It's heartening to know that unless my plan for a sitcom about Jerry Falwell and a large gay man living together in a New York City apartment (working title is Bear With Me
) takes off, I'll never be famous enough for someone to pose as my grieving father when I die.
Sadly, Heath Ledger cannot say the same. Both because he's ceased that particular oral function, and because some douche posed as his grieving father
The worst part is, given all of the doors opened to the grieving father of a dead celebrity, what does this fucker do?
Calls John Travolta and talks him into buying him a plane ticket to the U.S.
Calls Tom Cruise and receives âmoral support.â
Calls the funeral home where Ledgerâs funeral is going to be and talks them into booking him rooms at a nearby luxury hotel.
Calls the doctor who performed Ledgerâs autopsy. Asks for nothing. Just chats. About Heath Ledgerâs autopsy.
Itâs surprising that no one questioned his identity sooner, until you realize that, Like Ledgerâs father, the con man had a British accent, which Americans find irresistible.
But considering the vital piece of information that Ledgerâs real father was a racecar driver
, I find this con manâs actions decidedly boring. If youâre going to plumb the depths of indecency, at least be ridiculous about it. Imagine how much more he could have asked for, given the same schedule of phone calls: