George Clooney pulls up on a motorcycle and doffs his helmet with casual grace. He is arrestingly handsome in person, and his suave, familiar smile leaves me breathless. But looking into his warm brown eyes up close, I see a tinge of sadness. The unlucky-in-love Clooney is said to be in mourning these days; recovering from yet another failed relationship.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” George says, holding the door for me as we enter a small, unpretentious Hollywood café. “I just got back from playing racquetball with Brad [Pitt], and things got pretty heated. We do enjoy a little competition.”
Off the racquetball court, it can be argued that Brad Pitt is the one coming in ahead these days. With a beautiful woman on his arm and an enviable family life, Pitt has been lucky enough to find that special someone. He never has to worry about having no one to come home to at night. Though Clooney has dated a string of beautiful women over the years, it’s widely evident that he still has yet to find a soul mate.
George orders his coffee black and I do the same. “I’m trying to watch my figure,” he says with gruff charm, and winks. It’s obvious that Clooney is concerned about maintaining his attractiveness. As a single man in his forties, he is well aware of his diminishing appeal. The older he gets, the slimmer his chances are of ever finding a woman to settle down with. These are sobering thoughts for a single man of a certain age.
I decide to be daring, and address the elephant in the room, asking Clooney point blank about his most recent devastating break-up, with Vegas cocktail waitress Sarah Larson.
“Wait, who?” he says, expertly feigning confusion. It’s clear that his heartbreak has not yet run its course. “Oh right, Sarah. She’s a great girl—it’s too bad it didn’t work out. I wish her the best. Let me tell you about this project I’m working on with Don Cheadle. The man is a fucking genius. It’s been so much fun kicking ideas around with him. The other day we were out in LA…”
As Clooney talks, I am struck by how much he reminds me of a lost little boy. I want to take him home with me and set him up on a blind date with my maiden aunt. His rumpled button-down Oxford shirt and salt-and-pepper hair cry out for a wife’s loving, critical attentions. Still, I admire the carefree smile he presents bravely to the world, hiding his pain and loneliness with a life full of exotic travel, wild parties and a rewarding, illustrious career in film and television.
I halt my mournful reverie long enough to notice that Clooney is telling an amusing story about the time he and Matt Damon lost a friend’s Camaro in a poker game in Mexico. “Man, I shouldn’t be telling you this,” he cackles gleefully. “I could get in trouble.” I wonder briefly what his apartment looks like, and the thought makes me sad. No matter how he tries to fill it with track lighting and stylish décor, underneath the expensive rugs and modern furniture it must be a barren place; an empty, husk of a shrine to his failed hopes and dreams of becoming a happily married man.
As our conversation winds down, George pays our tab and escorts me to my car like a true gentleman. It is heartening to realize that such men still exist in our world, even suffering as they do from lonely hearts.
“Don’t ever give up hope, George,” I want to tell him. “I know in my soul that there is a woman out there for you. A partner in crime; someone for you to wake up next to every morning for the rest of your life, instead of a steady stream of cocktail waitresses and young party girls who are only out for a meaningless fling.”
But instead, I only smile as we part ways. “Keep your chin up, kid.” Clooney tells me. “It’s nice to see you smiling.” A stretch limo pulls up to the curb next to him and the back window rolls down. Through peals of laughter I hear a female voice inviting him to climb in. As the limo pulls away, I catch a last glimpse of Clooney. He has a glass of champagne in one hand and a woman’s stocking in his teeth. Perhaps this time, he will finally find love.
The all-new FOX summer line-up includes the highly-anticipated reality talent show, “So You Think You Can Torture?” Watch as world-class interrogators compete against one another (and terror) in the rising field of intelligence-gathering. A panel of celebrity judges– with guest appearances by Dick Cheney and Mohammed Al-Qahtani– will award contestants points for style, results, and creative interpretation of the Army field manual. Each week a new loser will be eliminated by audience vote (voters must be legal US citizens) and handed a copy of the Geneva Conventions. The grand prize winner receives a retroactive pardon from former President Bush. (Pardon not valid in some states).
