Oh, Ashton. Forgive me. I swallow every word. I recant, I relent, and I'm reneging as we speak. Look at me--reneging. Oh, how I renege. I'm the renegiest reneger ever to renege. There, now. See? How could I stay angry at you? And for trash-talking the paparazzi, may their filthy Di-murdering souls fester in the wretched bowels of some rather large, wretched-bowel-yaz thing, for god's sake? Fuck those vultures. I will too write about you, beautiful you, gorgeous you--as much as I want, at length and in spades, till death do us part, amen.
Except this week.
Let's clear up these faux-Bono shenanigans (or "fauxbonanigans") once and for the fuck all. Remember? The Bono impersonator spotted all over hell's breakfast? All these people were like, "Adrian, Adrian! Bono from the U2 or whatever was at the Austria vs. the "Clinton" Globe- trotters United soccer thingy or whatever played at that damn Seahawks Stadium that nobody but loafer-wearing idiot sales managers and sucking, ass-nosed mid-level politicians supported but that the taxpayers are picking up the check for anyway or whatever," right? And then some other people were all like, "Duuude, that Bono was bogus, he's part of some celebrity-impersonator team or whatever, blah blah blah," right? Then all that crap went down with people seeing the now allegedly ersatz Bono (and what the fuck kind of name is "Bono," anyway? Say it a few times, it loses its meaning... Bon-o... Boooonnnn-oooooo) at a Seattle Storm game--which we won't get into on account of this shtick getting really old--and then this one guy, identifying himself only as "Ty R.," popped up and claimed to BE the fake Bono and offered www.entco.com/lookalikes.htm#bono as proof, but this story is running and running like the eyes of some fly-bitten bloat-belly from a sad, sad Sally Struthers commercial. Right? Right. I don't remember either.
What were we just talking about?
Did I forget to tell you that Enrique Iglesias had that sexy Latin mole of his cruelly lasered from that scrumptious little Latin head of his (despite the petition I started); that a friendly TV star's mother (for Christ's sake) made a Thai porno movie (said TV star can take consolation in her hot, hot, hot husband, burying her tear-stained face in his abs); that Nicole Kidman just admitted to having sexual relations with rap-person Q-Tip; that Winona Ryder is fronting a campaign to save the West Memphis Three (convicted of murdering a young boy in a Satanic ritual); and that somehow, it all just makes sense?
It's a beautiful world.
