grins, and not just once, a few times, several times even. Until I see any evidence of grinning, she will never appear in any of my screenwriting masterworks. Her photos on the Internet, at least, are not of a beaming woman enjoying life to its fullest...
Uma Thurman’s Pulp Fiction portrayal of a moll won her an Oscar nomination. At the same time, the film established her as the muse of Quentin Tarantino, the film’s famous director now best known for relying on incredible visceral sequences. Uma went on to receive Golden Globe nominations for that cinema classic, then for Kill Bill Volume I and Kill Bill Volume II, and took home the Globe for Hysterical Blindness.
The latter is the story of how a few women in 1980’s New Jersey go looking for love in the bar scene, and ultimately find that their friendship is what truly matters most. In the Kill Bill series, Uma plays Beatrix Kiddo, a woman introduced as a bride covered in blood, who is later out for revenge against the killer of her ex-lover. Ms. Thurman spent three months learning martial arts for the part.
In a 2003 Time magazine piece, Tarantino professed his admiration for his favorite actress, putting her right “up there with Garbo and Dietrich in goddess territory.” To date, U, as she is often called, has 51 acting film credits to her name.
Partly because of Uma’s obvious great looks, and partly because of her commanding stage presence — being a five-foot-eleven glamazon cannot hurt — Lancôme and Louis Vuitton retained this part-Swede’s services as a spokeswoman. The Government of France has also knighted her for her achievements in the Arts and Literature.
Uma grew up in Boston, although she did spend a good deal of time in India. Her father, Robert Thurman, is an Ivy League, Buddhist academic who brought the family to the Himalayas on occasion. The Dalai Lama was a very good friend of her Dad, and Mr. Thurman once brought the religious leader home. Nena von Schlebrügge, Uma’s Mom, was briefly married to Timothy Leary, the one-time, Sixties psychedelics pioneer. ‘Uma’ is an alternate name of a Hindu goddess, and it means ‘light.’
Amy “Oscar Nom” Adams
(Still from American Hustle
Francois Duhamel | © 2013 Annapurna Productions LLC)
This is the scene where she is the visiting,
adjunct professor of astrophysics at MIT, and she tells her class
to withhold judgment at what she claims is the new dress code.
Amy Adams is firmly in the Charlize Theron camp of extreme beauty. Amy has such joy, but she’s married as the day is long, so we avoid her discussion...
It has often been said that a man who criticizes a woman’s weight has a death wish. Yet I am concerned — frankly, I am much more than concerned — about a Pantheon actress. Amy looks significantly heavier than she has in the past. Maybe she is only hormonal, but if you see a recent photo, you would doubt this. Did her marriage tank, did her kid have to take remedial French (who hasn’t been there?)
Please, if you live in Amy’s neighborhood, and can assist her: walk her dog, get her car washed, re-shingle her roof, read lines opposite her for her latest, referee fights with her significant others, or make her a nutritious breakfast, please do so. I have done my part in alerting the Universe (and so am now a target for all of Hollywood).
Now it is up to you, Amy’s friends, family, and neighbors, to pick up the slack, and get Amy back in fine fettle. For key roles, Hollywood actresses have been known to lose sixty pounds in two weeks, but still, starvation diets leave stretch marks, and Amy, we don’t need you looking like a prune...
Amy is not a natural redhead, she is actually a blonde. The same goes for Emma Stone. Tragically, and with no sense of remorse, both have been pulling the wool over our eyes for years, make that decades. They whisper Hollywood has no soul, that it’s all fake, well, now we know the rumors are all true. Virginia, there is no Santa Claus, okay?
Nicole Kidman is an actual redhead. For those keeping score at home: Charlize Theron is a blonde, Gwyneth Paltrow is, too. Unless we get anymore shocking news, like we did with Amy and Emma, Lindsay Lohan is also a redhead. Kim Kardashia was originally a blond (see Taylor Swift section for explanation).
Amy said that once her ’do went ginger, she started getting all the feisty, quirky, fun roles. When she was a blonde, she got roles playing stuck-up bimbos. By the way, if you read about a hair color fraud of which most are unaware, or better, notice one yourself; please drop us a line at the Other Letter Tip Line...
Charlize “The Face” Theron
Isn’t she that Afrikaans, Dutch girl? Is she ever good-looking.
Of the entire lot on this Pantheon page, the one I have the most respect for is Charlize Theron. (Or Charli — pronounced Shar-lee — to those closest to her. Her best buds also know her as “Dimples.”) She isn’t entangled in Baby Jesus, or alien, matrimonial scenes. She’s got it all together, and from every outward appearance she is an unusually pleasant woman.
This photo is via Charlize Theron’s Instagram page. Is Charli, aka “The Face”, as gorgeous on the inside in person, as she is on the outside anywhere else? Watching her in interviews, can there be any doubt?
After Charli brushed me off (see below), I did run into her on a JFK to Tokyo non-stop, without layover. I was doing the usual, perfecting the human genome on my laptop, and Charli was rehearsing her spiel to promote her latest, Centurion, Halt!
Anyhow, to make a long story short, I explained to her my reverse-Stockholm axiom. The Stockholm Syndrome occurs when you take on the traits of your kidnappers. Reverse-Stockholm Syndrome is when you do the exact opposite of your tormenters. Your daughter, Jackson, may have this.
Charli looked at me like I just landed on Earth from Mars, but then she said, “You’ve got opening remarks in Berlin at the Global Symposium of Acceptable and Exploitable Gender Roles. I still don’t believe anything you’ve ever said, but my family’s medical team as well as the entire Harvard Medical School, who will all be in attendance, may find this just as amusing as I find you.
“Here, I have a front-row ticket. Scalpers sell these for thousands all along the Ebertplatz. You’ll be sitting next to Sigmund Freud’s granddaughter, Helga Freud. I would come prepared, Other, careers delving in the mental sciences, are won and lost here.”
With that, Charli slept the rest of the flight. After the plane taxied, she hightailed it out of the 767’s cabin, and I haven’t seen or heard her since. I RSVP’d at the Symposium, but they said I was never formally invited. Oh, well...
I’ve been needling Charlize so she’ll promote a male orientation for her daughter, Jackson. Because I am the authority in the field of developmental psychology, my viewpoint is the only one worth hearing. Well, Charli actually wrote me back attempting to trump me with the views of the “friendly” Harvard Gender Reassignment Panel. Here are her remarks:
“Thanks for your scribbles, Other, but the Gender Reassignment Panel came back from Harvard with its findings, and Jackson’s 2.78, with a perfectly acceptable margin of error, so everything’s cool.
“Listen, I’m flying into Zurich, then it’s onto Sydney. Gotta win those awards, and plug those pictures. The moppets are with certified nannies. Let me know if I’m starring in your movie. Toddles.
“Wait, before I leave in my private jet, the Harvard Panel decided that I needed to keep Jackson as far away from males as possible so as to avoid gender contamination. If I ever invite you to my manse, you’ll be required to wear a mask of a non-threatening female. I’ve already chosen Doris Day for you from my mask collection. This would be from her Pillow Talk period, when else?
“Oh, and all athletic sporting events must be female ones. Girls’ field hockey, and cheerleading squads wearing skirts are acceptable — and this is top-level Harvard making the decisions, so we know it’s all good. Other, I’d like to say it’s been real, but it did lack gender nuance...”
I’ll be staying a few weeks in Charlize’s South Africa, so I needed to know what’s good eats. I have to be frank here, the selections were not as varied as they are Stateside, but I’m not saying that they’re any worse.
South Africa does have a prestige collection of dried fruit and nuts, apparently they are produced in great abundance there. The Food Lovers Market looked very good, and I’ll be sure to stop in to the Market for the Asian-spiced pork neck roast.
American tries to be everything to everyone, and satisfy everyone that marketing metrics say needs to be satisfied, with scientifically-measured enticements. The South African approach is much more: “This is what we know that you’ll love...”
Charli won a lifetime achievement award from a major organization. You want me to tell you which one, don’t you? Okay, I’ll look it up, one second, and I shall let you know... She won the Career Achievement Award — at the tender age of forty-four — from the Hollywood Film Awards.
In her usual gracious manner, she gave all thanks to me, whom she studied under at the Institute for Advanced Film Studies. I even get the credit for her riveting performance in Monster.
Remember when she waved the gun in the air, and told everyone that this would get her on the cover of the Rolling Stone? All that “improv” was from yours truly, yet I don’t have the Oscar, Charli does. There isn’t any justice in Hollywood. I won’t begrudge — good work, Charli...
Everyone knows that Charli curses like a sailor. Well, now, it’s effecting the bottom line of her movies. Something needed to be done, so now she has a cussin’ jar in her kitchen with proceeds given to charity.
Any profanity she utters means a Benjamin, a hundred dollar bill, goes from her purse into the tip jar. Because of her donations, her cussin’ jar has financed a sewer district in her native Ruwumba. Way to be, Charli...
Okay, I must say this, and jeopardize the super-fine relationship I have with Charlize Theron. Charlize, sit down — no, not there, here.
Better, okay, I seriously doubt that your son who’s now defined as a daughter is so set on being a girl. Does Jackson want a boyfriend? Is he, err she, effeminate in many ways? Long hair doesn’t count. Kids want to look all rock star.
I remember reading that you had a break-up scene with Sean Penn, and Jackson witnessed this. He was absolutely grieving of the whole situation. I understand that his home environment before you adopted him was also traumatic, and left at least a few scars. Well, will Jackson think so highly of men after this? Yet how many men are present in his life today? Are there any at all?
My point is: Before you buy him the Betty Crocker Little Girl Baking Kit, and indulge him with all kinds of crazy girl stuff (and do you ever have the money to indulge him), watch sports with him. See if he would rather be out on the field, or be a cheerleader on the sidelines. I may be way out of line, and grossly oversimplifying the entire situation, but I think I raise important points.
One more point: Why didn’t you adopt the kid who was Harvard, grade school, early admit? Or take on the kid who can bench three of his classmates? Just put him in your home gym, and let him loose.
You wanted to adopt a kid who needed your love the most? Still, the Mensa moppet, or the NFL prospect, would have been far more cost-effective. When everything is reduced to a financial equation, we’re all happier...
Charlize Theron, Oscar-winner, has made a name for herself as an action hero — of all things. In some quarters, this is great. Charlize is super-hot looking, and we get to see her as a bad-ass.
But as far as I’m concerned, this is a waste of her exceptional talents on blood-and-guts combat. True, she’s past forty, and in Hollywood this means that roles for actresses are far and few between.
They must take whatever is thrown their way, even if it involves butchering a sworn enemy in vengence. There is a scene in one of Tarantino’s movies, I cannot recall which one, where Uma Thurman is a cannibal eating her enemy’s carcass by a bonfire.
Anyhow, this is what I fear of Charli, that she’s in some God-forsaken Tarantino movie chomping on the remains of someone’s forearm. If this can happen to Uma, can’t it happen to Charli? Of course it can, and will, if Charli doesn’t leave the dark side of Hollywood...
Finding Your Roots is a long-running show on PBS (Public Broadcasting System), hosted by Henry Louis Gates Jr. In it, celebrity guests learn everything about their genealogy, even learning some things they probably didn’t want to know.
Charlize Theron was on the show recently where her true racial identity was revealed. Born in South Africa, she’s an African American who’s actually White, or is she?
Mr. Gates ran her DNA against the Mumbabwe tribal databank in Dahomey Kingdom. Mumbabwe 16th Century, papyrus birth certificates were kept in a central depository inside a quonset hut, in the middle of every village. Once the show’s investigators found the depository (beneath hundreds of bibles left behind by frustrated missionaries), it was not a problem at all verifying Charli’s genetic results.
As it turns out, Charlize is both an Oscar-winner, and a Black, albino African. During the ruthless, colonial slave trade, the Chieftain had all the albino men and women of their Black tribe intermingle and mate. This way, Charlize’s direct ancestors would be overlooked as slave prospects because they appeared White.
“That’s right, Charlize, your great, great, great, great grandmother was Lamoyne, but your great, great, great grandmother was Mary Elizabeth. How does it feel to be one hundred percent Black African? — if simply albino Black.”
“I am stunned, I’m a Black person in a White shell?”
“That’s right, you were protected from becoming a slave by having your bloodline made ivory, with albino Blacks.”
“I have to tell my kids this. I adopted two Blacks kids and they always looked at me askance for being White bread. Well, now they won’t have to, I’m one of them, right down to the genetic level...”
Charlize Theron is releasing her new stoner classic: Why Everybody must get Stoned. In it, she plays a wake and bake clerk at a super store of an inconsequential town named Dullesville, one where no one has ever gotten high. Charlize takes every customer into the storage closet and proceeds to blow their minds with the strongest sinsemilla.
Eventually the entire town is toking, including Mayor Numbnuts, Pastor Buford, and Sheriff White-bread, all former owners of Dullesville’s once-thriving whiskey distillery, yet now dreadlock-donning stoners...
By the curtain close, Charli is getting high fives all around for her primo bud and cannabis marketing acumen. Why Everybody must... is headed for a Christmas release under Charlize’s own production company, Daphne and Dubuque, and Hallmark Heart Warmers...
Who caught the Golden Globes? And did you see who the looker among the lookers was? That’s right, our Charli Theron. There is a huge professional problem with her beauty, because any one she plays automatically lacks realism. No one but Charli looks this good. Ms. Theron has been relegated to become an Oscar-winning action hero. She is passed over for any serious dramatic scripts.
Well, I have the solution, Charli. You need to look your age, you need to honor your maturity, you need crows feet, you need lines on your face. Then you will have realism, and roles that adults would appreciate. This is how you get that aging: Live for a month in a bus terminal, or in the woods. Follow this with a three-month cocaine bender. This is what is known as method acting.
That is how you succeed in Hollywood, looks do not matter there, we all know this. To get out of the action hero trap, you must look your age, Charli. Now, get ready for your agents constant calls, ones begging you to play wizened women deciding whether to kill for a Happy Meal, or to kill for a cigarette. Oh, wait, did you already play that in Monster?...
Charli finally followed my advice and tried to arrange a return of her adoptive moppets. Things did not quite go as planned, however. Charli presented them to the orphanage, and the orphanage director told her their policy: “Orphans sold here will not be accepted for return.”
Per my earlier coaching of Charli, she started throwing everything in sight: computer monitors, pencil sharpeners (it was an old facility), chairs, desks, on and on. Orphanage workers started filming this on their cell phones, and that’s when things really got nasty.
Ms. Theron started screaming: “I DO NOT WANT THESE MOPPETS!!! DO YOU UNDERSAND ME?!!! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH WORK IT TAKES TO RAISE THEM!!! TAKE THEM BACK, NOW!!!” And then she ran outside with every employees cell phone and threw them into oncoming traffic on the one-oh-one, where the phones were all run over and smashed into bits.
After Charli told me this, I knew we needed to come up with a better plan, but unfortunately for her, I didn’t have one... Yet, they were orphans from Africa — that’s it! We would Fedex them back to Africa, where they came from! High fives, all around... To be continued...
Gwyneth “Viola” Paltrow
Ms. Paltrow played Viola de Lesseps in Shakespeare in Love, her Oscar-winning performance.
Gwynnie has her ignorant detractors, but I, and many more such as myself, know that she’s unusually attractive.
I wanna be the one who she’s lovingly gazing upon. Sigh...
(Via the promotional Instagram page of Gwyneth Paltrow. Used without permission. She definitely seems cool though.)
These are many of Gwynnie’s celebrity friends. They are mine as well, but I’m far less public and showy about it.
Everyone who follows Gwynnie Paltrow knows how thin her skin is. Shaking her fists at the ceiling, tears streaming down her cheeks, she personally takes to heart every negative comment on social media. Nothing rolls off her back.
She weeps openly moments after she starts to read her Instagram account. Goop employees know to leave her alone as she sobs over every post by any and all Facebook trolls...
Schedule permitting, Gwynnie brings me to all kinds of places. Most recently, she even brought me to the old Tijuana section of Los Angeles to Grotto el Mexicano which is a favorite among Hollywood types.
Gwynnie always orders the huevos rancheros and she often goes in the back to tell the Hispanic chefs how the dishes should be cooked. I could hear her loudly shout: “Wrong, wrong, wrong! Butter is last. Buttero es lasto. How did you get so stupid, when I’m so smart? Hmm?”
