Rod Stewart to Publish Children's Book

 Celebrities, Humor, Music, News of the Weird, Parody, Pop Culture, Tall Tale Tuesdays, Urban Myth  2 Responses »
Aug 232011
 

Rock star Rod Stew­art will pub­lish his first children’s book, Buck­ets of Fun, next week through Tiny Tat­tler Press, which con­tin­ues their series of books writ­ten by celebri­ties who have been the vic­tims of urban myth.

For years, rumors have sur­faced that Stew­art col­lapsed at an after con­cert party and was rushed to the emer­gency room, where doc­tors pumped any­where from a pint to 10 gal­lons of semen out of this stom­ach.  The story has also been attrib­uted to Elton John, David Bowie, and Mick Jagger–typically rock & roll singers from that gen­er­a­tion who were some­times crit­i­cized for being less than manly–but Stew­art seems to be the celebrity most often iden­ti­fied in the tale.

“I despise bad sci­ence,” Stew­art said.  “So when my daugh­ter Kim­berly came to me in tears and asked if the rumor was true, we put on match­ing white lab coats and went into the kitchen.  I set her up on the counter and gave her a tea­spoon and explained that the aver­age man will ejac­u­late only enough semen to fill half of that spoon, which I demon­strated with salad dress­ing.  Then I showed her how many tea­spoons it would take to fill a pint-sized shot glass, then a 10-gallon bucket.  It didn’t take long for my daugh­ter to do the math.”

“It’s hard enough for even adults to remem­ber how many pints are in a liter, let alone a child, so we feel this story is a per­fect way to teach tod­dlers about liq­uid con­ver­sion, as well as thwart bad sci­ence,” said Kiki Cum­mings, Pub­lisher of Tiny Tat­tler Press. “It also opens the door for par­ents to teach chil­dren at an early age that some peo­ple with funny hair­cuts do funny things in the bedroom–just not Rod Stew­art.  I mean, who knows what Brit­ney Spears gets up to!”

The book comes with a sippy cup shaped like a bucket with the dif­fer­ent liq­uid amounts marked on the sides, plus a car­i­ca­ture of Stew­art telling chil­dren via a car­toon bal­loon, “Bot­toms up!”

Next up, Tiny Tat­tler Press con­tin­ues the series with the release of Jamie Lee Cur­tis’ I Can Use Both Restrooms later this fall.

Why I Thought DeForest Kelly Was Gay

 Celebrities, Essays, Humor, Memory Mondays, Pop Culture  8 Responses »
Aug 012011
 

When­ever I see an old episode of Star Trek, I’m reminded of how often human beings judge one another, and often unfairly.  For years, I thought DeFor­est Kel­ley, who played Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy was a homo­sex­ual, because of a pub­lic­ity photo that I had seen when I was a kid.  In the pic­ture, Kel­ley wears a scarf tied around his neck.  It stuck out in my mind, because the only men I had ever seen wear any­thing around their necks were cowboys.

Years later, one of my teach­ers took sev­eral of us stu­dents to see a play at an exper­i­men­tal the­ater.  A large group of older peo­ple arrived after us and took up most of the remain­ing seats.  Many of the men wore scarves around their necks, like in Kelley’s pub­lic­ity photo.  My teacher spoke to one of the women who sat next to her on the right, and I heard her men­tion that they were with a gay & les­bian the­ater appre­ci­a­tion group.  Since the men from the gay the­ater appre­ci­a­tion group wore scarves around their neck, and Kel­ley did in his pub­lic­ity photo, I deter­mined that Dr. McCoy from Star Trek was gay, and filed that bit of infor­ma­tion away.

Shortly after I moved to my neigh­bor­hood, I vol­un­teered on our his­tor­i­cal com­mit­tee.  One of our mem­bers shared that DeFor­est Kel­ley had once rented her house before he became an actor.  (He was born in Toc­coa, Geor­gia, and grew up in the Atlanta area.)  “I’ve writ­ten to his wife, but she’s never returned my letters.”

“Really?” I said.  “I always thought that he was gay.”

“Why would you think that?” my neigh­bor asked.

And then I remem­bered that night at the the­ater and the pub­lic­ity photo.  When I arrived home, I searched the Inter­net for pub­lic­ity pho­tos of other male movie and tele­vi­sion stars.  I dis­cov­ered that in the ‘60s and ‘70s, male celebri­ties often were pho­tographed with scarves tied around their necks.  Evi­dently, they weren’t just for older gay the­ater enthu­si­asts.  I felt bad about mis­judg­ing some­one, based surely on cir­cum­stances, but peo­ple do it all the time.