Emily Saidel and I debated the usefulness of the short-lived iPhone Baby Shaker App. in this week’s Perpetual Post. Catch her side here.
Just when I thought the iPhone had come out with an application that would be useful to me in everyday life, it was cruelly rescinded!
Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy playing Snood and making my iPhone look like a frosty mug of beer as much as the next person, but when it comes to spending $3.99, I’d just as soon purchase an application which teaches me a lesson that will really enrich my life—and leave it filled with babies. Alive babies.
So, it turns out you’re not supposed to vigorously shake an infant. Who’s supposed to teach me that, now that my iPhone is no longer permitted to? From what source am I to glean the knowledge that a rapid back-and-forth jerky motion causes X’s to appear over the eyes of a newborn? Do I pick that kind of information up on a street corner? At the local library? In school—a daycare, perhaps?
Videogames have long educated me on the ways of the world. From them I have learned that jumping on a giant mushroom with eyes and squashing it will keep me safe. I have discovered that shooting a dragon in the face with a crossbow rewards me with extra life and energy points. And I was on my way to learning what happens when you briskly shake an infant—but that knowledge has been unfairly ripped away. I vaguely believe that the results were bad, but I’m not completely sure anymore. How is this my fault?
Apple, return the Baby Shaker App to its rightful place in my iPhone. Some of us really need it.
Jillian Lovejoy Lowery and I take on the Swine Flu in this week’s Perpetual Post. Yeah, we know we’re going to hell. Read her delightful take here.
Smarten Up, Swine Flu!
Swine flu, you are all over the map here! Your public relations team is doing a terrible job. Your image needs some serious work—and you need a clear message. You’ve also got to stick to your talking points and stay on target. This isn’t rocket science, it’s influenza! Work with me here.
You started in Mexico, Swine Flu, and you really got going there, I’ll give you that. You built a strong groundwork and created the momentum to sustain quite a campaign. But your sloppiness began almost immediately thereafter—as evinced by a number of tiny, insignificant one-person outbreaks in far-flung places across the United States and eventually the globe. One confirmed infection in Hong Kong, one in Sweden, four in France—really? That’s the best you can do? You call yourself a pandemic? Not even close Swine Flu, and I’ll tell you your problem: You’re still thinking like an epidemic.
You got a foothold in New York, it’s true—your numbers are strong there, and they’re growing. I’m glad you understand the importance of getting your name out there in well-populated, panicky liberal areas. But you have to remember, those folks are also generally well-educated, and they learn quickly, which is not to your benefit. You should really start branching out to some more rural areas—places where a little suspicion and fear go a long way.
The name change, too—whose idea was that? Right in the middle of your launch into the realm of international recognition and fame—you swap the rock star moniker of “Swine Flu” for the deadly-dull and ultra-forgettable handle “H1N1”?! Really– what were you thinking? What was going through your mind when you decided to play the new-name game? You’re not Prince! You’re not even John Cougar Mellencamp! I’m telling you, switching up a classic, ominous name like Swine Flu for a letter/number combination—it’s crippled the rising careers of even bigger and deadlier viruses in their heydays. I would have fired my agent right then and there for even allowing me to consider the idea.
So here’s what we do, toots. We’ve got to get you back on track. I’m thinking a guest-star appearance or two. Strike down someone famous—but not too likeable; you want to keep public sympathy on your side. I’m thinking Kathy Griffin, or one of the Baldwin brothers. Keep working hard, keep your focus sharp, and you could be back on track in no time. Believe me, H1N1—you’re a real workhorse. And you’re going places.
I’m not sure how I feel about that new iPhone commercial. It’s kind of dark. You know the one I mean? Where there’s jangly guitar music, and they show a guy looking up ‘sushi’ on his iPhone, and it shows him a map to the closest sushi restaurant, and then he pauses, cancels the sushi map and types in ‘bridge’, and the iPhone shows him a map to the nearest bridge? And then the next shot is the guy standing on the bridge, and then he’s shown updating his facebook status to ‘single’ on his iPhone. And then he goes to Twitter and posts the update ‘I am on a bridge’. And then he puts the iPhone in his pocket and jumps off the bridge? And then the Apple logo comes up? I’m not sure how I feel about that ad.
