He's published other weird nudie books too, you know. And he's 73, for Christ's sake. The shadow of a photo of a fat chick could kill him. And I can say fat chick as much as I please. I was one. In high school. Faggot.
In other fat chicks: Val Kilmer, who you might remember from him trying really hard to be Johnny Depp, was, indeed, peeing at a urinal in the men's room at some restaurant when a random guy suddenly perched at the urinal directly beside him and presumed to pee also. This riveting series of events took a tumescent turn when the second pee-er checked out, and subsequently recognized, the first pee-er and remarked, "You can be my wing man anytime." Tom Skerritt could not be reached for comment.
What?
Actually, Tom Skerritt probably could be reached for comment, I just didn't try to reach him. He just lives, like, across the street or something. And I always forget that he was also in Steel Magnolias. Isn't that peculiar? Shirley, Dolly, and Olympia, I remember, but never Tom Skerritt. (Or Julia Roberts.) Oh, and Val Kilmer looked at that other peeing dude and replied, "No… you can be MY wing man." And everybody laughed and that was that. Supposedly.
Next: "They are interested in fat liberation," is how that little bugger Leonard Nimoy describes the large women posing for his dirty new book. Why anyone would want to liberate fat is not readily apparent. Updates as the blubber unfolds.
Lastly: All those rumors that Bruce Willis yanked down Lindsay Lohan's britches to expose her perky fanny to "see her tattoo" probably aren't true, and all those rumors that Paula Abdul is facing possible criminal charges for a hit-and-run accident she allegedly committed in her alleged Benz probably are. But all those rumors that Kelly Osbourne, who is rivaled in charm and appeal only by the poop of homeless people, will be lurking around town (especially the gay bars) more than usual this week definitely are true, so circle your wagons and bury your vittles.
Send! adrian@thestranger.com