When I had worked at an avi­a­tion insur­ance com­pany after col­lege, a co-worker told me that she thought my father must be a doc­tor.  When I asked her why she thought that, she told me, “Because you talk all edju­macated.”  Judg­ing from the way she mis­pro­nounced “edu­cated,” I assumed I prob­a­bly did sound a bit highbrow.

Also, when I was vaca­tion­ing in Aus­tralia in late Aus­tralia, Amer­i­can tourists would often come up to me and ask, “How do you Aus­tralians cel­e­brate Hal­loween?”  I politely explained that I, too, was Amer­i­can, but I asked them why they assumed that I was Aus­tralian.  “Well, you have blond hair and a ruddy com­plex­ion.”  One per­son even added, “You look like some­one who appre­ci­ates ABBA–and the Aus­tralians love ABBA.”  I never quite fig­ured that one out.

In my mind, I guess the need to make quick deci­sions about oth­ers goes back to evo­lu­tion.  Our ances­tors prob­a­bly had to deter­mine when they came face-to-face with another crea­ture, if the other ani­mal was big­ger than them and could eat them, or if they were big­ger than the other crea­ture and could eat them.  So, it’s prob­a­bly an instinc­tual sur­vival mech­a­nism.  Any­way, I decided that I was going to make a con­certed effort not to judge people.

Not long after that, I stopped by a Cari­bou Cof­fee one after­noon.  It wasn’t very busy, and as I waited in line, I noticed this young cou­ple star­ing at me.  From the way they were dressed, most peo­ple would have con­sid­ered them hip­sters.  The girl approached me as I added sweet­ener and milk to my coffee.

“My boyfriend and I couldn’t help notic­ing you when you walked in,” she said.  This struck me as odd, because the three of us were the only cus­tomers in the shop.  Not know­ing what to do, I flashed her an awk­ward smile.  “And we know two things about you.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes.”  She watched my fin­gers tear open a packet of sweet­ener and it to my cof­fee.  “You’re a very sen­sual per­son.”  Then she moved closer and looked me in the eye.  “And you’re com­ing home with us to have a wild three-way.”  The only sound was my hand rapidly mov­ing the plas­tic stir­rer around in my coffee.

“Well, you’re half-right,” I said, and left with my coffee.

As flat­ter­ing as it was to be asked to join a ménage à trois by hip­sters, I wasn’t sure if I was the big­ger ani­mal that could eat them, or if they were the big­ger ani­mal that could eat me.

Bet­ter safe, than sorry …

Top Ten Gidget Movies That Were Never Made

 Celebrities, Humor, Parody, Pop Culture, Top Ten Thursdays  No Responses »
Jul 212011
 

Grow­ing up in 1970s, my older sis­ter loved watch­ing all of the old Gid­get movies that reran again and again on tele­vi­sion.  Here is a list of the top ten Gid­get movies that should have been pro­duced, but–tragically–never were:

1. Gid­get Goes to A.A.

2. Gid­get Goes to The Isle of Lesbos

3. Gid­get Goes Commando

4. Gid­get Dis­cov­ers  Moon­dog­gie on the Down-Low

5. Gid­get Goes Through Gen­der Reas­sign­ment Surgery

6. Gid­get Goes to Thai­land Via the White Slave Trade

7. Gid­get Gives Birth to a Mixed Race Baby … Out of Wedlock

8. Gid­get Ver­sus Predator

9. Gid­get Goes to Death Row

10. Gid­get Goes Through Menopause

Starlet Stalks Former Stalker

 Celebrities, Crime, Humor, News of the Weird, Parody, Pop Culture, Tall Tale Tuesdays  1 Response »
Jul 192011
 

“It seems like just yes­ter­day I saw her in The Zom­bie Wore Go-Go Boots.” Joe Smithers stares into space, inter­mit­tently shak­ing his head and rub­bing his tem­ples. “She’s the one who first inspired me to stalk, and now … she’s gone. I just can’t believe it.”

The she in ques­tion is Bambi Dan­vers, a B-Movie dar­ling who was prone to stum­bling when being pur­sued by nin­jas, can­ni­bals, and the walk­ing dead, as well as her famous DD breasts that often popped out of her cos­tumes when she fell, most often when her movies were filmed in 3-D.