Gwynnie critiques the musical selection and its execution: “Not 8/8, 4/4 time signature, goddammit. I’m not a Mexican jumping bean, you know. Imbecile! And play my Grotto favorite, MacArthur Park. Someone left my cake out in the rain. Green icing dripping down. Come on. Sing it like you mean it. Gees, how lame can you get? MacArthur Park, where’s the contemporary feel?
“You want el tip-o, don’t you, Gracious Dead? Other, I like to throw pennies on the ground that they scramble for. Throw some pennies. Come on. East meets West, North meets South, rich meets poor. Feel the power of capitalism.
“Hey, the Dead, why do you all look like you’re asleep? Do I have to go out to my car and get my whip? Other, they have trouble with simple instructions. Sing with me, Other. On this verse, hit it!... Someone left my cake out in the rain...”
Gwynnie showed me around the city of Angels when she wasn’t shooting her latest, greatest, Pirates are Forever. She really gave me the insider’s look.
Unbeknownst, every Angeleno eats hot-and-spicy Mexican, or at least Tex-Mex, at every meal. Most here have colitis ulcers because of the endless hot pepper sauce which is even sprinkled on desserts like the apricotos, or the pepperinos.
Very surprisingly, White children in L.A. today, are all proudly named either: Jose, Magdalena, Conchita, Nestor, Ronaldo, Consuela, and Miguel, after Mexican, Incan, or Mayan, folk heros...
Gwyneth took a very, wrong turn in the Land of Endorsements. With Gwynnie’s latest Dubai, travel campaign, she is unwittingly the new voice of oppression. Unbeknownst, she leads the charge of repression against gays and lesbians, against the rights of the raped, and against freedom of speech.
I believe Gwyneth has an unusual level of discretion regarding the promotional campaigns she backs. She is globally-recognized, and it is in such incredibly poor form to get behind unworthy, even disgraceful, marketing efforts. Someone at her talent agency must have dropped the ball here, and I would hope someone picks it back up again, and gets Gwynnie far, far, away from promoting Dubai.
Sorry, Gwynnie, but if I don’t notify the entire world via this blog, the situation will never be resolved. The oppressed in Dubai deserve better.
Gwynnie, your good friend, Taylor Swift, has led a vigorous campaign to defend the civil rights of gays and lesbians here in the States. Yet by supporting hate in Dubai, you only do the opposite. You do a serious disservice to those in the United Arab Emirates whose civil rights have been, are, or can be, violated.
I would suggest that the money you received here is donated to GLAAD, or a similar organization. How hard up for cash can you be that you cannot fork over the ill-gotten sums to an appropriate charity? This endorsement was a sad mistake.
If you realized the error of your ways, and gave away the money, why won’t you announce this? You can tell the world of how great Dubai is, and implicitly endorse how rotten they are, yet you cannot tell the world that your enthusiasm is entirely misplaced? Oh, well, it’s your conscience. Doesn’t this make you more of the problem, than you are the solution?...
The reason that I’m not cutting you a break, Gwynnie, is because I am in charge of Pantheon discipline, and I also chair our ethics committee. This will top the agenda at our monthly meeting. Do not expect any leniency, Gwynnie. After all the misfires of late, and backroom negotiations to save face, we cannot use more scandal here...
Yet there’s more to this story. As an endorser bona fide, Gwynnie cannot speak out publicly against her employer (here, the City of Dubai) for the rest of her natural life. She had to sign a non-indemnification waiver with the Screen Actors Guild once she became an endorser. As a result, all the work she did in support of lethal vaping, and when she caused the 2009 market crash with her Gwynnie-Mae financing, she cannot criticize in any way.
This is little different than Ashley Judd’s abolition of sex work crusade. After that proved absolutely disastrous (a sex worker credibly said Ashley was “harming” their trade), Ashley could not offer a mea culpa of any kind. She was legally obligated to support her employers (Demand Abolition and Pope Francis’ Choir Boy Campaign), and could not be critical at all to either of them...
At the recent New York Times Women in Fashion Cavalcade, or some such, Gwynnie was near tears recalling how Jeff Bezos, the world’s wealthiest man rejected her advances to learn about business.
Wealthiest on paper, that is. After a market crash, and he’s selling hot dogs from a Times Square, food cart on 42nd and 8th, straight out of Maggie Gyllenhaal’s The Deuce.
Gwynnie has to understand the credentials of her educational quarry. Does Bezos know anything? He runs a mail order business. He knows re-order points, and he knows distributed sourcing. He got lucky selling online before that was the preferred mode of business transaction. Bezos is Sears Roebuck with an online presence.
Gwynnie doesn’t want to be friends with Jeff Bezos, she really wants to be friends with Michael Bloomberg. That’s the hot lecture ticket. Bloomberg knows Wall Street backwards and forwards. He invented the investment community’s primary means of following the market.
Bezos knows delivery trucks, and stiffing New York City and New York State, after promising that Amazon was moving here. Bezos reminds everyone of that other, selfish, disgraced Jeff.
It doesn’t matter what I think of Gwynnie’s performance in Shakespeare in Love. Let’s ask the Academy of her peers. Seven Oscars won: Best Picture, Best Actress (Gwynnie’s gold statuette), Best Supporting Actress, Best Screenplay, Best Score, Best Costumes.
Should they make Weinstein, the sexual-harassing producer, return his Shakespeare producing Oscar? Maybe this is more of a question for Ashley Judd, as she was one whose career and psyche were most hurt by his crappy power plays. What would Ashley say?
Weinstein always carries it with him, so grab it, then run it over with your car until its unrecognizable, then hand the shards back to him, and say, “This is what I think of your Oscar, like what you thought of all those women you manipulated, used, and damaged...”
The reason that Gwynnie cannot remember the action hero movies she was in, is because she’s doing her best to forget she was ever in them (that, and she has early-onset Alzheimer’s, see below).
Gwyneth made her name acting in the very high brow, Shakespeare in Love. These super-hero movies are just huge paychecks that she’s embarrassed in playing a part.
I was speaking to her yesterday by Skype, and she will hedge and haw about how much the MCU (Marvel Cinematic Universe) means to her, especially as she fast approaches fifty-years-of-age, and is only offered grandma roles.
Her husband, Chadley Wonder-Bred, just wrote her into a senior citizen home drama, where Gwynnie leads a revolt in protest of the quality of cafeteria meat. Anyhow, anything she’s offered these days is so incredibly far below her Shakespeare glory days...
Exclusive to the Other Letter: Gwynnie Paltrow has early-onset Alzheimer’s! Her memory is entirely selective, she only remembers what doesn’t cause her pain and discomfort.
That’s the report out of UCLA Medical Center. Gwynnie is entirely unable to remember her co-stars names in several, Marvel super-hero movies, as well as forgetting the names of her stepchildren.
Just Friday in their Downtown L.A. medical offices, the doctors told Gwynnie, and her nearest of kin, of the grim diagnosis. Their only advice to a desperate family looking for answers: “Keep her off the gluten.”
They added that she doesn’t even know she has step-kids, or anything about her second husband, Chadley Wonder-bred, whom she just refers to as “this guy I met in the mall that day...” Gwynnie, we hardly knew ye...
Gwynnie is famous. Her face is recognizable world-wide. There’s a problem getting so well known in that it prevents an actress from playing roles other than themselves. The makeup has to disguise how she looks as a celebrity in real life. This is true of any Pantheon-class actress, but it’s especially true of Gwynnie.
Will we ever see Gwynnie play a cop, a nurse, an accountant, or a desk clerk? The only way this would work would be for laughs. Otherwise, there’s no way possible that Gwynnie Paltrow plays a cop.
Gwynnie is spent as far as most female roles go. The audience doesn’t see the character anymore, they see Gwyneth Paltrow. How can Gwynnie play anyone such as a nurse, a cop, a lawyer, in fact anyone besides a socialite, or an executive?
Her casting decisions must be a middle ground between who we know as Gwynnie, and who we see her portray on the screen.
Then how are any chameleon effects of Meryl Streep explained? Give makeup some credit, but also give credit to the fact that Streep is hardly known to the public, as she doesn’t make many public appearances. Gwynnie we know well, Meryl we don’t. In Gwynnie, we have preconceptions, in Meryl, we don’t.
She cannot play most female roles anymore, because she’s so well-known as Gwynnie the celebrity. In Glee, Gwynnie plays a teacher, but more than that, she essentially plays herself, the performer.
This is true of all of the Pantheon women, but this is most true of Gwynnie. In her defense, she may say that every woman roles aren’t her specialty. She only plays women at the top of their game who possess a measure of elegance and grace. Blue collar roles will never be given to her agent over at Winifred & Buttwhip Talent Agency.
True, she needs to be cast within type, but that type gets more and more limited with her appearances globally. Due to overexposure, and audience preconceptions, the window on Gwynnie playing Sergeant Gal Friday has been slammed shut forever. This may be seen as nonsense, but then let’s see Gwynnie play Sergeant Friday...
I just came across this Gwyneth ad, live on Goop TV:
“It’s Sunday, and more than anything else at the Palchuck residence, Sunday means casual. Casual separates from J. Crew, and now the look everyone needs, earth tone ponchos with paisley leggings.
“Cue my daughter, Apple Palchuck, who will model the latest from the Goop x J. Crew Collaboration...
“Honey? Apple? We’re modeling now. The camera crew is here now. Apple? Where’d she go? Hmm. Hmm. Okay, let me don these casual separates. Turn your head, faithful Goopians...
“Okay, the Goop x J. Crew Casual Separates Collection, exclusively from Goop. What?... Oh, right, it’s the corroboration, not the collection. Stay on the branding track. Apple, honey? Where’d she go?...”
Goop TV Channel then lost its live feed, which was replaced by white noise...
Just out in hardcover, Gwyneth has the holiday selections she’s authored: Confessions of an In-charge Diva. Additionally, she has more brand new to the Paltrow section of your independent bookseller, for both the novitiate, and the die-hard Paltrow loyalist.
There’s a welcome addition to the bookshelf of the casual reader, Gwyneth Paltrow: My Many Homes in Photos, and this instant-classic cookbook, The Joy of Pasta (check for discounts).
Plus, in time for Christmas celebrations: Gwynnie Cherry-picks Xmas Catalogs. Then, we have my favorite, where Gwynnie handily tackles world politics: Gwynnie Talks Geopolitics (secondary title: If Gwynnie Ruled the World).
Then there’s: Everything you wanted to know about Gwynnie (but were afraid to ask), by Gwyneth Paltrow (ghost written by Mr. Gwyneth Paltrow)...
Have you heard Gwynnie tout her latest, greatest, on Instagram?
“Hi, you know who I am, I’m Gwynnie Paltrow, and I’m here to introduce the Gwynnie 9000, Personal Automation Appliance. I’ve been the fashion forward leader in both haute couture and home decor for, what, thirty years now?
“Well, get this, now the Goop Automation Division has this appliance, and you can do all kinds of wild things with it. First, put the automation app in your mobile phone... Then, all the fun begins.
“I talk to it: ‘Gwynnie 9000, wake me up at 9AM tomorrow.’ And you’ll see... ‘Gwynnie 9000 has a question for Gwyneth Paltrow, which time zone are you in?’ ‘I’m Pacific Coast...’
“‘Who are you addressing? I don’t understand your voice command.’ Oh, okay. ‘Gwynnie 9000, I’m Pacific Coast...’ ‘Is this Japan or California?’
“But it does do other great things. Listen to this: ‘I’m cooking a soufflé, and I need it in the oven for an hour...’ ‘Who is this command for?’ Oh, oh. ‘For the Gwynnie 9000?...’ ‘Yes? I’m the Gwynnie 9000.’
“Never mind, a few kinks need to be worked out, but get yours today. ‘Gwynnie 9000, tell the audience how much this sophistication costs...’ ‘I have not been programmed to provide this function.’
“‘My Apple loves to tinker with phones, I’ll give this to her. She’ll figure it all out...’ ‘Apple is not on the adult, approved user list. Reenter the name of an adult to begin two-factor authentication.’”
Check out Gwyneth Paltrow’s latest Instagram, video post. If you are fortunate enough to not be hooked on Instagram, go to Bing.com, then enter name in the search box. I’ll wait. Okay, I waited.
Have you ever seen such vitality, especially at her advanced age of forty-seven years of age? How is this possible? She looks phenomenal.
You know what it is? It’s all that crap she eats that’s listed on her Goop website. All that rubbish is making her look great. Geez, maybe I should start eating all the inedible stuff that she does.
I’ll start with New Year’s resolutions like microbiotic, flora-only diets, after I lay off my advanced calculus analysis of when the moon hits Earth, and my translation of the Bible from the original Aramaic. That’s the ticket, I’ll change my diet after I finish up those two things...
Welcome to the Goop, Stoner Cooking Hour. I am, I am, hehe, I am your host, why I am Gwyneth Paltrow. Okay, let’s get started, shall we? We shall. Out comes the eggs. The eggs, hehe, the eggs. Inside joke. Okay, break the eggs, hehe, I’m sorry, breaking the eggs, you know, hehe. Okay, keep it together, Gwynster.
Out comes the hash, the hashish, hehe, hehe. How much hashish? I got Gwynnie kinda cash, I could put in enough to get an elephant buzzin’. They sold me an ounce down in the red light district, so an ounce it has to be. Mix the hash with the eggs, the eggs, hehe, hehe.
What else? Did I have a recipe? Psychokinesis, recipe appear, shazam! Recipe appear, recipe? Hehe, hehe, no recipe. Let’s just wing it today, okay, we’re adults. Hehe, hehe, adults, hehe, hehe.
Oh, right in front of my nose, a carton of milk. Milk, milk, hehe, hehe. What do I do with the milk? Hmm? Milk? Okay, I pour the milk into the bowl. Slowly, no spills, Miss Gwynnie, hehe, hehe. There, I did it. Milk, hash, hehe, hehe, eggs, hehe, hehe.
But wait, there’s more, if you act today. Hehe, hehe. I bet the next ingredient is right in front of me, and I just don’t realize it yet. And whadja know, long time no see, Mister Chocolate Chip. Mister Chocolate Chip, say hi to Gwynnie. Aren’t you an attractive chocolate chip, I could eat you alive. I will eat you now in fact. Goodbye, Mister Chips, wait, was I in that one? I think I was.
Sugar pie, honey bunch, where’d you go, my friend? Come out, come out, wherever you are. Come out? Hehe, hehe. Now, were we supposed to measure these? No, of course not, these are Ms. Paltrow’s hash brownies, why measure? Hehe, hehe.
Why am I so hungry? No need to bake these, just take your grubby paws, grubby paws, hehe hehe, and satisfy those munchies. I made a few batches of these, and whadja know, I kinda put on a few pounds, and time for blemish concealer, but who cares, these are so good. Hehe, hehe.
You can taste Mister chocolate chips, it’s really the strongest flavor note. Note? Note the notes. Hehe, hehe. This is a symphony of sugar, chocolate, hash. I’ll tell you, my husbands couldn’t give me this kinda rush. Hehe, hehe.
Now, here’s something to try at home. Put your face into the bowl. Hehe, hehe. Pretend you’re the biggest, baddest fish in the ocean, and chow down. You’re among friends, why the hell not?
I’m just going to go asleep for a while. Wake me up in a week, I have to be somewhere — making dinner for Bradley, I bet. Life sucks, but I have hash brownies to pick up the slack. Bye, bye, I’ll just curl up on the counter-top. Meow, meow, hehe, hehe...
Gwynnie left her hotel room in a red-and-blue kimono with a Batman pattern. This might mean a number of things.
She’s looking to sign on to the Batman movie franchise, and she doing a little fishing expedition to see if anyone will pick her up for the part of Batgirl, Catwoman, or a moll of one of many assorted villains.
Or Gwynnie sees her husband, Chadley Wonder-bred, as someone so charismatic, with such valor, and such moral fortitude, that she felt like celebrating him with Batman wear. That’s a joke, their marriage is on the skids (in my humble opinion). They don’t even walk beside one another, because they have nothing to share.
There is yet another possible explanation. She has a secret romantic interest with a Batman-type, who is saving Gotham as we speak. Perhaps he’s a blogger, one with a full head of hair — unlike Chadley — but who can be sure?
Has our heroine, Gwynnie, found a self-deputized, freelance, crimefighter, who will take the torch from the Bat-cave, hop into his Bat-mobile, and fight all manner of villainy? Stay tuned, Citizen, same Bat-time, same Bat-channel...