Feeling guilty about the amount of bad energy you are releasing into the world every day with your terrible attitude and your evil deeds? You are right to feel bad—that energy is building up, gaining momentum, and breaking down the goodwill and kind actions of others. Your karmic footprint is growing increasingly negative with each snide remark you make, and thoughtless act you commit.
But fear not—as long as you have money, you can put things right again. Our new Karmic Offset program allows you to purchase good deeds to offset the cruel and mean ones you do every day. Our pricing is reasonable, and it ensures that your guilt is a temporary thing. In fact, you can atone instantly on our website using your Visa, American Express or Mastercard.
Push an old lady at the supermarket who was standing in the way of the probiotic yogurt? For only $75, a member of our staff will take a five year old girl out to ice cream—and for $85, we’ll even let her get rainbow sprinkles!
Cut someone off in traffic and give them the finger? Purchase $150 worth of good karma on our site and we’ll plant a bunch of daisies in front of an old folks’ home! Throw in an extra $25 and we’ll even smile and wave at the lonely residents as they watch us through the front window!
Karmic Offsets are the new and practical way for jerks like you to hypothetically atone for their unsavory actions without having to actually do anything—except spend!
If you’re not sure how bad your selfish action was, call our toll-free 800 number to describe it to a licensed karmic specialist. They’ll tell you exactly how much it will cost to take back whatever you did with cold hard cleansing cash.
Call now to start contributing good to make up for all of the awful things you do every day! For a reasonable sum, your influence in the world can be a positive one.
Is Basketball the one with the big round ball you aren’t supposed to kick?
MOLLY SCHOEMANN: I must admit, I was a little worried about filling in a bracket for the National Somethingball Championship Thing. But actually, it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be! It only took me a few minutes, and I’m told the fun will last a lifetime, which is about as long as your average college basketball game lasts, as far as I’m concerned. And not a fun lifetime, either. A lifetime spent feeling cold and hungry. A lifetime spent wearing wet pants.
But some people care. This is for those people, even though we probably wouldn’t be friends if we actually met. Here are my extremely well-researched and educated picks for the 2009 NCAA Bracket of Basketball Sport Playing:
Easty Like Sunday Morning
There are a lot of good teams in the East for sure. Many of them are overly tall—but they carry it well, and they know how to dress. I’m expecting big things from Pittsburgh, because folks owe me there. They know who they are and they know what they did. The Tennessee Volunteers are slated to do pretty well if enough of them show up this time. And who’s up for some steamy Longhorn on Gopher action? The fire and ice of Texas vs. Minnesota may not be appropriate for young viewers.
Midwest Shmidwest
The Cardinals are predicted to do a mighty victory dance on the bald noggins of the Morehead St. Eagles. I mean, have you SEEN the look on that Cardinal’s face? He has TEETH. He looks like he could cut a bitch, whereas the wussy Morehead Eagle just kind of struts around like he’s the BMOC. We’ll see about that, Eagle. We’ll just see. Meanwhile, fans have trouble even looking at the Utah “Runnin’ Utes” because they sound like some kind of unfortunate infection. Speaking of which, someone needs to put Arizona in its place, but no one can—it’s too big. Boston College is expected to do their best, so that even if they don’t win, they’ll know deep down inside that they tried. That’s what’s important!
Best Western
Watch out, Purdue Boilermakers! Don’t quit your day jobs. My vote is for the California Golden Bears, because they’re unstoppable at being cuddly. Also, blondes in the animal kingdom also have more fun. Still, I’d like to see the Northern Iowa Panthers go home with something, since they have to go home to Northern Iowa. The CSU Northridge Matadors should get points for chutzpah. Maybe someday they will play the Chicago Bulls. It seems only fair.
Going South
The Stephen F. Austin Lumberjacks are pretty good at cutting trees, but can they cut balls? The jury is still out. The Akron Zips and the Illinois Fightin’ Illini are in a dead heat for worst team name—but if they combine forces and become the Illikron Fightin’ Zips, they have a chance at signing a record deal as a Ska-Core band. As a North Carolina resident, I’ve got a feeling the Tarheels are going to have a great season from overhearing people talking about it in the breakroom at work. The Tarheels have a star player named Ty Lawson. I know this because he is on our state dollar bill.