“Most peo­ple thought she was a bimbo,” Smithers said. “But I’ve gone through her trash many a time, and she uses Prepa­ra­tion H just like every­body else.” He grows quiet and smiles. “She liked smurfs. Did you know that?” He pauses again. “She also liked hot wax and hand­cuffs. They broke them mold when they made her.”

Dan­vers was dis­cov­ered when she was just 17, passed out in front of a UCLA frat house. “There was some­thing dif­fer­ent about her,” said Bar­ney Krunk­ite, her man­ager. “Some­thing whole­some and peace­ful about the way she looked, sleep­ing in her own vomit. I knew I had to sign her.”

Before the ink on her con­tract was dry, Krunk­ite landed her a role in The Wiener Dog That Ate South Beach. Demon­strat­ing an innate tal­ent for using her phys­i­cal and dra­matic assets in con­cert, she turned a few sec­onds of screen time as a top­less sun­bather who the mutant Dachs­hund chokes on into an iconic role that launched her career. “There was some­thing about the way she jig­gled while she deliv­ered her one line, ‘Mmmph! Mmmph!’”

“The night I watched Wiener Dog at the drive-in, I instantly felt a con­nec­tion,” Smithers said. I quit my job at K-Mart and hitch­hiked to L.A. so I could find her.” As Dan­vers made more appear­ances down on the red car­pet, she began to see a famil­iar face. “Sure, I may have fol­lowed her every­where, but I was always polite about it, I always called her ma’am. And when I broke into her house, I’d always wash dishes or do a load of laundry.”

At the peak of her career, just after Who Will Pole Dance for the Chil­dren, the true story of Amanda Har­ris, a strip­per who turned an uncon­ven­tional career into a min­istry to build orphan­ages in Cam­bo­dia, Dan­vers’ drug-dealer boyfriend, Eddie Rivera let him­self into her home to sur­prise her, and found Smithers in bed with her. “You know, if he had tied her up and, you know, had his way with her, I could deal with that–it’s nor­mal,” Rivera remem­bers. “But he was … cud­dling with her. It’s just not right!” Rivera called the cops and con­vinced Dan­vers to press charges. Smithers was put away for two years.

“I don’t blame her,” Smithers said. “Even though she told me, later, that she regret­ted it, I needed help. And she loved me enough to help me.” On his release, Smithers joined Stalk­ers Anony­mous and met Sally Bush, a for­mer Jonas Broth­ers stalker, and a whirl­wind romance ensued. “We had so much in com­mon, it just made sense to get married.”

Sally soon gave birth to twins and the fam­ily moved into a rental house in Orange County, near the smoothie shop that Smithers man­ages. “Our prune smoothie, The Reg­u­la­tor, is our biggest seller, because we’re just around the cor­ner from an assisted liv­ing facility.”

While Smithers’ star rose, Dan­vers’ fell. Her musical-martial-arts-serial-killer-legal-extravaganza, Chop Sue Me, tanked. Rivera had an aller­gic reac­tion to the drugs and was forced to move back home with his par­ents. Dan­vers suc­cumbed to real­ity TV, soft-porn, and even­tu­ally din­ner the­ater. Even­tu­ally, she ended up out­side the Smoothie Boothie that her for­mer stalker managed.

“At first, I was so scared I was going to fall back into my old ways,” Smithers said. “Even miss­ing a few teeth and with her boobs drag­ging the ground, she was still beau­ti­ful to me.” Smithers slipped her smooth­ies, but soon she began to fol­low him home. “Some­times I’d catch her stand­ing in front of the house in the rain, watch­ing us eat Sally’s meat­loaf. I would have invited her in to join us, by Sally’s a ter­ri­ble cook, and I just couldn’t do that to Ms. Dan­vers.” Instead, he’d invite her to sleep under his car­port and leave a pack­age of Pop Tarts on the back steps.

The last straw came when Sally came home from the gro­cery store to find Dan­vers had duct-taped her­self, naked, to their refrig­er­a­tor. “I came home right away and and had a heart-to-heart with Ms. Dan­vers. I told her that I loved, and even though it was the hard­est thing I’d ever done, I was going to prove it to her: I called the cops.”

