February 21, 2007
News Item: Anna, Nicole Smith Die
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Anna and Nicole Smith died within moments of each other while vacationing in Las Vegas last week. The pair was inseparable, appearing side by side at countless gatherings over the years.
"They appeared swollen and bloated," said an emergency technician who arrived at the hotel they were staying at after being called by an alarmed employee.
"I remember when they were young," lamented their Mom, Vergie Arthur. "They were happy, bouncy, loveable. Men couldn't take their eyes off of them."
"I loved them both equally," said the lawyer Howard K. Stern. "They were larger than life." Among the men the pair were linked to were Prince Frederic von Anhalt, the husband of Zsa Zsa Gabor, who said he "loved both Zsa Zsas" and declined to comment further.
The ad man Jerry Della Femina, also linked with the pair, declined to comment except to say, "they were very generous. They would give you the shirt off their back."
News Item: Former NBA Player Reveals He is Gay
John Amaechi is the first National Basketball Association player to come out of the closet, and the announcement has caused the predictable furor. Amaechi is six-foot ten-inches and nearly 300 pounds. That's a lot of gayness. He's Sir Gay-A Lot. He's the Round Mountain of Gaity. He takes the words "Chocolate Thunder" to a whole new level. None of the other players knew, he said, but it seems to me when you put a 6-10, 300 pound guy in the shower room that's a lot of gay for such a little place.
At first, NBA players said the predictable things, like they would support a gay teammate. One thing you need to know about NBA players — almost all of them are stoned out of their minds. A typical NBA player wakes up, eats a big breakfast, smokes a bunch of the best pot money can buy, sleeps with a groupie, gets a tattoo on any open part of his body the needle can find, takes a nap, goes to the game, plays, smokes more dope, eats at one of the best restaurants in town, smokes more dope, sleeps with more groupies, and goes to sleep. Every guy in the league makes, like, $18 million. So when you ask an NBA player if he would mind if a teammate was gay they are like, "Whatever dude. Pass me the bong, I have a cheerleader waiting in the car."
Along comes Tim Hardaway, who was a very good basketball player in his day.
He doesn't like gay men at all. In fact, he hates them. And he wasn't shy about saying so on the air: "You know, I hate gay people, so I let it be known. I don't like gay people and I don't like to be around gay people. I am homophobic. I don't like it. It shouldn't be in the world or in the United States.''
Hardaway immediately became a leper. He was suspended from all league-related activity. He was pounded by the press. He is a pariah, an outcast for life.
No one will remember that during his 14-year career (he was an All Star five times) he donated $20 per assist to the American Cancer Society and the Cancer Caring Center. No one will remember he once flew 50 sick children (all stricken with cancer) to Sea World to tour the park.
Are you wondering why Amaechi decided to come out now? That's right — his new book is about to be released. So in essence, without even realizing it, Hardaway did exactly what Amaechi was hoping someone would do. In other words, it's not news that all the players who were asked said they don't have a problem with playing with a gay teammate, but it's front-page material when one guy says he has a problem.
Here's the funny thing: Hardaway played most of his career in San Francisco, the gay epicenter of the world, where he jumped around, writhed and sweated profusely in short pants in front of thousands of gay men almost every night for years.
"The last thing I want people to say on my tombstone is that I put a ball through a hole," Amaechi was quoted as saying in Sports Illustrated this week.
You can't make this shit up.
News item: Britney Shaves Head
OK, this is no coincidence. A few weeks after I announce I might shave my head, and now this little trollop shaves hers, making her scalp at least the second part of her body to be completely shaved. This comes right after she is photographed with no underwear on. Obviously, this ho is baiting me. Will I swallow the bait and rise to the challenge? Of course. I hereby announce my intention to shave my head — for charity. If I can raise $5,000 for the fine folks at RSVP, that is. My barber extraordinaire, Richard Ferrara of Springs, will donate his time, I'm sure. One more thang: Unless we can raise $5,000 to help save dogs before they are put down, my underwear comes off.
An anxious world awaits with baited (blood worms, I think) breath.
This is no hoax. Help save a dog and get to watch Rick publicly humiliate himself, and the donation is tax-free. See our "Shelter Stories" column on page B-10.