Hold On, Gary

Picture it: Kelly Osbourne, driving in the rain. She's alone. It's dark. It's stormy. And so forth. Suddenly... there! Off to the side of the road! What is it? Kelly squints, piggy little eyes straining to see through the rain and the oily shush-skree-thump of the windshield wipers. It looks like... Ohmi-bluddy-fucking-gawd! It's an SUV! And it's... upside down!

And now reports praising the "heroic" and "quick thinking" Ms. Osbourne abound (she helped the barely injured driver out of the wreck and dialed 911)--confirming, as I've long suspected, that the whiny, wannabe dish-rag does indeed employ the same publicist who invented other such brilliant prob- able bullshit as Justin Timberlake butchly foiling an attempted purse-snatching with fancy ninja moves a while back (and who also probably said something like, "I don't care how gross you think it is, kid; when the shirt rips off, you pretend you like boobies, you got that?" to him before the Super Bowl).

He should get a raise. That's all I'm saying.

And I think I was planning to pursue the issue of how wonderful my warm, runny adulation would look splattering across crazy sexy Vanilla Ice's sexy crazy chest--but that horrific vision of Gary Coleman wriggling above the deep fryer still haunts my more reflective moments, urging me to reach out and somehow make the tragic Lilliputian understand that Vanilla, although sexy, sexy, sexy, was seriously the fuck out of line, and that there are billions of people who don't necessarily think Gary Coleman's entirely a joke--who support and appreciate him as a human being--and therefore please, baby, put the fucking razor blade down and GET HELP.... But don't quote me on that.

Picture it: Frances Bean, backstage at the Grammys, crying, "Mommy, where were you? I couldn't find you, Mommy," exactly like that fat little blond girl from Poltergeist who gets sucked into the television and who eventually developed some bizarre colonic blockage and exploded in real life or whatever, because Courtney, yes, lost her for a spell. (That woman couldn't keep it together with scotch tape and staples.) And now there's a warrant out for her arrest, as she seems to have--ooops!--missed her long-awaited court date. Her attorney asked that she please be excused from the proceedings, as she's currently suffering from a case of vague "security concerns." The attorney that isn't currently also suing her for back payment, you understand. And no one has a clue what he's talking about.

God, I love Poltergeist.

adrian@thestranger.com