Smithers still remem­bers their last exchange as she sat in the back of the patrol car. “She said, ‘You’re the only one who ever really cared, Joe. Promise me that you won’t for­get me.’ And I said, “Never, Ms. Dan­vers. No one will ever fill a pair of zombie-shredded hot pants like you.’ She smiled, and blew me an awk­ward kiss, because her hands were cuffed, and then they drove her to jail.”

When Smithers arrived to open Smoothie Boothie the next morn­ing, a police offi­cer was wait­ing for him. “So many peo­ple had beaten her down, she just didn’t have a the strength to carry on. She was a del­i­cate flower, the Eliz­a­beth Tay­lor of B-Movie films.” Some­time after 2:00 a.m., Bambi Dan­vers suf­fo­cated her­self with her own DD breasts and moved onto the next adventure.

“I like to think she’s in a bet­ter place,” Smithers says, sniff­ing and wip­ing away a tear. “Some place where angels or Smurfs chase her and make her fall down and her boobs fly out.” Smithers grins. “She’d liked that.”

What Is a Pop Culture Retard?

 Celebrities, Essays, Humor, Music, Pop Culture, Television, Video  No Responses »
Jul 182011
 

I rarely watch tele­vi­sion.  I sel­dom lis­ten to the radio.  I almost never read the news­pa­per.  Iron­i­cally, my Bachelor’s is in radio/television pro­duc­tion.  This can, how­ever, leave me out of the loop when it comes to what­ever is going on in pop culture.

When I was in my early 20s, my friend Susan’s mother was very con­cerned that I didn’t watch tele­vi­sion.  I couldn’t even tell you the names of most of the shows on tele­vi­sion, let alone what night and time they came on TV.  Like­wise, I rarely heard any new pop­u­lar songs, unless they were played in the clubs that I hung out at on weekends.

In the Spring of 1992, I worked in a call cen­ter in Grand Prairie, Texas.  One after­noon I heard my co-worker talk­ing about Sir Mix-A-Lot’s cur­rent hit, “Baby Got Back.”  I kept hear­ing every­one men­tion that title and laugh­ing, so I leaned over the wall of my cubi­cle and asked my co-worker, “So, what’s the deal with ‘Baby Got Back’?  I mean, where did she go, anyway?”

My co-worker threw her head back and laughed like one of the char­ac­ters in a Char­lie Brown TV spe­cial.  If you’re not famil­iar with the song, watch the video that I pasted below.  It should explain everything.

"(I'll Never Be) Maria Magdalena" by Sandra

 80s, Celebrities, Flashback Fridays, Music, Pop Culture, Retro, Synth-Pop, Video  No Responses »
Jul 152011
 

San­dra Lauer started her musi­cal career in 1979 as the lead singer for Ger­man disco trio Arabesque.  Although the group achieved great suc­cess in Japan and Rus­sia, sub­stan­tial suc­cess at home alluded them.  After the group broke up, San­dra began a solo career with her boyfriend, Michael Cretu, pro­duc­ing.  They used the singing and writ­ing tal­ents of Hubert Kemm­ler, who recorded under the name Hubert Kah, with most of her mate­r­ial includ­ing a call-and-response between San­dra and Kemmler

“(I’ll Never Be) Maria Mag­dalena” or “Maria Mag­dalena” was released in March of 1985.  The song topped the charts in Ger­many and 20 other coun­tries and the top ten in five other coun­tries.  At the time, San­dra out­sold Madonna and was nick­named the “Pop Princess.”  San­dra went on to release 18 Top 20 hits between 1985 and 1992.

The song was remixed in a techno style in 1993 to pro­mote her sec­ond com­pi­la­tion, 18 Great­est Hits, and again in 1999 to mar­ket her remix/ballad col­lec­tion, My Favourites.

San­dra and Cretu mar­ried in 1988 and even­tu­ally embarked on a musi­cal col­lab­o­ra­tion that was quite dif­fer­ent from Sandra’s solo synth-pop.  In late 1990, Enigma released “Sade­ness [Part I],” which included Sandra’s breathy vocals mixed with Gre­go­rian chants.  The song is spo­ken and sung in French and Latin, basi­cally ask­ing the Mar­quis de Sade to explain his sex­ual desires.  At the time, it was a far cry from Wil­son Phillips.

