I've never really understood the sick fascination with the personal lives of celebrities. Although I have to admit, some days a click on the entertainment link or a quick flip through OK! magazine is too hard to pass up. Today was one such day. I happened to click a link from MSN.com which said that Lance Armstrong and Ashley Olsen are dating. My immediate reaction was "who gives a shit", but at the same time I had to read on. (Although this particular situation was a bit scandalous because of the 15 year age difference, plus the fact that I still picture the Olsen twins in pigtails saying "You got it dude". Not blowing coke and sleeping with someone almost twice their age.) Why do we as the public feel it our right to know the ins and outs of our favorite celebrity's personal life?
One thing I absolutely can not stand is the combining of two names when a new romance blossoms. A la "Bennifer" or "Tomcat". The newest one I discovered in the same article is "Gyllenspoon". Apparently "Reese Witherspoon and Jake Gyllenhaal have rapidly gone from wily to smiley. On the heels of their touchy-feely, piggy back-ride-capped tour of Rome, the once clandestine couple was caught on video a few days back yukking it up on a Los Angeles beach." How disturbing.The most disgusting segment (or at least title) of gossip smut I've seen in a while is Womb Watch which was linked to the above article. Womb Watch? Really? That seems to be the set up to a wonderful punchline in a joke I love to tell.
Even though it is tempting to catch up on the latest Brittney meltdown or to see from what country "Brangelina" will get their next baby, gossip columns have gone too far. Yes, that's what celebrities should know they are getting into when the enter the business, but have our minds become so rotted that we have to follow their every move?
3 comments:
Q. When you're at the abortion clinic, how do you know what time it is?
A. Look at your womb watch.
There it is. Thank you.
I never watch celebrity gossip shows on TV, nor do I read celebrity gossip magazines (except the once a year "100 most beautiful people" issue of People, which I use for my classroom picture file.) But - I love catching up on my celebrity gossip whenever I go to the beauty salon.
Lance Armstrong is a Francophobe asshole. I threw away my "Livestrong" bracelet after I read that he had grossly insulted the French soccer team at the time of the last World Cup final. I hope that Ashley Olson breaks his heart a thousand times.
I once wrote a blog entry about how upset I sometimes get when celebrity couples break up, which is really, really infantile behavior.
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