Ms. Paltrow is top-billed in The Politician, a sitcom written by her husband, Bradley Falchuck. Regrettably for all concerned, it was widely panned. Even Gwynnie’s performance got weak notices. Yet I would blame the writer, long before I blamed the actress.
The best actor on Earth, say Jack Nicholson, cannot do a thing with poorly written material. I saw Falchuck as a producer anyhow, because if your main contribution to the world of television is writing Glee episodes, your future as a writer is bleaker than you know.
What’s more, when you sleep your way to the top of Hollywood, you must be expert at your writing craft when you get there. If Falchuck’s writing skills were on trial, Glee is Exhibit A...
Stevie Wonder’s Superstition was played as Gwynnie presented at the 2019 Emmys. Now, why on earth would they ever do that? Is this a reference to what has been called: Goop pseudoscience?
I thought she gave up on pseudoscience anecdotes for the real variety of medicine. Was I mistaken? Could Gwynnie enjoy rolling the dice, tangling, and tempting fate, with consumer regulators?
Or might her search for heretofore unknown elixirs yield miracles, or at least breakthroughs?
Gwynnie is celebrating the body beautiful over at Goop this week. There’s a nude photo of the backside of a woman who looks a lot like Gwynnie, but attribution is not given.
Her rib cage shows, but that’s only because she’s reaching over her head. The photo actually received complaints. This is even though her shapely buns are in full view. I’m not so sure the guys who made the criticisms were heterosexual.
Hard core feminists have also weighed in against Goop and Gwynnie. Instead of a thin woman, would feminists have much more appreciated an obese model instead? Would that have satisfied their needs for inclusion?
Gwynnie works in aspirational commerce, that which might not be attainable, but for some, might be a goal. She also tends towards aspirational body types, that which is not her readers’ type today, but with work, may be attainable in the future...
Martha Stewart has been really hard on Gwynnie with the cheap shots recently. Martha says domestic divas are only the ones who are humble, hard-working, salt-of-the-earth, ex-cons, like she is.
Thing is, Stewart is like, what, eighty-years-old now? Why is she still in this business? Shouldn’t she be at her home in Westport, Connecticut, in her rocking chair, being spoon fed porridge? That is, when her staff is not emptying her drool cup...
I was channel surfing the other day, and I found this: Gwynnie’s Reflections on the Goop Television Network. Here’s what she had to offer us:
We’ve all been there. You and your guy are preparing for an intense, all night session of passionate love making. You lower your paisley, Goop duvet. You turn back your mauve, Goop covers. You fluff up your beige, Goop pillows. To celebrate the joy of the hog-tie, you lay out your Goop rope ties and constrainers. You do a quick striptease for your guy.
Then you unfasten his toupee with Goop pry away, and paired, Goop grippers. You place his toupee on your Goop styrofoam head, and you’re at last ready to devour your forty-plus, baldy, homme de jour. That’s man of the day for those not yet blessed with literacy in the French language of love...
I had to resume surfing, this was all I could take...
When Gwynnie’s part-time husband is called back into bedroom service, where does he keep his toupee? Is there a styrofoam head on the bed stand? Is there more than one styrofoam head as he may have several toupees for different occasions? Are they brought over to Gwynnie’s in a briefcase for discreetness?
If he’s getting chemo for an undisclosed cancer diagnosis, then doesn’t he realize that his concomitant hair loss would be a sympathy goldmine, and that his baldness must be flaunted?
Does he name his toupees based on their effect? Is there the Tom Cruise toupee? The Pierce Brosnan? The Matthew McConaughey? Does Gwynnie tell him to grab, say, the Brosnan, for a sophisticated night at the opera? Then Gwynnie directs her current husband to grab the Cruise, which is the action one for a dip in the ocean?
Or after bad press, they both go incognito as Bradley goes back to donning the Baldy...
Magazine profile photos are handled much differently depending upon age and gender. Consider a recent photo shoot by People magazine at the Paltrow household. At forty-six years of age, they’ll aim to highlight any sex appeal Gwynnie can muster. Typically, she gets in at 10PM, so they use low lighting to minimize the bags under her eyes.
(She sits down for dinner at 8PM, but only if she entirely avoids the one-oh-one. She can pull this off by taking her whirly bird to the helipad in her backyard. Gwynnie does have her pilot license, but she is often too tired to fly.)
The magazine staff begins by having Gwynnie pose in the kitchen as a dumb blond baffled by how a measuring cup, oven, and blender, work. Or a yoga photo where she touches her toes with a revealing, see-through leotard.
The portrait of Gwynnie’s Mom includes pix of her knitting, cutting flowers, then arranging them in a vase, or just doing her taxes. Again, this is very age-appropriate, and is exactly what the People reader pays to see.
Gwynnie’s husband, Bradley, has photos with a look of exasperation, like why am I not seen in the same class as Orson Welles? Or People has him fixing a motorcycle when he’s never even been on one in his life.
The two Paltrow moppets are seen peering behind astrophysics textbooks. The caption explains that they skipped ahead three grades, and are applying to Harvard early admittance as high school sophomores. The moppets are so advanced, that they are bored out of their minds. The challenge is gone.
Gwynnie assents to having her family photographed because it’s good business, both for Goop and because this keeps her name on the white boards of Hollywood, casting directors. People love these shoots because it’s either the Paltrows, or the Trumps, and Donald once tried to bite off a photog’s arm...
What do you know, Gwynnie married Moby. First, Gwynnie married a dead ringer for Fabio, now her husband has morphed into Moby, the EDM, electronic dance music, guy. Very surprisingly, Gwynnie’s Bradley shaved his head when he already had a full head of hair. He looks like a cue ball now. The next day, he had a full head of hair, so he might be wearing a toupee.
Why would he go incognito? Is he joining the Hare Krishnas? Is this a Kojak, Telly Savalas, tough guy, chrome-dome to advance his career? Sorry, but he just seems like one strange bird. Bradley looks like he’s a mob informant in the witness protection program.
Considering his wife left him three years after he met Gwynnie, maybe he’s developing a well-deserved reputation as an adulterer. It does happen, especially in Hollywood where most everyone’s striving, leapfrogging to get ahead, and back-stabbing. Who cares if two sets of kids now have part-time dads, it’s all about the good PR. I’m happy for Bradley, I really am, because — oh, never mind...
Gwynnie was explaining a new product line of hers. They’re called Unisex Intimates X Goop. Gwynnie can explain much better here:
“This is our entré into the unisex intimates space. Okay, let’s say your partner has run out of briefs, and they’re getting ready for work. There is hardly the time to launder a fresh pair of undies.
“So your partner reaches into your intimates drawer, and he or she pulls out a pair of Unisex Intimates X Goop briefs. They get to work feeling clean and refreshed in your Unisex Intimates X Goop briefs.
“This mostly tested well with young, urban professionals, but any target demographic seeking the convenience, and practicality, of unisex intimates will go for these...”
Bradley now claims he’s not famous, and he doesn’t care for fame anyhow? He didn’t have any idea what being associated with Gwynnie would do to his career as a TV gag writer for teen sit coms? That’s such bullsh*t. As soon as he boarded Gwynnie’s gravy train, he became internationally known, and his stock soared.
In fact, he’s announced the launch of his own company. He asks the interviewer: “Am I good enough...?” or the aw shucks equivalent. Without sounding at all sour grapes, I will answer that question for you, Bradley, you aren’t good enough.
Is there any way your company would be green lighted without your association with the Gwynnie name, and for coming up with memorable dialog, and priceless gems such as this: “What would you know about Cee Lo [Lead Zeppelin cover band], you’re like forty, [I’m] top forty, sweet cheeks! — HIT IT!”
Okay, that is entirely banal, but that’s American television today, it’s an over-promoted cesspool of unimaginative tripe, and Bradley has been promoted to being a key player...
Did Gwynnie have an illicit affair with Bradley Falchuk? They met in 2010 on the set of Glee, and his wife, Suzanne Falchuk (née Bukinik), filed for divorce in 2013. Why did his wife leave him? Because he was a great husband and father? Because his career at Glee was taking off to the stratosphere? Or because he had Gwynnie on the side?
Does anyone believe that Bradley stayed away from Gwynnie for four years until they supposedly started dating in 2014? That it took Falchuk four entire years to get beyond: “How was your weekend?” to “Let’s make plans this weekend.” He might hold off hitting on a globally known starlet because he was a family man, but having an adulterous affair implies being the opposite of one.
Gwynnie split from her British husband, rock star Chris Martin, in 2015. In 2018, the Glee lovebirds married, and this year they intend to live together full time. It would seem that Gwynnie, an Oscar winner, rejected a real musical talent over a tv gag writer of teen sit coms.
Who cares? Well, for a spouse to reject another spouse might be seen as manageable heartbreak. Gwynnie, with all that New Age, unproven, anecdotal, science of hers, could have been an easy write-off for straight-ahead rocker, Chris Martin. But what about the children, who are now relegated to having part time dads? That’s the part that’s unconscionable.
They couldn’t wait to dissolve their marriages first? It seems Martin couldn’t care less about Gwynnie’s behavior, but Falchuk’s wife, Suzanne Falchuk, was really put out, and put upon by both Gwynnie and Bradley, because she sought, and got, a divorce. Ms. Bukinik and her kids are the victims to the Glee couple’s impulsiveness.
I would like to believe that the scarlet letter “A” didn’t play a part, but for a wife to leave a “successful” husband at the height of his earning powers (even writing teen sit coms), must mean Bradley cheated with Gwynnie.
One might get into the issue of who forced the other’s hand, advanced the so-called romance, and who would benefit the most from this sleaziness, but my legal budget is limited for even raising the possibility. Is Bradley such a slick operator? Was Gwynnnie suckered into a really nasty predicament, a marriage that would be a PR nightmare if she were to leave it after less than just five years?...
The Palchucks have been married for over a year, yet they don’t live together yet. Amidst rumors that the Palchuck marriage is on the rocks, Mr. Gwynnie Paltrow said it’s stronger than it’s ever been. At a recent teen drama, TV junket, with the Wall Street Journal, he said they make dinner together, and she makes him breakfast.
Mr. Gwynnie Paltrow said their blended family is like the Brady Bunch. He should know as much as anyone that the Bradys were not a product of divorce, but that Mr. and Mrs. Mike Brady were widow and widower. Those Brady kids weren’t being shuttled back and forth, unlike the Palchuck’s kids will have to be.
Their marriage begs the question, why did they ever leave their previous marriages? Gwynnie would be an upgrade path for Chadley, but could the same be said for Gwynnie, was Chadley an upgrade for her?
She had married a globally known rock star in Coldplay’s Chris Martin. True, transcontinental marriages between two entirely different cultures, American and British, could have snags. Did they have much, or anything, in common?
Yet, how was Chadley, a TV gag writer, a trading up for Gwynnie, an Oscar-winner? Chadley’s kids now have a part-time father. How has this effected Chadley’s anonymous ex-wife, and his kids now part-time relationship with their biological mom? What do they think of all this?
Is either Gwynnie, Chadley, or both, home-wreckers? Or were these homes already wrecked? The anonymous ex-wife cannot be asked for clarification, because she remains anonymous.
Or is Chadley a gold-digging philanderer; one piggybacking on Gwynnie’s fame, fortune, and reputation? Did Chadley just check in with a few excellent sexual performances to get entrée into Gwynnie’s World?
If I was sued for posting this, it could put me in the poorhouse, or even the jailhouse, but doesn’t anyone else have these vital concerns?...
The Gang of Four — Mr. and Mrs. Gwynnie Paltrow with Chris Martin and his Fifty Shades chick as backup — were seen at a photo op on an East Hampton beach. The posers struck a wide variety of poses including ones rarely seen in competition.
Gwynnie attempted the most difficult position for the afternoon. She pulled off an over the shoulder Chadley PDA smooch. The gang applauded that maneuver with high fives all around. This pose obviously took weeks of practice until the couple were ready for game day.
The four didn’t bother swimming which makes one wonder why they were at the beach in the first place. Yet with shutterbugs in abundance everywhere, the four were in high spirits. Photo ops are their only reason for stepping outside their mansions.
The only one of this set whose career isn’t heading off into the sunset is Gwynnie’s husband, Bradley Falchuck. His so-called skills as a TV gag writer for the teenage demographic are currently in vogue.
The Palchucks (they avoid the name, “Faltrows”) have been keeping it all in the family as Gwynnie’s only roles in the last decade have mostly been in his tepid, children’s sitcoms such as Glee, The Politician, and One-hit Wonders. (Gwynnie also appeared in Mordecai, which only screened in two theaters domestically.)
With Gwynnie’s omnipresent roles in super-hero nonsense, she will soon have more name recognition among teens than she will among adults. Gwynnie may claim that she’s a Mom, and she wants to be attached to kid-friendly shows. Yet there are plenty of mothers in Hollywood who haven’t been suckered into the boring, milquetoast, yet insanely lucrative, multiplex, Disney circuit. Gwynnie is fast gaining a reputation as the silver screen, baby-sitter of choice at malls.
Maybe her Mom, Blythe, had a better agent, or just better taste, or more uncompromising taste. Yet looking at how profitable Gwynnie’s collaborations with her husband have been, why would she ever stop being his house actress?
Bradley’s movies, and especially his television, shy away from the more adult topics, and all is told from a teen perspective. They will show as much as a seventeen year old is allowed to see. But don’t take my word for it, read what actual viewers had to say. I have only seen a few YouTubes of teen-phenom Glee, so my problem with it is that everyone involved was born much after I was. I cannot relate to any of this. Surprisingly enough, Bradley and Gwynnie can relate to every spoken line. Then one wonders if Bradley has piggybacked on his wife’s reputation.
The shows stay safe with the censors by limiting safe sex discussions to teen condom use. They also go in depth regarding: junk food binging, and omnipresent, food vending machines that steal teen’s hard-earned change; the abject shame of not driving the fastest car in the Senior class; the profound depression from not dating the cheerleading captain; not having a five-thousand-dollar wardrobe like all the lazy, rich kids have; and having weak, unpolished dancing skills that were never honed in a pricey dance studio.
Gwynnie is obviously very proud of her work in the teen drama series, or she wouldn’t have kept re-signing for another season, and she wouldn’t have married her husband, the writer.
Gwynnie now has a well-earned reputation as an Oscar-winner playing in kids’ fare. This seems to be a shame to me, that she’s apparently dumbing herself down career-wise, but she’s laughing all the way to the bank...
For many, many years, I was a professional wedding photographer. The pro that I was, I could tell when the marriages didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell. The facial expressions of the doomed were artificial, wooden, and without real affection for one another.
I would confirm my conclusions regarding their marriages’ chances by giving a quick hello on the phone with them. Were they satisfied with the album I produced? Some were near tears crying: “It was all a sham wedding, how could I not know we were headed for Splitsville?!” Yet I could have told them, just look at my wedding photos. I can see inside their souls with my Nikon. The lens never lies.
So it was with great interest that I reviewed Gwynnie’s marriage photos. I do not see this marriage lasting the expected fifty years, or even thirty, I’d say they are in divorce court within one year sorting out their twisted, Hollywood, sex pact before a magistrate of justice.
It was just reported that Gwynnie was knocking back shots of whiskey to even get up on the altar, and I had heard that Chadley was checking out the other chicks that showed up. He even got the phone number of Melania Trump who somehow RSVP’d for Gwynnie’s whiskey wedding. So either Gwynnie is deep into the cups, and belongs in program, or she just doesn’t belong with Chadley...
The Other Letter is world-renowned for fearless, take-no-prisoners, investigative journalism like this (and often including a bit of biting-sarcasm):
Gwynnie Paltrow will be devoting the rest of her professional life to acting in children’s television melodrama, ones written by her husband, Chadley. Her first show in this genre was Glee, and now she’s premiering in The Politican. In fact, she was just seen with her squad in East Hampton, Long Island as the teen epic was previewed.
The second, like the first, is about high school, and both were written by her husband, Chadley. Number two chronicles a seven-year-old, political prodigy who declares to the world that he’ll be President of the United States. But first he must navigate the even more hostile terrain of Saint Sebastian High School (note Christian traditions honored). Chadley just signed to make upper eight-figures, and you can see why with this outing.
