A few days ago, my co-blogger Ian Cooper turned the blogging world on its ear by revealing he would no longer blog about Britney Spears. Many were shocked, but I wasn't surprised. Mostly because I know Ian, and I dislike him intensely. We all do. (Well, in truth, just me. Swaim only hated Ian when he thought he was Black.)
But giving up Britney is typical Ian. It's just the kind of uppity stunt heâd pull to prove to heâs better than we are. The same way he showboats his comedic work ethic by bringing you three separate stories in his Unnecessary News Round Ups. Where I come from, thatâs too much work. One post. One joke.
But not to be outdone, I too will raise the bar to show I can bring the funny without resorting to easy stories. For example, TMZ is running a really juicy piece today about James Eckhouse. Yes thatâs right. Turns out that this balding
Well, I wonât blog about that. Too easy. Hereâs other things I vow never to blog about:
Any story involving Ian Ziering
Any story about Paul Giamattiâs thoughts on theater vs. cinema
Any story involving Raven Simone. Or if I do, I promise not to title it â_______âs, So Raven.â For example, if she were busted in a crackhouse, I might still blog about it, but I promise not to title the post âSmoking Crackâs SO Raven.â
Any story about a possible Small Wonder reunion show.
Any story about Pamela Anderson where it is somehow impossible to make a joke about her breasts.
Any story involving a Mexican boy who glues himself to a bed, and if I do, I wonât use this graphic:
Any story about Lindsay Lohan (Not the actress. I mean Lindsay Lohan the receptionist at Brickel Insurance in
___Gladstone writes for Cracked and others. Go to Wayne Gladstone Lives in Maine to see all his published stuff, links to his other worthless endeavors, and his full name and state of residence.
How did these hyper-specific tropes spread so quickly?
The Hollywood rumor mill has been playing games with celebrity deaths for at least a century.
Most rich kids just want to be pop stars.