Jillian and I took on abstinence vs. unwanted babies in this week’s Perpetual Post. Read her take on abstinence here.
MOLLY SCHOEMANN:
Surprise! Accidental pregnancies are the new planned pregnancies! And pregnant is the new successful.
Everybody loves surprises—and what could be more exciting than the surprise of life? Everybody loves life! And everybody LOVES babies. Need proof? Just look around you! Everyone’s got a cute little baby these days. What are you waiting for? A career?!
Nothing helps you find your place in the world quite like a baby. Not sure where you’re going in life? Feeling aimless, worried about the future, and unsure of what you really have to offer anyone? Drift around long enough in dead-end social circles and pursue enough unfulfilling, destructive relationships, and chances are, sooner or later you will either knock someone up, or get knocked up yourself—and, voila! Suddenly, you’re a parent! Instant purpose! Nobody can doubt that you’re important once you’ve had a baby. After all, babies are the future.
And really, what could be more of a blessing than a surprising new baby? Babies bring joy and sunshine into the lives of everyone around them. A baby can be a lot of work, but it can also bring families together, to say things like, “Who is going to take care of this baby?”, and “I guess you better drop out of school.” And who likes school anyway? Nobody cool! That’s right—have a baby, and you can quit school and sleep late every day!
Have trouble making friends or connecting with others? Parents don’t understand you? You better believe your new baby will!
Insecure about your relationship? Concerned that your boyfriend or girlfriend might be thinking of leaving you? Throw a baby in the mix, and you’ve got a recipe for lasting love. Nothing brings two dissimilar people closer or strengthens a tenuous relationship like a sudden influx of serious financial and emotional responsibilities. If your boy or girlfriend comes from a religious background, so much the better! To their families, an unexpected baby is God’s way of saying, “Get married right away.”
Think about it. Babies go with every outfit. And you can dress them up to look like a miniature version of yourself, just like the miniature version of you that they are sure to become when they grow up! Pierce baby’s ears, style baby’s hair, spend the money you earn at your part-time job to dress baby in the latest wee fashions. Clubs won’t let you in without a fake ID? Just show them your baby, and they’ll assume you must be old enough to drink! After all, you have a baby, don’t you?
You must have done something right, to end up with a baby.
The following statement was released from the owner and operator of Ski Land, which rented a Jet Ski to Chris Brown on Miami Beach last week. Find it on the Perpetual Post on Tuesday.
“Ski Land and its affiliates are extremely saddened and distressed by the way in which the Jet Ski we provided to Chris Brown made him appear to be enjoying himself in Miami last week. As the owner and operator of Ski Land, Miami’s premier Jet Ski rental facility, I would like to apologize for this oversight. It was never our intention to harm the reputation of a valued customer, and we are deeply sorry to have caused Chris Brown to suffer due to the reactions of those who saw him having fun while riding our Jet Ski.
Please remember that although the celebrated musical star may have seemed to be smiling while riding his Jet Ski, Ski Land and its affiliates did not intend for the exhilarating sensation of skiing on top of water to interfere in any public way with Chris Brown’s emotional state, which, surely, was one of great remorse and contrition, pending the outcome of his current situation.
In Chris Brown’s defense, in my ten years of owning and operating Ski Land, I have yet to see a customer who did not smile at least once while riding one of our fine Jet Skis. Chris Brown faced nearly insurmountable odds against not enjoying himself that sunny afternoon in Miami, particularly since his plans for the rest of the evening included drinking, partying, and other penitent activities which he was clearly looking forward to not enjoying due to his profound remorse.
It is our sincere hope that with the help of his pastor, who, according to the Brown’s legal team, was Jet Skiing alongside him, Chris Brown will be able to face the difficult times ahead, while perceptibly displaying what we all know are his true feelings of heartfelt sadness and regret.”
I took on Rachael Ray in last week’s issue of the Perpetual Post. In case you missed it, find it here, along with Akie’s rebuttal.
I Heard Tell 