I’m sure Mr. And Mrs. Gwynnie Paltrow will be taking home Emmy bronze for their latest children’s special. Are they given the benefit of the doubt at awards time in light of having such incredibly strong name recognition with their Paltrow and Ryan Murphy brand? Or is this work easily on a par with The Mary Tyler Moore Show and All in the Family? (Murphy is the producing genius behind your favorites such as: Glee, American Crime Story, American Horror Story, and American Wife-stealer Story.)
To satisfy her new demographic, we’ve heard that next up for the golden-haired, Oscar-winner is being a regular on Sesame Street. Here she will befriend the Cookie Monster to gain entré into the child, dieting space which Goop will then exploit...
Here’s something I never knew: Gwynnie Paltrow flies coach in regular, commercial airlines. She has said that she really enjoys mingling with the hoi polloi. These are her real fans, the ones with which she feels so tight, and has the most enduring bond.
These little, on-board chats are where Gwynnie gains oh-so-invaluable marketing intel, and acquires the pulse of the marketplace for both her movies and for her lifestyle-marketer, Goop.
So when the pilot turns off the seat belt sign on your next coast-to-coast, you may just run into Gwyneth Paltrow in your 747’s cabin.
“Hey, you won’t believe this. Look three rows back. That’s Gwyneth Paltrow! That dress you bought me three years ago of hers, the one that wouldn’t fit Twiggy? Get her to accept a return...”
Gwynnie, in conjunction with her husband, teleplay writer, Chadley Wonder-bred, will be establishing a new foundation entitled Let’s put Pen to Paper, Kids. Calling on the inestimable talents of Glee writer, Chadley, the Foundation will engage youngsters in writing pieces for the New York Times and Miramax (now defunct, but still accepting manuscripts).
Gwynnie is in overdrive working on the Foundation Proposal to appear in the glass-enclosed, display area at the Bridgehampton Polo Marathon and Exhibition Space. For Chadley’s part, he is preparing writing samples to show the teens what exactly a writer does, and how Glee was such a valuable part of their lives, before its painful and untimely cancellation halfway through its 2nd season...
My readers have often asked me: “How do you know super-star, super-chic, celebrities like Gwynnie?” You might not believe me, but we’re both off-road, trail-riding enthusiasts. I ride a Husqvarna Super-Comp 750cc with touring farings (unusual for the trail, but so be it), and she rides a pink Triumph 550cc, Enduro-Sport.
We hit it off at competitions. These days, every time she’s in town, she stops by for burgers and bratwurst, and I tune her bike for her.
This may look like a mountain cliff to anyone else, but to Gwynnie and myself, off-road-riding like this is just the sport we love, and grew up with — it’s in our blood. (Gwynnie and me always ride with our helmets on. You should, too...)
Anyone, anywhere, with a connection to the outside world, knows of Gwyneth Paltrow, and her magnetic personality. Yet magnets can have one of two forces: they can attract, or they can repel. Gwynnie seems to do both, in fairly equal proportions.
Her business empire (if that’s not being too generous) is centered around her personality, because to guys at least, or at least to this guy, her Goop catalog is unwanted novelty gifts, priced at her Hollywood friends’ price points. But Goop has been valued at $250 million, and it’s not due to the quality and lack of affordability of her sex toys.
It’s because she projects being relatable, energetic, and personable. So for those who hold her in complete contempt, just remember that a large contingent holds her in the exact opposite, in the greatest regard, and it shows on the Goop income statement...
Gwynnie recounted this story to me over an interesting combo of lobster salad and Count Chocula cereal that she prepared for me. (Find the recipe on Gwynnie’s Goop.)
“Yeah, I returned my Oscar. Why? After I won it, we had a celebratory dinner. You know, at that fabulous French bistro, La Grande Parisienne? Such rich food for every course, and you gotta bring a Macy’s bag to sneak out the unlimited croissants.
“But anyhow, back to my story. I’m telling mom that she won a cheap Tony. Then I tell dad he won a nothing Emmy. So I pull my Oscar out of my purse and put it in the middle of the table, and tell them: I got myself this Oscar beaut, and both of you never ever will.
“Well, dad got miffed at my pride. He said I was acting like an a-hole since I won Oscar gold. I was ashamed, but I was much more PO’ed at my father for overstepping his bounds.
Anyhow, he said I had to return it, because it had gotten to my head. The term he used to describe my metamorphosis was that I’d become a quote-unquote, ‘freak of nature.’
“Anyhow, today it’s in the basement of the Museum of the World of Oscar in its Oscar returns department. I visit it a few times a year to remind me of where I’ve been, and where I’m going.
“I bring my betrothed, Chadley, along to show him what a powerhouse I am in Hollywood, and in the business world. The Oscar is my proof that he’s nothing, but on the other hand, look at how far I’ve gotten. Life is fabulous at the top.
“Anyhow, I even put my own family to shame with my astounding, I mean, astounding talents. Hey, I even speak French...”
Gwynnie has an “intimacy coach.” On the planet where I call home, intimacy is navigated by intuition, we do not require coaching. Spill your guts, and you got intimacy. Her Hollywood crowd sounds so incredibly well-mannered though, and they create then negotiate emotional minefields every day, that any false step might be one leading to being eternally ostracized.
Yet, this coaching may have much more to do with her new step family. From what I have gleaned in news reports, the bonding is not taking entirely. In other words, the Chadley moppets are like: “I want my real Mom, not Gwynnie, the fake Mom. This Mom makes food that the dog won’t even eat.” So Gwynnie is dealing with this, her career as an actress, her preferred career as a CEO, and any guy on the side who doesn’t get in the way...
I was gob smacked to learn that Moses, the male heir of the Paltrow clan, isn’t readying himself for his role as financial chief at Amalgamated Goop. Instead he wastes away his life with a joystick playing video games, specifically one known as Fortnite.
He could be kicking around the soccer ball. He could be practicing the drums which is always a babe magnet. He could even be reading, say, manga graphic novels. Instead he will only be known as that kid in the eighth grade who made super-punk levels in Fortnite.
Her oldest, Apple, has aspirations to be the first Paltrow astrophysicist if she would only stop posting Snapchat videos for one second. Like her mom, her daughter loves gossiping about boys all day, hoping to land the quarterback of the football team, as if that was ever in doubt.
Gwynnie is firmly ensconced in the leisure class as well. She spends most days at the beauty or massage parlor. Her management style at Goop, the corporation she founded, is hands-off. Her function initially was to agree on the drapes in headquarters, but now she only approves new hires, a decision based solely on whether or not they’ll look good on corporate group photographs...
Spider-Man: Homecoming costarred Gwyneth Paltrow. It grossed nearly a billion dollars, it was made two years ago, and Gwynnie has no recollection of ever being in it. The premises of these super hero movies are so generic and so indistinct from one another, who can blame her for her amnesia?
This is invariably the plot progression: Curtain rises. Opening credits roll amidst bloody, global, CGI combat. Superhero is called into action against super-villain. Superhero consults mentor about best way to kill super-villain (light saber, nuclear option, or an entirely new invention the “team” has been considering). Threshold to adventure guarded by shadowy figure.
Love interest (Gwyneth Paltrow) tells superhero that it’s obviously too dangerous to throw down the gauntlet and fight. The ante is raised sky-high when the love interest tells the superhero not to fight, or their romance is history.
Superhero leaves her anyhow, to fight for superhero, world dominance which happens regardless. Superhero wins, but it takes all he’s got. Curtain falls. Closing credits roll with humorous out takes (superhero, now out of costume, is tossed into wrap-party, swimming pool by villain, also out of costume)...
Gwynnie gets lots of flack because she has the “poor, little, rich girl syndrome,” she was born into Hollywood royalty. Her Mom is Tony-winner, Blythe Danner, and her Dad, Bruce Paltrow, was a big-league, television and movie producer. More than anyone listed on this Pantheon though, she has faced hardship.
Gwynnie’s Dad passed on when she was thirty-years-old. Her first marriage failed, although strangely enough, it was an unbelievably amicable divorce. Both her teenage kids, Apple and Moses, did have difficulties initially.
Most recently, her second marriage does not seem built on a granite foundation. At the Met Gala, only Gwyneth attended. True, there was a promotion with a model, and Chadley would have been a third wheel, but still he has no right to her, only I do...
Now that I have made it big as a Hollywood screen-writer, I feel it’s time to give back, so I volunteer at the South Central soup kitchen.
And what do you know, I fed Gwynnie a warm kielbasa dinner one day. We talked, and I prepared her for the rocky road ahead, given her product liability nightmares. This is a paraphrasing of the Salvation Army Guidebook for Surviving Homelessness, one that all the volunteers are expected to memorize and impart on those needing assistance...
Gwynnie, please, pay attention. Now is the time to make sure the heater in your car is in excellent working order. Because this is where you will soon be living.
Start scouring thrift shops for clothes without stains. Forget fashion. You’re in survival mode now. While you’re at the thrift shop find yourself a hot plate, and a can opener. Because for a few days a month you’ll be living in a welfare motel, and you will need to eat canned everything.
Make sure food pantries remember who you were so you’ll get choice entrees. Don’t hesitate showing thigh to whomever is in charge, be it priest or rabbi or volunteer. This way you’ll get quality items as well as desirable put asides.
If the clergy member wants sex you have to please him or her because your children’s nutrition depends on it. You may think this is the Great Depression which is a good reference point, because for you it is.
And all this because you sold toxic dosages of body-accumulating vitamin A. Oh, well...
For every four weeks of work, all Goop employees get time off for a professionally-guided, company-financed, karma reevaluation holiday.
(I received an email from Her Goopiness, Madame Gwynnie, about the irreverence shown her corporate workforce. She threatened me with legal action if I didn’t lay off her important scientific work. I was hurt, but I soldiered on, and now I will only say positive things about Gwynnie, Goop, her workforce, and the working conditions over in Oakland...)
The direct messaging on Gwynnie’s Instagram is hack-able. Pressing the Power Button, while you press the Home Button, brings up an input pop-up. Enter a five-digit zip code, which is based on her current location, and you’re in. Anyhow, I line-sniffed these messages:
“Chadley, I’ll need you to kiss me on the red carpet... Which one? I did a cameo again in some kids movie. I forget which one. I need a passionate embrace. One minute of paparazzi... You have polo? Then I’ll take your kids, Saturday... Sure, I’ll sleep over Friday. Come on, it’s no problem at all. Your family and you mean so much to me. Is it a deal?...”
“Yes, Jeff, then we’re set for Saint Tropez on your effing Prime yacht. I am so excited... A lap dance? For Saint Tropez, you get anything you want, and I mean anything. Which of my girlfriends did you want as relief?...
“Don’t worry about Chadley. He means nothing to me. It’s just you and me now, Jeff, but it’s always been you. I don’t need to tell you that billionaires make me tremble down to my core...
“Why were Chadley and me making out on the red carpet? This is how I sell sex toys on Goop, Jeff, shows I still got my mojo. Chadley is a child, you’re my silver fox... Hello?! Where’d he go?! NO!!!...”
Anyone who follows the life of Gwyneth Paltrow knows that she is very precise and meticulous. Yet did you also know that she keeps a three-ring binder entitled, Eulogies for Friends, Family, and Acquaintances. Each eulogy is updated as new events occur.
While she refuses to divulge any eulogy before “that fateful day,” she did offer “an amusing anecdote” on Martha Stewart’s eulogy. While the two are not exactly the best of friends, Gwynnie had this to say:
“We went to a White House dinner once, and Martha drank far too much. I was embarrassed to even be near her, and Secret Service did have to escort her out of the West Wing Dining Hall.
“As Martha was leaving the White House, she projectile vomited into Barack Obama’s face. The pandemonium was so intense, with the Secret Service running to and fro thinking Martha was a terrorist, and White House staff trying to clean off Barack’s face.
“Because the Sultan of Brunei was there, we had an international incident on our hands, one of escalating magnitude, as Martha could not keep down her gluttonous portions. I will always remember you for this, Martha, may you rest in peace...”
Gwynnie’s latest New York Times Famous Author Bestseller is entitled: Shopping Be Not Proud. Subtitled: Intimate Stories of Every Retail Magnate that only Gwyneth Paltrow Can Tell.
“Chapter One: Jeff Bezos was such an Amazonian Superman that he ignited a fire in my loins I would never extinguish. Jeff, as I call him, is a billionaire by the way. We were both still married when we canoodled, but I just could never resist an incredibly wealthy Adonis. For his part, he said “an Oscar-winner had his interest.”
“We were talking about forever, but he left me as soon as a soufflé I prepared for him couldn’t stay up. Jeff, honey, sir — okay, you liked to be called master. Master, if you’re out there, your soufflé will stay up next time. I promise. My girlfriends will help with the soufflé.
“He used to call me his prime piece of ass, like Amazon Prime, and prime shipping, but I’m his prime piece of ass. The words still fall trippingly from my tongue. That superman is so adorably inventive with complimentary phrases. I’m not just a piece of ass, but a prime one. I get chills just saying that. Hear that, Jeff, er, master? When you called me a prime piece of ass, it gave me chills.
“Emperor Bezos (another pet name I had for him), has the Midas touch, he can turn water into gold. Amazon is a mail order catalog business just like Sears Roebuck was at the turn of the Twentieth Century. Emperor Bezos took that and made it the biggest selling business on this Earth. Of course, he added e-commerce to his site, but anyone can do that.
“That is genius, my friends, taking a nothing idea and getting filthy rich from it. I am passionately in love with my dominant superman, Jeff Bezos. Money, honey, Jeff, you don’t know how much you, and your money, turn me on...”
Reese “Roseanne” Witherspoon
(Photograph by Tabercil from the 2014 TIFF)
For all anyone outside of the Witherspoon family knows, Reese’s husband may have died a few years prior. No one knows if any of the Pantheon husbands are even alive, because they rarely hang out with their wives in public.
They have the strangest, non-committed marriages. Why would they ever get married, if they don’t adore one another, and don’t want to spend every waking minute together?...
Reese Witherspoon was removed from an Other Pantheon because of her close ties with Oprah Winfrey. Oprah was the one who said “Hope lives” after Trump was inaugurated. Winfrey also allowed those who testified for Michael Jackson in court, but against him on Oprah, to promote their new movie.
In Reese’s moving, yet a bit rambling, excerpted, 87-page attempt to get back into the Pantheon, she claimed that Oprah was just a, and we’ll quote:
“...a ton of cocoa blubber...[and that] The Other Letter welcoming a dwarf such as myself into the Pantheon has made my lilliputian burden that much lighter to bear...You are a national treasure, Other, more so than even Streep, of whom I agree with you, she does overact in her movies...
“Put me back on your Pantheon, and I’ll even show you my world class collection of Elvis memorabilia, including his headband and cape from Viva Las Vegas! It is in mint, I mean mint condition. I was at an Elvis swap meet just last November, and I scored these beauties.
They’re insured for over $10,000, but they’re priceless, just priceless. Other, these are museum quality, easy. Where is Elvis when you need him? You know what I’m saying?
“I’m up for almost every role in Hollywood where they need a kid who has the acting chops of an adult. As a dwarf, I can play children, I regularly get offered these parts. I even tell my agent to underestimate my height. I’m five-foot-one, but I tell William Morris to say I’m four-foot-seven. I mean every actress overestimates her bust measurement, why can’t I fudge my height a little?
“Quentin had called my agent just last week. He’s remaking The Sound of Music, and I’m up for Liesl. I’m getting down the method acting for her now: ‘I am sixteen, going on seventeen, la, la, la.’ I cannot wait. This is a plum dwarf role, in a long line of plum dwarf roles I’ve played. Playing Liesl? This is every actress’ dream come true!!
“Quentin said he’ll be playing up the carnage side of The Sound of Music. You know, when the Nazis invade wherever the Hell it is they invade.
“Anyhow, I really admire Quentin for his use of bloodshed to advance the narrative. Mister Tarantino told me that Liesl will be toting a semi-automatic rifle for her entire performance. I’ve got my finale down cold: “The hills are alive with the sound of rat-tat-tat.” I’ll be singing it, because the Julie Andrews role doesn’t make it past the First Act.
“In the Swiss Alps, she dies in a friendly fire incident, one related to the war effort. You know when they escape at the Von Trapp performance near the end? In Quentin’s version, there is no escape. Bodies laying everywhere bleeding in the theater. Talk about drama. Isn’t that a fascinating use of artistic license? Quentin is a genius.
