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Celebrity I Saw U

by Adrian Ryan

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Fun with Fiber

Macaulay Culkin was recently given the choice to, or to not, testify on behalf of Michael Jackson. To not testify was clearly the most karmically advantageous option, and so thusly he chose; which does nothing if not confirm my most creepiest suspicions beautifully. (Michael used to have Macaulay over to the ranch for regular slumber parties, you know. That shit's just common knowledge.) Macaulay, who is rumored to have been some sort of child star a long time ago, but hasn't been jailbait since at least 1999, has a spectacular ass.

You saw Party Monster. You know all about it. Word.

In even more spectacular asses: I'm only going to say this once: Hal Sparks, for those tragic ingrates who've dared feign ignorance on the matter, first snagged my attention as the adorable host of some show on Comedy Central or something called Talk Soup or something that I haven't watched even once since he quit to star on Queer as Folk instead (American version), and which they say is now hosted by some dude from Seattle who also played the snotty bank manager in Spider-Man 2. (Talk Soup, not Queer as Folk.) Hal hosted his entire final Talk Soup remarkably naked, a historic, shorts-tenting hallmark of inappropriate television. Today, Hal lives on VH-1. Look. He's probably quipping about some random shit like Rubik's Cubes or Smurfs or something at this very moment. And the smiley little bugger is precious.

Now you know.

Elsewhere, in more gubernatorial issues: Regarding the inaugural ball of Christine Gregoire (in your fucking FACE, Dino Rossi!), someone recently reported, "I did get to shake hands with Krist Novoselic. He is partners with… a very cool fiber artist, so I got to have a fun chat with her about Wonderbread and fiber art."

Fun with fiber. That's what it's all about here at CISU. Fun with fiber, and spectacular ass.

In continuing inaugural fluff: "Well, that's state budget cuts for you" or something was what Krist is reported to have remarked when it was noted that the swinging inaugural band was composed of a keyboard player, a lead guitarist, and a conspicuous lack of bass. Nirvana notwithstanding, this alleged quip was, of course, retarded. Also, before we depart inaugural balls completely, there was beer, and it was Miller.

Lastly, Brad and Jen broke up, and I just can't fucking face it. Shut up. Stop looking at me.

Send! adrian@thestranger.com