“I’m getting a little tired of playing characters where they strap me up on stilts like with Kiss boots (I had them play at my kids’ birthday party), or Elton John boots. You know, from his early days. Or they’ll say, ‘We can’t use a dwarf, Reese, we’re sorry.’ But I’m not breaking my ankle for any movie anyhow.
“Give me a shorty role, and I am one happy girl. Playing Roseanne Cash, they had me on stilts. Shh, I’m not authorized to discuss my height prep for Roseanne. But that’s why I stopped auditioning for adult parts, my podiatrist said I had to avoid more sprained ankles, or I wouldn’t be able to stand up without crutches.
“I’m Hollywood’s go-to for adults playing kids. Kids can’t remember their lines for beans anyhow. I’ll tell you though, I’m really looking forward to Quentin’s Sound of Music. They just need to sit me in the makeup trailer a little longer so I look like a teen, or even a tween. Shoot, to be getting any parts at forty-three! I’d play a newborn.
“And if you look at what I can do, and what I’ve done, my nearest midget competitors in the history of Hollywood were the Munchkins from the Wizard of Oz. And did they win Oscar gold? Of course not, they were untrained dwarves, but I am a supremely-trained dwarf. I took the all-time biggest dwarves to the mat — no pun intended.
“Other, how’s that for success in Hollywood? I’m a legend among midgets. I am so worthy of inclusion in your Pantheon, so worthy. Don’t disappoint me, I can get you a job in Hollywood. We all started in craft services, can you flip soy-burgers?...”
“Famous” Kate Hudson
Kate received her Oscar nomination for Almost Famous, don’t call me to the mat for calling her “Almost” Kate Hudson.
Dream girl Kate Hudson didn’t miss a beat in her Oscar-nom, yet she only received the Academy Award finalists, not the Oscar (Marcia Gay Harden won in 2000 for Pollock).
The role of super-groupie-hipster Penny Lane was made for Kate, in part because of her Rock ’n Roll lifestyle, great looks, and kind nature. In many of her movies since though, critics had little to say except that even her beautiful, warming sunshine was not enough to brighten these screenplays’s dismal prospects.
Ms. Hudson carries herself as someone older might, yet she is only a youthful-looking 40 years old. She is famous friends with Gwyneth Paltrow.
Kate has appeared on Glee as Cassandra July, famed dance instructor at the occasionally celebrated New York Academy of the Dramatic Arts.
Ms. Hudson is a devout Buddhist, as is her Mom, Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-in alumna Goldie Hawn — and just like her Mom, she is much smarter than she appears to be.
Sofía “I’m Up Here” Vergara
(Peter | © 2012 American Broadcasting Companies, Inc.)
Sofía Vergara had planned on a career in dentistry, and was two semesters shy from completing her undergraduate degree, when a photog noticed her on a beach in her native Columbia. This led to modeling work, and then to co-hosting Fuera de serie (or Out of the Ordinary), a travel series where Sofia reported back from exotic locales all around the globe. This show, and her beautiful, effervescent personality, made her a huge hit in the Univisión Latin American television market.
Because of turmoil in her homeland, she hoped for a better life in America, so she moved to Miami. (Her older brother was murdered during a kidnap attempt in 1998; and in 2011, her younger brother was deported back to Columbia.)
Ms. Vergara has appeared in several movies and television shows — both English and Spanish-language — but the vehicle that really moved her show business career into high gear was Modern Family.
For her Modern Family role alone, Ms. Vergara earned four Golden Globes, four Primetime Emmys, and seven Screen Actors Guild Awards. The financial periodical Forbes ranks Sofia as the highest earning actor on United States television.
Sofia appeared with Reese Witherspoon in Don’t Mess with Texas about a prisoner and a police officer on the run. Sofia has great, sexy dance moves you would never see North of the border.
Jessica “The Tycoon” Alba
Jessica Alba is the cutie-pie with the absolutely adorable, megawatt smile. Considering Jessica has been in 50 movies in her 33 years, she may well be one of the hardest working women in all of show business. Ms. Alba chooses to work in the most unusual films. She has been in Machete, and its sequel Machete Kills. She appeared in It Has Begun: Bananapocalypse, and had a leading role in more mainstream films like Little Fockers.
Ms. Alba recently wrapped up a sequel to Sin City entitled Sin City: A Dame to Kill For. With the redux, Jessica reprised her role as Nancy, but unlike the very well-received original, the next edition met with lukewarm reviews. The reason it was even made is because Hollywood would much rather bank on remaking a successful, known quantity, than take risks on anything new yet unproven. Watching the sequel, one got the sense that the director behind the second installment of the franchise, one ten years in the making, spent much more time on visual design than spent time rewriting the script — assuming the premise had any more life in it, and it may not have.
While Jessica’s biggest money-makers are in the sci-fi, action-thriller genres, including Fantastic Four, and Fantastic 4: Rise of the Silver Surfer, one readily gets the sense that she possesses the intellect to do much better than appear in those simple fantasy roles, or crime-thriller ones like Awake or The Killer Inside Me. In fact, Ms. Alba studied acting with William H. Macy and his wife, Felicity Huffman (the ones who were nailed in an admissions sting), at the Atlantic Theater Company, one developed by Macy and David Mamet, the Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright.
An avid swimmer and PADI-certified scuba-diver, Jessica was well-suited for the part of Maya on the television series Flipper. Sky Angel, as IMDB Pro lists her alias, elevated her game a notch or two playing Max Guevera in the TV series Dark Angel, a role which won her the Golden Globe.
Ms. Alba co-founded The Honest Company, a distributor of 100% natural home and baby products. The company fulfilled an unmet need in Jessica as she has two young girls, and she found it difficult to find products to care for them that were non-toxic. The company floated an initial public offering expected to raise $1 billion in corporation capital for Jessica, and the two other co-founders, as well as an investment consortium.
Albz — she definitely has interesting nicknames — identified with feminism by the age of five. While her family is very conservative, she was always the opposite. Ms. Alba broke ranks from the Church after she was hit on continually, and the youth pastor said it was because she was dressing provocatively when she knew she wasn’t. He said that the unwelcome advances were her fault, that she was coming on to these leches, and that she had to redeem herself for her past. Jessica saw the weak roles women played in the Bible, and this further alienated her from Christianity.
Ms. Alba is regularly included on listings of the most desirable, hottest, and sexiest women of People, FHM, GQ, Empire, and Maxim magazines. Directors want her to be nude in their films, but she has a no-nudity clause inserted in all of her contracts. Unlike many of her peers, Jessica has also made it very clear she will never sleep with anyone to advance her career.
Besides all this, Jessica gives as much of her time and energy as she can to Habitat for Humanity, environmental causes, AIDS prevention, and women’s and gay rights promotion and recognition.
“Softspoken” Maggie Gyllenhaal
(Still from The Dark Knight
DC Comics, Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc. © 2008
Seen here and elsewhere, Maggie
possesses an irresistible and charming glow.)
Maggie seems so endearing and sweet, but she’s married as the day is long, so we won’t be putting any moves on her...
Sadly, Maggie Gyllenhaal is not getting all the parts she very richly deserves. While obviously a looker herself, Ms. Gyllenhaal is so much more than just the eye candy seen of every other starlet. As a rule, Hollywood people don’t have degrees. Maggie is brilliant, she has an Ivy League sheepsking from Columbia University. An Ivy Leaguer and an Academy Award nominee for Crazy Heart, plus she was nominated for Golden Globe awards, for Sherrybaby and Secretary.
She may be best known for her very sexual portrayal of submissive Lee Holloway in Secretary. Besides her performance, Maggie can also be credited for not worrying about what others think of her...
One of Maggie’s favorite turns is playing the lead in a meaningful, and timely, mini-series from the British Broadcasting Corporation (the BBC) called, The Honourable Woman. Ms. Gyllenhaal portrays Nessa Stein, daughter of an Israeli arms dealer who ultimately turns the destructive family business into one supporting communication infrastructure between the Arabs and the Israelis...
And Ms. Gyllenhaal won the Golden Globe for her tour de force, bravura performance as Nessa. That was her first Golden Globe win, and the hope here is that this will more doors for Maggie.
Maggie has a soft, honey-sweet, and beautiful speaking voice. If I was Ms. Gyllenhaal’s agent, I would be lining up voice work for her.
With remarkable candor, Ms. Gyllenhaal discusses being a new mother on the Chelsea Lately show.
Kirsten “Turn-on” Dunst
(Promotional still from On Becoming a God in Central Florida)
There’s a bit of an X-rated optical illusion in play below...
I’ve seen several of these Pantheon women (Kirsten seems to me like one, Gwynnie seems like another), and who they get saddled with as marital partners — along with dealing with excess baggage like offspring. (Offspring aren’t excess baggage unless they are accidents, as they seem to be in some cases here.)
Saddled is probably the wrong term, but an unhappy marriage — especially one where their kids may not be healthy because of constant fighting — is a major burden that sucks the life right of, well, life.
I don’t know any of these women, or their carefully-chosen spouses, but they do seem to have really settled. They’ve married down. They marry much younger guys, they marry far less successful guys. There is no point in having these husbands tag along on to the red carpet with these women, their “better halves” don’t have any star power.
It seems like there’s a lull in their career, and they hook up with the next acceptable candidate for life-long companionship that comes along. They may be ignored by their industry, and shut out at awards ceremonies, so they do the equivalent of slumming it. As they say: Marry in haste, repent at leisure...
Kirsten’s star is on the rise though. She’s top-billed in On Becoming a God in Central Florida. Ms. Dunst was most recently on the Sirius Radio Network where she lamented the lack of appreciation she has gotten for all her great work.
At Other Letter, we know the real reason Kirsten hasn’t been getting the kudos she deserves — her boobs are too big to be taken seriously by Hollywood. To casting agents, she’s got a corporation up front, and this corporation says porn star is her real calling. Big knockers are not taken seriously when the casting director is looking to fill a Grace Kelly-esque part.
Kirsten has said that: “My boobs precede my reputation wherever I go, I can’t help it, they do. They intoxicate the audience, but they’re just boobies, you know what I’m saying? So I’m typecast as the flirty sex pot. If everyone will just see around them for once, I’d start taking home awards trophies. I just bet I’d be taking home gold by now...”
Kirsten was at Coachella, except she spent some time at Churchella. That’s some goofiness her manager pulled on her, we’re pretty sure: “Go to Churchella, Kirsten, improve your movie demographics with people who spend all day praying for forgiveness. You’re not getting the roles you deserve, Kirsten, spend Sundays at Mass chatting up the congregation. Work your fan base.”
Managers like to suggest Church chat to their clients, unless there’s a new Kirsten, one who loves Jesus the Christ. It’s just too sad to contemplate.
Amanda “Linda” Seyfried
(© Nine Lives, LLC.
Nine Lives still)
Amanda had quite a health scare at the age of nineteen. She was absolutely certain she had a brain tumor, and that it was going to kill her. She was diagnosed with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder and depression.
Until the age of seventeen, Amanda took classical singing lessons. This prepared her for the role of Cosette in the 2012 film adaptation of Les Misérables. Ms. Seyfried can sing in perfect pitch, just listen to how she sings and plays guitar on the Sixties classic, Little Red Riding Hood. Amanda also has Bette Davis Eyes.
Amanda lives life on her own terms, and possesses quite the intellect. She studied meteorology for a spell, even hoping to make it as a career before people noticed her acting abilities. Ms. Seyfried is also fascinated with taxidermy, and she has several museum-quality specimens — yes, taxidermy.
Katy “Tay’s Understudy” Perry
Does Snow White have to be a blond?
Katy is being sued for $150,000 because she posted a photo onto her Instagram account of herself taken by someone else. She was decked out in a Halloween costume.
The implication is that Katy pocketed $150k in Katy-traffic by not offering attribution — except she’s not selling anything. Then did Ms. Perry contribute $150k to her bottom line by posting this photo? How on Earth did they ever arrive at that $150k figure?
Is it because she’s well-off, so she can be soaked?...
Some of her best songs include: Wide Awake, Waking Up in Vegas, Roar, Firework, Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F.), California Gurls, and I Kissed a Girl.
Given her writing and performing interests, it’s surprising that her parents are both Pentecostal ministers. Katy began her career singing California Gospel and initially had limited exposure to secular, non-religious music. The next genre in her musical evolution was country compositions. Again, a far cry from what she sings today.
Katy is not from money, and her family struggled for awhile when she was young. Unlike many of her peers, she has done significant charity work, specifically relief efforts in poverty-stricken Madagascar with UNICEF.
Taylor “Sexy Songstress” Swift
Taylor was always a songstress, although now she can add sex pot to her curriculum vitae. She went from average-looking to va-va-voom, gorgeous in three years. I say it’s hair coloring — and getting Kanye West and Kim Kardashian, the K-creeps, off of her back.
By the way, Kim, in conjunction with her good friend, Donald Trump, will be entering the political sphere with the launching of her yearlong, Isn’t War Wrong?!!! Campaign. Not to be outdone, Kanye will be crusading against bad, national vibes with his Let’s do it for Donald and Baby Jesus movement.
(Facebook account of Taylor Swift
All Rights Reserved, © 2019, Taylor Swift)
This is bosomy Taylor Swift after she stopped starving herself. She filled out in all the right places. I posted the photo linked above when Taylor still looked like a camp survivor, so I get all the credit for her transformation.
Girls, your results may vary. You could make Krispy Kreme part of your routine, and just as easily become a Kim Kardashian double wide, instead of a double-D.
If you ever wondered why Taylor Swift is the biggest name in popular music, this is why: She has cornered the market on attractiveness, being insightful, and she holds title to unsullied sweetness and goodness. Yet she never, ever, sounds outdated. Taylor is one hipster of a chick.
Taylor Swift just released her holiday, latest, greatest, Christmas Tree Farm. Via home movies from when she was a youngster, the video recounts her storybook upbringing in rural Pennsylvania as the farmer’s daughter.
Yet, there is much more to the story as recounted by her now forgotten sister, Melodie. The christmas tree farm was deeply in debt, and unless Taylor pulled her weight as a twelve-year-old, Dad Swift would have to torch the christmas trees to collect insurance loot. Taylor begged her dad not to set the farm aflame, because birds nested in the trees, and her cherished cats loved to eat the birds.
The reason that the farm was failing was because it was situated on I-80 by Exit 259 - Scranton. There aren’t any christmas tree shoppers by Exit 259, there are only truckers, and the truckers were much more interested in Taylor, than they were in buying christmas trees.
Mom and Dad Swift would drag Taylor down to the Scranton Waffle House where she would busk for tips. On a really good day, Taylor would bring home three dollars, and on a bad day, under a dollar. Poppa Swift kept reminding Taylor, that it was either eight hours a day of this, or the whole family was out on the street.
It wasn’t until Taylor rushed the stage at a Willie Nelson concert, her guitar in hand, that Nashville royalty finally took notice. She was escorted backstage, where Willie heard her play, I’m just a Southern Girl at Heart, and he was hooked. The rest is country and western genre, young adult demographic, history...
Hi, I’m Taylor. My breasts are now larger, and I write kickin’ tunes. How about I pencil you in for next weekend, and we’ll see if we can make sparks fly. Do we have a deal? Hmm?...
The value of any good is determined by how much value was added by each factor of the supply chain. In English, did Scooter and Scott add any value here to lay claim to Taylor Swift’s work, or are they only Taylor’s leeches?
Did they help with lyrics, or stage dance moves? Were the dynamic duo tapping on tambourine until Ms. Swift nailed Lover? Did Scooter and Scott provide syncopation with bongo accompaniment? Did they offer guitar work as session musicians? I bet they are master pianists on a par with Billy Joel. I bet. Either that, or the Scooter and Scott twins, composed the arrangements of Taylor’s music, which is where the big money is.
Okay, do we know anything about Scott and Scooter’s musical chops? How did they help Taylor get the sound down on all those masters that they say are theirs? Do the owners of Taylor’s work know anything about creating music?
Actually, they know nothing about music composition or performance, yet they own the Taylor Swift Show, they pocketed her entire catalog. They are only well-heeled, wheeling-dealing, executives.
Scooter’s pleading his complete innocence, without giving any details about why we should believe him. He sounds like he’s giving a national political convention speech about goodness and virtue. I almost expect balloons to fall from the ceiling, and the “Vote For Scooter!!!” signs to appear in profusion.
Is he a philanthropist, a do-gooder, one only looking out for Taylor’s best interests? Or is he a manipulative son-of-a-bitch, one looking to screw her out of her well-deserved royalty checks?
Then, is Taylor’s unusually weak Grammys nominations for Lover, a consequence of a woman sticking up for her own interests? Who needs uppity girls in popular music anyhow? Hmm? The Grammys can rape anyone they please, that’s the function of an industry trade show, just ask Oscar...
Two quick notes about Taylor’s predicament with her former management.
First, they are looking to make the maximum profit off of Ms. Swift’s work, when they did nothing to create it. No one wants to drag the father of Marxism, Karl Marx, into any of this, but it’s still his classic problem here of the work being done solely by the workers, but the factory owned by the fat-cat owners, who get all the profits.
Second, how Scooter has a tenable position over Taylor’s work at all says negative things about the acumen of her management team. Taylor regularly creates unusually, lucrative albums, it astounds that she didn’t have iron-clad financial protections.
(Scooter is the villain here. Scooter is the name he goes by, and even though that sounds like the nickname of a child, he’s over twenty years old.)
Team Tay seems like they somehow didn’t see this coming, even though she must have the most high-end financial experts available. Unless Scooter was supposed to protect her in the first place, and he pulled off a fine-print rape.
Blake Shelton is hitting on Taylor. Everyone wants to get on board the Swift Fantasy Train. First, it was Keith Urban drooling over her, or at least, being strangely and unusually complimentary.
Now, Shelton is saying how much he loves listening to the way she thinks. Shelton is Gwen Stefani’s guy, or so we thought, just as we thought Urban was Nikky Kidman’s.
Blake, just wait and see, when I’m a judge on The Voice — or was it, American Idol — she will only give me the time of day, and not to any Southern, Baby-Jesus-lovin’, Holy-rolling, Bible-thumper...
We’ve all seen how Taylor breaks down barriers between people. With an effortless grace, she has become the global good will ambassador. She will bring this planet to a brighter place, and she will soon be responsible for the new world order.
How can one woman accomplish so much? Well, I foresee Taylor taking on increasing responsibilities as first a diplomat, and then a world leader such as U.S. President.
Or perhaps as France’s President, because she best understands the French imperative of romance, kindness, and living life to the fullest.
No pressure Taylor, but we’re counting on you to straighten out this planet. It’s all up to you, and your good graces, to save us all, O’ Princess!
Andrea Gardner Swift, the Mom who created Taylor, has cancer that was in remission, but unfortunately, it has returned. This is the reason why Taylor will only be playing two venues Stateside for her Lover tour.
As the ever-concerned daughter, she wants to be around for any eventuality, and it would be exceedingly difficult to meet the demands of a fifty-city tour when your thoughts are always with your Mom.
I have already told Taylor that I’m here for her, I can even mow her lawn if she’s flying Mom into the Mayo Clinic (well, not into it, to a nearby airstrip).
Given a blogger’s general standard of living, I am really quite handy with landscaping, and general home maintenance. Although I would still recommend a plumber or electrician for more complicated work, I’m not yet licensed for those trades...
I’m working with Taylor Swift in an advisory capacity for her next album. Taylor, you need to write one re deciding about partaking of bestiality without relying on Leviticus of the Bible. Call it: It’s up to You (If You Wanna Sleep with Sheep). Think, Taylor, you can open stadium shows with this pop potency.
Taylor and me are engaged to be engaged!... Thank you, thank you very much! She wanted to wait a few months before taking the plunge because of our age differences. She’s 29 and I’m 36, so her management needed to be absolutely certain that a blogger was the one for her — and after many top-level management meetings they decided I am definitely the one!
She also has to clear all this with her PR department. They have to produce videos to prepare her public and the world at large for our impending nuptials.
In the next few weeks, expect to see Youtubes of Taylor and me having the times of our lives water-skiing, tobogganing, and having fun at various, elite parties. Socials already lined up include: the monthly bash over at Gwynnie’s where she’s Celebrating the Fertility Goddess; Nikky’s Bonfire Ode to Married Life; and Princess Kate’s Snooty Upper Crust Jubilee of Elitist Royalty.
Also in the works, are wedding photos to be splashed on the covers of Time, People Magazine, Entertainment Weekly, and the New York Times. This is going to be so great...
Taylor did an interview where she said if any of her backup dancers touched the “goods,” she’d stop the show, and they’d be fired on the spot, mid-concert.
Shockingly, this is what actually happened at her VMA opening in 2017 as the head of her dance troupe copped a feel during her I Did Something Bad opening.
The show quickly switched to an interview clip of Kanye West giving a sermon on forgiveness, after a second clip of him receiving his divinity license from his Church of Jesus the Profit.
Taylor has been going behind my back to various events where she adds respectability to shows that have none. There was: the Get “Other Letter,” I ♥ Radio Takedown Classic; Saturday Night Live’s Tribute to Lorne’s Darkness; and most recently, Madonna’s We Need More Teens Preggers Spectacular.
If Taylor keeps it up, I will have to cancel our imprinted wedding invitations in pastel Lover hues (yes, we’re walking down the aisle together, no biggie). She begged me to get these, the ones we had ordered special from the print shop of the cognoscenti in Florence, Italy, the one with the ultra-exclusive, world-class clientele.
This is the same print shop which has been in business since 1358 AD, and who rely on aging monks to do the incredibly-detailed work, often relying on optics even advanced by today’s standards. There is a direct lineage between the original printers of the King James Bible, and this nondescript shop (without a sign or name) that has made wedding invitations for the Kennedys, the Napoleons, and the House of Windsor, among others.
The work is done only after a careful character assessment is performed. The monks look over the prospective customers for fifteen minutes over tea and biscotti. Payment is made in groceria from nearby street markets.
Joni Mitchell bowed out, too, in what would have been her final show. The Blue Angels will no longer be flying overhead as I kiss the bride. A Navy spokeswoman said they’re only doing air shows for important people like action-hero, Tom Cruise. Taylor, we may as well elope, this will be one, crummy wedding!
Ms. Swift made a guest, musical appearance on Saturday Night Live. She made watching that old warhorse of comedic TV worth watching.
Did Taylor ever nail the title song to her new album, Lover, and do so without any accompaniment. I always wondered if she had piano chops and she clearly does. The next song, False God, did include saxophone backup. False God was an interesting choice because it’s not a single from the album. It’s a B side. She really did a great job with it.
There wasn’t any tape loop nonsense. This was all her performing live. What’s more, she’s the writer or co-writer of all her songs. She has become a woman of truly exceptional talents.
After Taylor had her Lasik surgery done, I was so concerned that she would be cross-eyed, or even half-blind. As for other cosmetic work, she keeps the Botox to a minimum, and has only concentrated on extensive injections since the Reputation tour. Rumors that her body is entirely fillers and extenders, are entirely exaggerated, although her rump is hardened, and rubberized, silicone. I know, and it is.
If you’ve followed her career you’ve noticed that she went from average looking to absolutely gorgeous in three, short years. She’s breathtakingly beautiful now. Before, if you saw her in the mall, you wouldn’t give her a second look. She looked a bit scrawny back then.
She attended the SNL after party with her boyfriend, Joe Schmoe. This is her 207th male companion. As a parting shot for another scorched and burned romance, she’s writing a breakup song about her love life entitled: Why won’t a blogger enter my life?
Taylor maintains a virginal image but truth be told she’s slept with everyone in Nashville. In a typical, country and western, battle of wills, she lost her virginity to Hank Williams, Junior, aka Bocephus (now 70 years old).
Taylor wrote about the experience as a young filly in her tear-jerker, mega-hit, Shake Him Off. Ashley Judd also lost her virginity to Bocephus, but she never wrote a song about the experience, at least not that I’m aware...
Taylor Swift will be performing on Saturday Night Live. While I will almost always respect her viewpoint, I won’t here. Taylor is selling out, because SNL stole talent from, and in the process shut down, these vastly superior production companies: National Lampoon, Second City TV, and Mad TV.
The second reason is that they let Trump host twice in the run-up before the 2016 election, giving him a leg up into the White House. Taylor backed out of a concert engagement at an Australian horse racing venue, she should seriously consider doing the same here. She’s sleeping with the enemy.
Taylor did get back to me, and had this to say: “I really like the cast, and they’re so funny. I almost laughed once at their jokes. And questions about why I’m only playing two American venues with the Lover tour, are explained with the dire need to go on Lorne Michaels’ Trump Variety Hour.”
Given Taylor makes her living writing love songs, and not from being a political pundit, so I guess I’ll have to forgive her. This is what rookies do to your squad, they wreak havoc on it...
If a guest star steals the spotlight during a Taylor Swift concert, even going so far as taking Ms. Swift’s verses, Taylor has actually pushed them off the side of the stage. In stadium venues, this drop is at least ten feet down. Tay has said, “This is how they learn what is appropriate of a guest star.”
She elaborated: “I don’t fool around on tour. If a guest wants Taylor exposure, yet they don’t play by Taylor rules, they will face Taylor punishment. There can be no compromise. On tour, I’m a different woman, forget that cuddly, kitten crap. I mean business. I lay down the law. I am only here to win...”
Not only does Taylor sing of youthful troubles with great authority, she has written of humanity’s travails at large with equal aplomb. What’s more, she somehow manages to be delightfully entertaining while she does. In a world continually shrouded in darkness, she consistently brings light and understanding. Unbelievably, Taylor is not yet thirty years of age...
Taylor, we all need you to shed your cupcake image, toughen you up, and have you seriously take on your super-nasty enemies, like Kanye.
For starters, set up a pay-per-view cage fight in the octagon, and go at him like you mean it. Just make sure the fight contract won’t allow it to be called off by throwing in the towel.
Fight until he’s permanently disabled, or at least until he has to leave the ring in a stretcher. There will be no more fighting like a girl, Taylor. This is time to step up your game, and stop dead in his tracks, your Jesus freak nemesis, your nagging, infantile wuss.
Taylor, you might think you’re limited by legal or career concerns when you forever settle your score with Kanye. Just as the South has stand your ground laws, rest assured that the law, and your fans, will make exceptions for America’s Sweetheart as you at last flush and cleanse yourself of it...
For all of the hell Kanye West put Taylor Swift through, she called him “two-faced” in return. Taylor is too good-natured, and polite to a fault, to handle Kanye’s assaults, his stage charges, his recorded phone call take downs, among other big-league, very hurtful shade.
I would have called him “the Rottweiler,” or at best, “the shameless, self-promoter.” With the lack of humanity that Kanye demonstrated towards Taylor, he could also be justifiably called, “the subhuman, creepy, Jesus freak.”
(With his Sunday-Services-dot-com, Kenya pretends that he is the next Christian messiah, and he would like everyone to pretend along with him. For all the bullsh*t thrown Taylor’s way by Kanye, she must be howling with laughter that he thinks he is in any sense spiritual.)
Taylor has barely kept the wolves at bay. Kenya came after her, as did Kiddie Rock. If she doesn’t put up a fight, and offer real resistance, then they’ll only come back and do yet more damage.
What’s more, Taylor (if you ever read this), you are the official role model for just about every girl in America. If they see you wimping out like this, then they think they shouldn’t put up much of a fight against their adversaries.
This is a call to arms, Taylor. How Kanye got away with hurting you so badly, and you hardly putting up any fight, not only amazes, it’s really kind of sickening.
Your age, and your extreme early success must have sheltered you from knowing how to deal with bad actors like Kanye. You may not be well-equipped to return fire, you may not have even realized it was time to do so.
Pop stars cannot get into major altercations, it can damage the bottom line. I’m just surprised you never hired a hit man to get him to shut up his caustic mouth, and get him out of the way. Otherwise, you had a masochistic crush on him.
Don’t let everyone down. Demand respect, and come out swinging (or the assertiveness equivalent for someone as feminine and charmingly girlish as you are). Those who can’t respect you for asserting yourself, do not deserve your respect.
Do you really need to so gingerly approach those who hurt you? Is your mental health worth less than the remote possibility of lower record sales for protecting yourself and your serenity. Cowering in fear does not suit an audacious pop superstar such as yourself...
It’s nice to see Taylor’s old nemesis, Kanye West, become a Jesus freak, then watch him confusedly wade through the murky waters of biblical mumbo jumbo. High fives all around, Taylor!
Taylor Swift possesses the ability to make people feel good just as many of the best musicians can. Yet Taylor can also make her listeners, young and old, feel young again, and that is a rare gift from the Heavens above that she has refined, and made it into her own musical form...
Thank you, Taylor, for, well, for everything — your always lively, gentle personality, your sweet and sexy ways, your musical talents, etcetera.
But right now, I’m thanking you for making the radio format Nineties and Today listenable. Unless one of your songs is playing there, that particular type of radio station is hardly worth the time.
The Nineties and Today format effectively excludes the best music decades of all time, the Sixties up until the end of the Eighties, and I’m pretty sure this is more than just generational pride. Yet Taylor, you come to the rescue once again...
The irresistible empath, Taylor Swift, is about to release her new album, and she has released the set list. In Other Letter’s continuing role as the premier outlet for critical musical reviews, here is what each song will likely be about (videos courtesy of Two Buck Productions):
1. I Forgot That You Existed
This is a love song with a twist. Taylor’s lover from college returns, and at first Taylor is wondering who he is, but then she remembers. Taylor is so overjoyed that her stud muffin has returned that she sings from the rooftops about him. The song finishes with a rousing, upbeat crescendo as Tay sings: “But now I remember, and that’s made all the difference...” This one has feminist anthem written all over it, maybe written in Day-glo, but still.
As it turns out, this was meant for Kenya West. There’s a line about Drake, who Taylor knows and holds in great regard. If Kenya ever wants to come clean, Drake is an excellent role model for him to follow. Kanye is so strange and cold, the music community has lost all respect for him.
2. Cruel Summer
This is a Bananarama cover, and features Taylor behind the drum kit.
This is the title song. Billions of dollars ride on this one song, arena venues do not sell out unless this title song is well-received. Taylor will only wear revealing, V-neck blouses when singing this song. It is that vital to her repertoire. It is another love song, but with a twist. Scoop: This song chronicles her love affair with her lover.
This is the music shocker of the year, and beyond. Taylor is shacking up with a Black guy on this great, tolerance video. It will definitely raise more than a few eyebrows as half of America will likely go into racist, apoplectic shock. There isn’t anyone now who can doubt that her progressive credentials are true blue. Producing, then releasing, this video took a great deal of courage. Hats off to Taylor Swift!!!
4. The Man
After Taylor and I met to discuss her work, she penned this one in my honor. It’s about the epitome of manhood.
No, I missed the call. This is a poignant look at women in the 2019 world. They want all that men have, but they still must fight every inch of the way. Sadly, a feminine, perceptive, and intuitive beauty like Taylor, only wants to be a man.
5. The Archer
This is not so surprisingly about an archer, but an archer with supernatural powers able to corral Pegasus, the winged-horse who flies.
Caught off base again. It’s a lament over the uncertain future of a new relationship. This time out, will she be the archer, or the archer’s prey?
6. I Think He Knows
Again, Taylor returns with what she knows best, love songs. What does he know? He knows you’ve been cheating on him. Either that, or he knows you love him. Or better, he knows what a prick he’s been. Just saying.
7. Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince
Here, Ms. Swift pays homage to Billy Joel’s Scenes from an Italian Restaurant, but with a twist. Miss Americana is a girl who is so red, white, and blue, her friends called her Miss Americana. The Heartbreak Prince is more homage to me after her visit here last week.
8. Paper Rings
Hmm, traditionally, past seven tracks, and it’s all filler. Yet, I feel she has something up her sleeve this late in the count. Taylor, I know of your perverse fascination with Christmas and Christmas trees (your family owned a Christmas tree farm), so I’m thinking ornamental rings of paper used for holiday party favors. Taylor, did I guess right?
9. Cornelia Street
How well-known is Taylor as being ethnically or racially diverse? Her squad was all White for instance (Selena Gomez is not Black, she’s not Asian, then what is she?) Anyhow, now she pays tribute to Cornelia Street, a very popular tourist destination for African Americans in her native Memphis. Or is that Beale Street?
10. Death by a Thousand Cuts
This is another in a long, long, long line of Taylor breakup, revenge songs. Before she kicks this bum out the door for good, she attacks him with her autographed, Benihana, sushi knives.
11. London Boy
London boy is about one of her former boyfriends. This was originally going to be called: “Hey, Euro Trash Boy,” but management pulled that off the album citing a likely hit on overseas album shipments.
12. Soon You’ll Get Better (feat. The Dixie Chicks)
This is my favorite of the entire album. It’s about dealing with breakup (I know, yawn, but teen girls kill for this stuff).
13. False God
This one has piqued my interest the most. Is she denouncing Baby Jesus? Then does she have a career death wish? Does she wish to commit marketing hari kari? No, this must be about not praying to Baby Jesus, about rejecting the love of a guy who’s been dead for two-thousand-years. Or it just means to avoid cults like Scientology and especially the homophobic, misogynistic, pedophile-harboring, Roman Catholic Church.
14. You Need to Calm Down
This one has gotten heavy rotation on every radio station on earth, so we don’t need to discuss this one here.
Given the target demographic of her audience, Afterglow is about how it feels after having a huge serving of ice cream. Taylor, don’t hate me, I’m shedding light everywhere.
16. Me! (feat. Brendon Urie)
Alien civilizations outside our Milky Way Galaxy have all heard this one by now.
17. It’s Nice to Have a Friend
Borrowing from the Karen and Richard Carpenter songbook... Wait, I’m wrong, this isn’t theirs?... Whose is it then?... It’s Taylor’s? I’m sorry, it’s too sunny, it’s not hers. Taylor is very grim, she’s like Megadeath.
And we finish on a very upbeat note, we are leaving from a cave, sunlight is shining down, Creation is seen out and about in abundant array. We are restored, all thanks to Miss Swift. We are happy and well, Trump has been banished from Toyland...
Just wait and see, when Lover is released, this is what all the songs will be about...
If Taylor’s last outing, Reputation, sold 4 million units less than the prior one, 1989 , was this due to the so-called end of the streaming era? Then what is the next era? Where will music be purchased?
Does it need to be? Is that the challenge? To have people not use Youtube (and is she still on Spotify?) and actually pay for the work in creating music that seems to be given away for free everywhere.
Will there be a boycott of all streaming services by the artists? The tours were originally developed to promote the albums, now that’s in reverse. The albums promote the tours. This can only be because recorded music has such a minimal return on investment...
Even fully clothed, Taylor Swift has been banned as being inappropriate for under-18s per the Southern Baptist Conference’s Parental Advisory Bored. The Christian Bored issued a communiqué: “We can’t allow this! She’s too damn hot!...”
Kiddie Rock is trying to revitalize his flailing career by claiming that Taylor’s Democratic ties means she is gearing for a Hollywood career. (He also spewed some sexist obscenities regarding fellatio which I won’t repeat here.)
These days, he prays to baby Jesus that he’ll return to the spotlight. His young boyfriend wields the paddle so Kiddie Rock tries harder. Kiddie Rock, what you’re saying only means that you are suds-addled. Get sober now, you pathetic, low-life loser!!!
The most surprising part about Kiddie Rock’s insults is he’s finally coming out. A gorgeous woman like Taylor, and all he can say is the most hurtful things imaginable. I’m not homophobic, so Kiddie Rock coming out as gay is not shameful. It’s just surprising is all.
Maybe his fans knew this already, and this is why they’re his fans, because they’re all gay. Geez, Kiddie Rock is a queer, who knew?
One more thing to say about Kiddie Rock before we need to talk about people who aren’t a*holes. That was a real cheap shot, out of the blue, and without cause. This is how anyone knows you have a drinking problem, you tried to hurt her, and you’re almost twice her age.
Where on Earth is that a cool thing to say? If Kiddie Rock is out there, you’re just a waste product. To borrow your Trump’s favorite expression, “You’re just a disgrace!...”
A woman is obviously more than just her looks, but Taylor has reached a level of physical beauty where she could give up on music, and make similar money as a super model. Just saying. Sigh...
Taylor just lost her entire recording catalog to a former manager of hers named Scooter. She left her label, and he bought it up. This begs the question: Why is her financial management so clueless? Taylor has been misled, and needs to find much better guidance. She could ask me, but good luck ever affording my services.
Yet there is a more pressing question: What does she intend to do with her hundreds of millions of dollars that she already has? Humankind has only so many things it needs to keep it going. There are luxury goods that a twenty-nine-year-old like Taylor couldn’t have an interest in having. These include villas on Lake Como, 300-foot yachts, and forty-passenger Gulfstream, business aircraft. The more she buys, the more maintenance headaches she’s bound to have.
This is unless Taylor is saving for a nest egg in the event that her career completely tanks, and that’s exactly what her cash hoarding sounds like she’s doing. She’s saving with the belief that the bottom drops out, and she has no other source of income. Subway busking would be too humiliating.
Taylor could become verboten to any music lover on earth. She could be framed in a kitty mill. Taylor could easily be involved in a heroin sting. If she steps outside of the lines, there won’t be anyone to buy her records.
Like Bono, Taylor is known for championing social justice causes as well as filling gaps in American healthcare for indigent patients, and cheering up terminal fans on their death bed. Hopefully, unlike tax-cheat Bono, she doesn’t use doing good deeds as the public relations foundation for her commercial success.
Still, Ms. Swift may feel that philanthropic endeavor is worthy of most of her millions, except she only needs a good cause. The stewardship of most have been taken by now, so she needs to be creative with her tax write offs. How about The Taylor Swift Hospital for Pediatric Dementia?
Because of the loss of her revenue stream, exorbitant spending, involvement in felonious activities, or opening up a ten-thousand bed hospital in her name, Taylor Swift could be facing deep hardship. She could ask me for assistance with her finances, but again, she can’t afford my rates...
Where does Taylor spend her money? Like many of her top tier fans, I’ve been on dumpster diving expeditions at the back of her driveway (for lodging, the Providence Holiday Inn has the Swifty Garbage Rummage Package, check for rates and availability).
Sorting through receipts, this is what she buys: cat baths, cat grooming, cat masseuses, cat food, and cat hotels. When she’s on the road, Meredith and Olivia must receive the same care and attention that Taylor would give them herself.
Further inspecting her rubbish, the Other Letter Investigative Team noticed that she spends inordinate sums on out-sized quantities of ingredients for chocolate chip cookie recipes.
For Taylor’s legendary parties, she caters from Rhode Island’s Ocean Deli whose spreads include lobster salad by the tank; Maine rock shrimp; filet of sole; and for the hated meat-eaters — who don’t get return invites — Taylor provides McDonald’s Big Macs.
Here’s a keeper from the trash barrel: Taylor charges her airfare. For her Reputation Tour, she charged over a million dollars on airfare for her private, leased Gulfstream.
(Taylor learned the hard way about Cessnas, they don’t get you to the show on time. I could have told her this. Yet I am asked all the time: “Why are you so partial to Gulfstream? What don’t you like about the Cessna line of aircraft?” My answer is simple: “Well-honed, technological integrity. With Gulfstream, that’s undeniable, but I can’t say the same about Cessna. With the latter, I’ve always had more than my share of doubts.”)
The biggest gem of all was this surprise: Taylor spends thousands at every party for dwarves used in tossing competitions. As her biggest fans know already, Taylor is deeply into kinky sexual practices.
Then it wasn’t any surprise that at the bottom of the pile of trash were eight-by-elevens of prospective dwarves in various states of undress, along with annotated pricing info. One photo was notated with a Sharpie and read:
“This dwarf will be headlining my next party! I must toss this dwarf!!! —$375 per appearance? I’d pay double, triple, even!!!” [The photo was of a young, attractive woman with a generous bosom, who was four-feet-tall, and who had a very strong resemblance to Reese Witherspoon...]
I’m debating what to make of Taylor offering her journal, liner notes, et al, for sale. She operates a corporate juggernaut, but is it because she wants to share her love, hope, and experience, or does she have an overwhelming desire to own an island nation?
Is she just shilling merchandise with a fake, plastic grin on her face; or is she sharing heartfelt material for the benefit of her fans, and there happens to be a mostly nominal cost to defray manufacture, shipping, and handling.
The cynic inside will say that she is set on getting even richer still. Yet watching her pitch stuff, she just seems to be so happy to share her ever-growing wealth of experience and insight. A good measure of her charm is her wide-eyed innocence, and that’s not an easy thing to put a price tag upon.
Or maybe we’ve all been completely hoodwinked, and Taylor will be closing on Saint Bart’s...
In Taylor’s latest, The Archer, she sounds much more adult than in any of her other work. With this track, she is a woman trying to connect in the newest relationship of hers, and knowing there may be “combat” ahead to fight. Will this be the beginning of something great? Or only another forgettable episode?
Listening to most of her music, I think, “She’s not Joni,” which is fine. But here, I think, “She is Joni, or of Joni’s kind.” By this I mean that she is authentic, sincere, and not commercial. This isn’t a future McDonald’s jingle.
Here’s a bit more on the Taylor front. Does Taylor have doubts concerning whether or not she’s good enough? Or if her fame is deserved? Can anyone doubt that she’s worked very, very hard for her success?...
Eh, oh! Taylor had another whack job visit her address, this time from someone who claimed she promised to advance his career. Danvers State’s outpatient program has failed again. Danvers State is the New England residence for mental hygiene.
Anyhow, this guy had a baseball bat with him, which means that: A, he’s the next Charles Manson; or B, he was going to thrash his way beyond bodyguards, then audition for Taylor; or C, he was up for a friendly game of catch with his idol.
My vote is “B,” although I hope law enforcement doesn’t take any chances, and treats the case as though he is a completely, deranged psychopath. His type of behavior forfeited all his rights to free mobility.
I will say this right here and right now, if anyone so much as inappropriately touches Taylor Swift, I or the Others in my charge (I am now accepting groupie applications), will personally hunt him down and — okay, rest assured, it won’t be pretty, at all...
The Pantheon would kill for the level of press coverage that Taylor regularly gets. Yet Ms. Swift is not as squeaky clean as her marketing squad would suggest.
Here’s a very little known fact: Taylor once walked off the stage five minutes into her first set because she felt the applause wasn’t loud enough on her intro to suit her. Here’s another: Taylor was mainlining heroin one summer, but she got off it before everything went South, crashed and burned, and well, it got to be seriously un-fun.
What’s more, she has five kids from five different dads that no one knows anything about except select insiders like The Other Letter. Before her recording contract, she was a streetwalker in Nashville’s infamous Anything 4U&$ district, but once she landed the contract, she no longer had need to sell her body. This part of her history informs much of her lyrics about street life and hustling for a buck.
Given Taylor’s life on the street, she has a criminal record a mile long, mostly for prostitution, but she also dealt methamphetamine for which she did serve time in the federal pen.
In fact, she would still be there if not for a Presidential pardon from Barack Obama. He saw promise in the young, practically orphaned, Taylor, so the sentence was commuted from thirty years to life, to three months.
What caught Obama’s interest, was Taylor’s ambition in putting together a questionnaire for her fellow inmates outlining desired reforms. She found the time to survey and compile her study and work on the chain gang.
Because of Ms. Swift, the United States Penitentiary in Lompoc has one beauty day every month, as requested by the survey’s felon respondents. Turns out what these hardened, lady car thieves wanted more than anything was to enhance their looks. So this beauty day is set aside for inmates to work at improving their appearance, and thus be readier for life on the outside. Way to be, Taylor...
Taylor has been off the radar for the last few weeks. Turns out she’s on a Himalayan mountainside with her guru spacing out on hallucinogenic mushrooms. Taylor smokes more weed in a day than Rastafarians do in a year, so this was little departure from her cosmic head-in-the-clouds. Taylor wanted to reach her path to permanent bliss this time around, but now she desperately wants to just get home.
The sherpa is ten-thousand-dollars a day, and only speaks a dozen words of English. Taylor also wanted to hammer out some melodies in the vacuum that is life (mostly) alone at 20,000 feet above sea level. She trekked her guitar to each base station, and gave impromptu performances which would have been nice, but no one there understood the lyrics. When she translated the words to Nepalese, they only burst into laughter.
So for most of Taylor’s over ambitious hiking trip, she was on a crying jag, and being strung out on psilocybin didn’t help matters at all...
Your rapist, you know, the one who walked away with the revenue streams of your entire recording catalog? Scooter Braun? Yeah, that’s the one. He posted that he wants to talk with you privately. He would like to absolve himself of his rape of you.
Whatever you do, Taylor, you do not ever talk again to your rapist. Scooter will twist everything around to make it sound like it was your fault that all your profits are going into his pocket. Scooter will claim that your life’s work, from your years of blood, sweat, and tears, is deservedly his.
Once you let him off the hook, he is home free. His rape of you is then a complete success. He will spend the rest of his life quoting you on your acquiescence to his rape. Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you. All you should be doing now is devising a means of ruining this scum bag...
Here’s the latest on the Scooter Braun invasion into Taylor Nation: The exploitive, managerial excrement will never get a table in this town again. Scooter screwed over Taylor but good.
Yet, Taylor, you need to focus on retaliatory strikes. When you communicate to your fans, via social media, or in arenas when you’re touring, tell your fans to steer clear of the Scooter queer, and not buy the affected, radioactive records, meaning those prior to your latest, greatest, long-player, Lover.
Scooter will be forced to climb back under his rock in disgrace, and his corporate raid will put him deeply and intractably in the red.
And, Taylor, please keep this in mind regarding the nature of the dark side. Because Evil is a short-lived, life-negating, and unnatural, inorganic phenomenon, its hurtful opportunism is soon enough exposed, as equilibrium is returned to the Universe once more. Evil menaces the good today, but it’s ultimately banished to take up residence in Hell tomorrow. Here today, gone tomorrow...
Taylor Swift is extricating herself from a very detrimental business contract, with a very greedy hustler named, get this, “Scooter.” Scooter (I’m serious, this fag goes by that name) now has the rights to Taylor’s entire catalog.
Taylor, I am so sorry for your torture at his hands, but there are people that tread this Earth like rats, and deserve all the respect given rodents. You’ll need to put out a few rat traps, to rid yourself of your infestation.
Make it a habit to include Scooter in your posts, and drag him through the mud, until he feels the profound shame that is his birthright. Scooter translated means “exploitive scum bag.” I’d make him fear for his life, but that’s only personal preference.
That Scooter set you up with the Kardashian-West video is more proof that Nazis still live, and just remember what they wrote on the walls of the camps, “Never forget, never forgive, and never again [or is that only my version?]...”
Taylor will be taking the rest of the year off. She’s been getting it from all sides for her latest, Top 40, gay pride manifesto — it’s not strong enough says one side, and the other side is angry because it lets gays off the hook for their crimes against Baby Jesus. As her nearest and dearest friend, and the world leader in anti-Christ evidence, The Other Letter is definitely in the former camp.
But back to Taylor, this is a story about Taylor: Her hands have started with the palsy again, and her medical team has ordered that she spend at least the summer, or more likely the rest of the year, recuperating in bed.
That I am even partially to blame for your disintegration, Taylor, that I somehow helped to crush your soul, breaks my heart in two. I am so sorry for your complete nervous exhaustion. If I can do anything for you to hasten your recovery, please Taylor, please, call me on my private number in my man cave.
For instance, just say the word, and I will show up at your door with a basket of cheer, or fresh, ripe produce from the grocery perhaps.
I also have a wide selection of board games to bring you, including UNO! You heard right, Taylor, UNO, the card game for young and old! Parcheesi is also good, except I can’t remember how to play it, but we can read the rule book together, and figure the darn thing out. Oh, and Monopoly, we’re in the age of Trump, we both could sharpen our real estate acquisition aggression. Scrabble is another game, except it’s unpopular, it’s only meant for people who think too much, and who also have something to prove.
You’ve heard of chess, and checkers, but have you heard of Chinese Checkers? I made Varsity Chinese Checkers my senior year of high school. (Strangely, it wasn’t a letter sport, I don’t have anything to show for my participation, unlike spoiled kids today.)
Better yet, we’ll play Twister. Your doctor will okay this, because even though you won’t be convalescing in bed, it will limber you up. Plus, it’s legal in your home state of Rhode Island, although not South of the Mason-Dixon Line in the Bible Belt.
We’ll talk soon, okay, sweetie? The worst has already passed — and you’re alive! You still have what’s left of your youth on your side!...
Critics are saying Taylor’s latest, You Need To Calm Down is too little, too late, to be any Pride anthem. This is despite her best of intentions to write one, and the fact that she’s relatively young to include a song about gays and lesbians in her repertoire.
Yet no one was clamoring for a gay pride song from Taylor before now. She has always staked claim to the mainstream, whereas this song is a distinct departure.
Mainstream critics also claimed that video-homophobic rednecks are an easy target, why not go after well-heeled bigots like Trump? Although every mainstream critic balks at going after the Pope, the Vatican, and the Protestant Church leadership, who are the wellspring of homophobia.
The Church legitimizes hate, and works hard at making hate seem virtuous. Meanwhile, the mainstream media denies big religion’s complicity in homophobia. The Press doesn’t think its fit to print anything about the Church being the prime generator of homophobia. As it stands today, the Fourth Estate is oblivious to their own complicity in homophobia.
Taylor, if you’re out there, the mainstream critics are all telling you that from now on, you’ll have to stick to singing songs about your exes...
Ms. Swift just released her new single, You Need To Calm Down, which makes her case against bullies, but mostly it’s her argument against homophobes.
This is all well and good, but Taylor portrays the villains as being rednecks, when the true villain is the Pope, who leads the charge in denying gay and lesbian rights. Only straights can get married in his Churches, and he is now enforcing heterosexuality with his clergy.
The Pope is openly homophobic. Anyone can follow his example of intolerance from one “anointed by god”, and feel that homophobia is not just okay, but it is virtuous.
Every Christian denomination is also intolerant of gays and lesbians, so if Taylor wants to work at real change, she needs to address (and take down) the initial, prime source of homophobia, the Vatican, and the Protestant Church leadership.
The song, while obviously well-intentioned, and otherwise very-well-conceived, doesn’t just gloss over institutionalized homophobia held sacred by the Pope, and every other Christian “leader.” No, it completely ignores Christianity’s dominant role in the global zeitgeist of homophobia.
I doubt Taylor only sees herself as a Top Forty pop act, so all I suggest is that she uses her considerable clout to go after the big boys.
Ashley Judd has also taken a stand against homophobia, although she has come up short of the mark as well. Ashley will be playing a biopic’s villain, Anita Bryant, who is homophobic, just like Ashley’s Methodist Church is...
Taylor is promoting her latest, Lover, and in my estimation, doing it too aggressively. She just had a ten-minute Instagram talk, where she talked about how the four different versions of the CD are so different, each with unique “content.” Ms. Swift is also shilling a clothing line in partnership with Stella McCartney.
In my day, artists such as Joni Mitchell or Linda Ronstadt would never self-promote, or at least not to this extent. To me, this comes across as being both crass, and exploitive of her by her record label. Taylor is assuming their marketing function.
Where will the Taylor brand tie-ins end? Will there be: Taylor snack foods; a Taylor Swift amusement park; a Swifty Airline (“I’m Taylor, fly me to Miami this winter”); a Taylor Electronics Subsidiary; and Taylor Swift Aerospace? When does she say that having enough dough to own an island nation, is enough dough, and that it’s time to call it quits?
The music is certainly very high quality, and catchy, but one wonders how much of the finished product was written by Taylor. Taylor is definitely top-of-the-line among today’s artists, yet she is one of twelve composer credits for her last album, Reputation. Ms. Swift is the “primary artist,” but isn’t this creativity by committee?
The last thing she wants to earn is a reputation as a pretty dancer with a cute smile, a lightweight in her industry, but if everyone else is writing her material, how can this criticism ever be avoided? This may sound unbelievably cruel, but is it also the truth?
Again, back in the day, these functions were not divvied up like they are now. True, Taylor is running a big machine (ironically, this is the name of her recording label), but she’s bordering on being big business.
Taylor must get concerned about prostituting her privacy. How much is she willing to reveal about her personal life for song material and online promotion? Social media is designed to reveal closely held secrets about celebrities.
How low will Taylor’s reveals go? What scintillating details will there be left in her Easter eggs? Is there anything the world won’t know that even her mother or best friend might not? Would any Swifty be surprised in the least, if she had bedroom cams of her, with her latest, new romance, or romances?...
Taylor Swift appeared on the Ellen DeGeneres Show, or more accurately, Taylor held court on her show. Taylor has become the archetype, the preeminent role model, of the younger, enlightened, American woman. She can do no wrong.
Which brings us to Ellen, and a main topic of conversation. Why did she devote so much time to the shaving of Taylor’s legs? Because Ellen is gay, and she’s hitting on a beauty? Nah, how would that be a come on? Regardless, we know now that Taylor shaves her legs every day, to which Ellen replied that she did this less often. As a lesser by comparison, Ellen blurted out (or read off the TelePrompTer): “You’re hairy, Taylor!”
While the show was mostly amusing, this bit was not exactly high-brow entertainment. Taylor took everything, including new reveals about her legs, in stride.
Taylor is America’s sweetheart. She is much prettier now, and carries herself with much more sophistication, than just five years prior. She is adorable, and except for our unfortunately-substantial, age difference, and the fact that she doesn’t (or won’t) travel in my circles, we would be husband and wife...
Taylor doesn’t aim for worldwide, pop-music domination, she’s real yet idiosyncratic. She has a reputation for being quirky and unpredictable. For instance, she has full musician chops, but she doesn’t have much of a reputation as a dancer.
Which brings us to her cats: Meredith and Olivia. Taylor is the original cat lady. Both her cats have a place at her dinner table, and they will all eat off of the same plate. If either cat appears temperamental, she takes them to the cat shrink for group therapy to iron out their differences.
She can readily lower her guard, yet possess the fortitude to never succumb to the dark forces. Yet, all the while, she remains unusually likable with a beautiful spirit...
The Other Side
Doris “Runs Heaven Now” Day
(Pillow Talk, 1959)
Doris Day (aka Doris Mary Kappelhoff) is a scene stealer. Try to catch any of her films on cable channel, Turner Classic Movies, and you’ll see exactly what I mean — even up against Hollywood legends such as Rock Hudson who seems stiff in comparison.
She has appeared in a great number of bedroom comedies like Lover Come Back, Send Me No Flowers, and Pillow Talk, which not only ride on her considerable sex appeal, but on her comedic abilities. She does slapstick, physical comedy, in these films as well. Doris is also an unusually accomplished singer.
TCM has noted her comic timing, yet what I notice is that she appropriately interprets the script. There is nuance and intonation in the expression of meaning, character, and theme. Of the movies I’ve seen of hers, she carries the show.
Ms. Day was teased unfairly for her demure femininity. The line goes: “I knew Doris Day before she was a virgin.” Yet this woman is so inherently likeable. She just melts your heart. Hollywood today is so dour, and so bitter. Doris Day is pure, unadulterated sunshine.
She belonged to a generation of superstars, from the Golden Age of Hollywood, that seemed to just have more star power wattage. It’s as if there was a stronger, tighter-knit community, that established a more suitable crucible for creating screen legends. Did greater camaraderie make for less conflicted stage and screen personalities, ones capable of more fluid performances?
Or were scripts written during a time when the movie production could not fall back on special effects making them that much more effective, and the resulting film that much more watchable and enjoyable?
Ms. Day is an activist for animal rights. She is the founder of The Doris Day Animal Foundation, and is dead set against using animals for fur coats.
Mary “Wrong Party” Tyler Moore
(Still from The Mary Tyler Moore Show
Lou Grant, her boss, was very upsetting to poor Mary Richards.)
While we obviously have no proof, is there a chance that five days into a Trump Presidency, and seeing the havoc he has already reeked, soured our loveable Ms. Moore on not only her Republican Party, but on life itself, and caused her death?
In other words, did Trump turn her world off by being vile? Did Trump make a worthwhile day and suddenly make it seem like nothing? We’re sure now Mary knows it, with each glance, and every little movement she showed it. Trump is all around, Mary had need to fake it, she had the town once, it’s too late to take it. Today, she discovered he might just build that wall after all...
IMDB includes a synopsis of The Dick van Dyke Show, a show where Mary Tyler Moore was once a mainstay. They state that Mary’s turn as Laura Petrie was as a “loopy” house wife, although if you have ever watched that show, every character is fairly loopy.
That turn led to her most famous role, the part of Mary Richards in the revered Mary Tyler Moore Show. Here, easy one-liners were eschewed, and in their place were jokes built on the relationships of well-defined characters. As the theme song suggests, Mary Richards was going to make it on her own, without being beholden to any man, especially when that meant being just her hubby’s wife. This radical feminism was unheard of in American TV of the 1970’s.
I must again take exception to the IMDB biography — otherwise well-written, although perhaps penned by a non-believer — in that they claim in the opening credits, that despite her well-established vegan sentiments, she tosses “meat” into her shopping cart. Okay, that looks like poultry to me, and besides, she is not throwing the package of animal product into her shopping cart happily. Rather, she is doing it with obvious disdain, raising the question to all of us in TV land with half a brain: what the hell is in her processed foods, and more relevantly, what is in ours, being raised in the same American corporate farmlands? At the time, this was a clarion call across the U.S. as people could start to see that what they were shopping for, preparing, then setting on their family’s dinner table, was inhumanely-treated crap.
Mary got the Oscar nom, but not the nod, for Ordinary People in 1981, yet the Hollywood Foreign Press Association had the common, good sense to give her three Golden Globes, and to nominate her six other times. She has also won six Emmy awards.
Ms. Moore has Type I Diabetes and supports efforts to find a cure. To that goal, she also supports the very progressive, oddly anti-Vatican policy of stem cell research.
Yet Mary watches a lot of Fox News, and Ed Asner, her MTM co-star, has said she has gotten much more conservative over the years. Given she: “can turn the world on with her smile, she can make a nothing day and suddenly make it seem worthwhile. Well, it’s you girl, and you should know it, with each glance and every little movement you show it. Love is all around don’t need to fake it, you can have the town, why don’t you take it, you might just make it after all (this is worth memorizing just as I have, you never know when such learned esoterica will come in handy).”
You might just make it, Ms. Moore, if you disavow Fox News. As it stands though, you are hereby relegated to Pantheon probation, which will be lifted once you tidy up your politics, and get with the program. Cloris, Ed, and Betty will have their say on your behalf as character witnesses, if they so choose. We run a very tight ship here, Mary, we suggest you toe the line.
Lauren “The Whistler” Bacall
(“You know how to whistle. Don’t you, Steve?”
Just put your lips together ... and blow.)
Lauren Bacall was perhaps best known for her leading roles as the ‘it girl’ opposite Humphrey Bogart in The Big Sleep, Dark Passage, and Key Largo. Besides film noir roles, Ms. Bacall did have starring, comedic turns such as How to Marry a Millionaire with Marilyn Monroe and Designing Woman opposite Gregory Peck.
Lauren had appeared in movies with a Who’s Who of Hollywood’s royalty including: Henry Fonda, Tony Curtis, Natalie Wood, Paul Newman, Shelley Winters, Julie Harris, Robert Wagner, Janet Leigh, Ingrid Bergman, Albert Finney, Sean Connery, and Nicole Kidman.
Lauren Bacall had just two Academy Awards on her mantel, the first for a supporting role in 1996’s The Mirror Has Two Faces, and the second, an Academy Honorary Award, “in recognition of her central place in the Golden Age of motion pictures.” Lauren was an exceptionally accomplished stage actress as well, having won Tonys for the musicals Applause, and Woman of the Year. Lauren Bacall was ranked 20th of the top 25 actresses of all time by the American Film Institute.
Ms. Bacall was married to Humphrey Bogart, and the couple was good friends with Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy. After Bogart’s passing, she was involved with the Chairman of the Board, Frank Sinatra, blowing him off once she saw who a few of his friends were.
Because Lauren possessed the courage and conviction to speak out against McCarthyism, she was denied the well-earned accolades she deserved from the motion picture industry, Hollywood, and the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. Ms. Bacall will always be an absolute giant in Hollywood who only earned her first Oscar, in just a supporting role, in 1997 at the age of 73.
Ms. Bacall had always been proud of her well-grounded, leftist political viewpoints. Lauren was the first cousin of Shimon Peres, the current Prime Minister of Israel.
Greta “Lonely at the Top” Garbo
Watching Greta play her Oscar-winning, title role in Camille, we see Greta’s character change her mind just with facial expressions. She was really quite a phenomenon to watch.
At a few other points in Camille, she must have been playing for the back row of the theater, as her expressions appeared exaggerated. A sophisticated actress, and screen legend, of her caliber wouldn’t overact though. It must have been recognition of 1930’s projection resolution and screen size limitations.
Greta successfully transitioned from silent to talking pictures unlike Nora Desmond of Sunset Boulevard...
Bette Davis had once said, “Her instinct, her mastery over the machine, was pure witchcraft. I cannot analyze this woman’s acting. I only know that no one else so effectively worked in front of a camera.” This was very great praise indeed...
Greta had interests far beyond Tinsel Town’s confines (sounds like Kim Kardashia, doesn’t it?) She amassed an art collection worth millions. Greta chose not to participate in the Hollywood publicity machine. Greta retired at the age of thirty-five after appearing in twenty-eight films. As she was famously quoted, she would rather “be alone,” perhaps with friends, than play the Hollywood game.
Ms. Garbo never married, and didn’t have any children. She was often rumored to be a lesbian. She did say that she “always wanted to be the boss,” and that her favorite pastimes were smoking stogies, drinking six-packs, and watching boxing matches with unshaven legs and underarms (her pastimes were not entirely confirmed at press time, they do sound much like Madonna’s).
Greta Garbo epitomized timeless, effortless, elegance and glamour. One of the most golden from the Golden Age of Hollywood, she began her acting career in Sweden. Ms. Garbo had a very independent spirit from an early age. She spoke her mind, even more so when there was a just cause to sponsor.
The Academy nominated her four times in the Thirties, but only gave her an Honorary Award in 1954. She did not show up at the ceremony to receive it. Her Marguerite Gautier in Camille earned her the most accolades.
Elizabeth “Superstar” Taylor
An Elizabeth Taylor performance is what actresses see when screenwriters read Shakespeare, in other words, stage perfection. As an on-screen legend (and an off-screen one as well), she is imbued with all the spirit and vitality of Creation. Most performances when scrutinized under a pundit’s microscope, find the slightest of flaws in lack of authenticity or genuineness. If you try to find any in Giant, you will come up empty-handed...
Many actresses seen on the silver screen today look as though the air conditioning on the set was set too high, they just do not look comfortable. Elizabeth Taylor looked as though she was sunning on a Hawaiian Isle. Soft caressing ocean breezes, the field hands all eager to placate her every need. In other words, Liz looked as though she was completely composed, in actresses’ Heaven, enjoying every moment...
Be they co-stars in her movies, or friends in her real life, Ms. Taylor could always connect with people. Early on in her career, critics regarded her sexuality as precocious, with her exceptionally rare, violet eyes adding to her allure. To many inside and outside the entertainment industry, she is considered to be the greatest actress to appear on the silver screen. Gloria Steinem likewise described her as a “movie queen with no ego ... expert at what she does, uncatty in her work relationships with other actresses.”
Her charitable work is also legendary. She won a Presidential Citizens Medal in 2001 for raising $200 million for AIDS research, and bringing awareness to the plight of those suffering.
Marlene “Blue Angel” Dietrich
(Shanghai Express still)
Marlene Dietrich’s depth of character risked her very life. As the World geared for Hitler’s vicious, madman aggression, Ms. Dietrich was offered very lucrative contracts to return to her native Germany, and become the premier film star of the Third Reich. It was an offer she somehow found the courage to refuse, and she became an American citizen in 1937.
In the Blue Angel, arguably her most famous screen role, Marlene played a cabaret singer who brought on the downfall of a once respected University professor.
Even early in her career, she would wear a jacket and tie, or other masculine clothing, indicating her refusal to be subjugated to a male-dominated World.
Ms. Dietrich, an accomplished singer, went to Germany in 1944 with General George S. Patton to perform with the USO. Even though she was just a few miles from the Nazi lines, she felt the need to be there “aus Anstand” — “out of decency.”
In the latter stage of her career, and backed with Burt Bacharach as her arranger, she made many cabaret performances in London and Las Vegas. Peter Bogdanovich observed that, with the songs she sings, “she lends each an air of the aristocrat, yet she never patronizes.”
She returned to Germany in 1960, and received a mixed reception, with protesters shouting “Marlene go home!” and with non-Nazis giving her a much warmer welcome.
She succumbed to alcoholism, and a painkiller dependency, at the age of 90.