 

Ver­sions

(I’ll Never Be) Maria Mag­dalena 4’00

Party Games [Instru­men­tal] 3’21

(I’ll Never Be) Maria Mag­dalena [Extended Mix] 7’12

 

1993 Remixes

(I’ll Never Be) Maria Mag­dalena ’93 [Radio Edit] 3’58

(I’ll Never Be) Maria Mag­dalena ’93 [Club Mix] 6’01

 

1999 Remixes

(I’ll Never Be) Maria Mag­dalena ’99 [Orig­i­nal Ver­sion] 3’58

(I’ll Never Be) Maria Mag­dalena ’99 [Remix Ver­sion] 3’59

 

Music Video

The music video fea­tures San­dra singing in front of her back­ing band. She sways, she closes her eyes, she flicks her pony­tail around. Above all else, she looks beau­ti­ful. The gui­tar player is actu­ally lip-syncing to Hubert Kah’s vocals.

Like most Amer­i­cans, I had never heard of San­dra, even though she was as big as Madonna–or even big­ger, in some parts of the world. My first rec­ol­lec­tion of San­dra is her Amer­i­can and British com­pi­la­tion, Ever­last­ing Love. Her cover of Robert Knight’s “Ever­last­ing Love” had already been a hit in Ger­man and Europe, but was remixed by PWL Stu­dios (famous for Dead or Alive, Hazel Dean, Divine, Bana­narama, Mel & Kim, etc.). I actu­ally picked up a used copy of the album while brows­ing through Half Price Books in Fort Worth. My inter­est was piqued when I read that Hubert Kah–whom I was famil­iar with for his sin­gle “Angel 07″ from 1986–sang backup vocals on the album, and since I remem­bered the PWL remix of “Ever­last­ing Love,” I decided to take a chance on it.

“(I’ll Never Be) Maria Mag­dalena” has that Ger­man synth-pop sound that I like so much: brash, pre­cise, and math­e­mat­i­cal. I remem­ber being sur­prised that San­dra had such a high-pitched voice, but her songs always had some lyri­cal bit that would pull me in, such as:

Why must I lie
Find ali­bis
When will you wake up and real­ize
I can’t sur­ren­der to you
Play for affec­tion and
Win the prize
I know those party games too

Over the next few years, I col­lected most of her albums, but her music matured after the release of the first few Enigma albums, shift­ing from synth-pop to a more mel­low sound.

"Valley Girl" by Frank Zappa & Moon Zappa

 80s, Celebrities, Flashback Fridays, Humor, Music, Parody, Pop Culture, Retro, Video  2 Responses »
Jul 012011
 

Released in the Sum­mer of 1982, “Val­ley Girl” is a col­lab­o­ra­tion between Frank Zappa and his daugh­ter, Moon Unit.  Although the older Zappa had only intended to lam­poon the Val­s­peak of the teenage girls in the San Fer­nando Val­ley, the song became his biggest hit, peak­ing at #32 on the Bill­board Hot 100.

Moon wrote the mono­logue that she deliv­ers over Frank’s music.  Her sharp obser­va­tions of the peo­ple in Encino belied the fact that she was only 14 at the time.

When the song was fin­ished, Moon told her father that it would be a hit.  Frank didn’t believe her, but released the song as a sin­gle, any­way.  It was a pleas­ant surprise.

Moon did not con­sider her­self a Val.  She said in inter­views that she pre­ferred to spend her time at the beach–not shop­ping malls.

 

Ver­sions

Val­ley Girl [7″ Ver­sion] 3’47

Val­ley Girl [Album Ver­sion] 4’59

 

Music Video

There’s no offi­cial music video for “Val­ley Girl,” but I have embed­ded a per­for­mance by Moon Zappa on syn­di­cated vari­ety show, Solid Gold.  Do you remem­ber the Solid Gold Dancers?  I can remem­ber watch­ing this per­for­mance on tele­vi­sion.  I didn’t even know what Moon looked like before then.

I can remem­ber going com­pletely quiet the first time I heard this song, because I didn’t know quite what to make of it.  When it faded out, I started laugh­ing.  Of course, I had to tape it off the radio onto a cas­sette.  (Remem­ber those?)  I played it over and over.  And then every teenage girl I knew began say­ing, “Gag me with a spoon!” It lasted well into the Autumn of ’82.

What are your mem­o­ries of  “Val­ley Girl” by Frank Zappa & Moon Zappa?

What Did That @#%*ing Connie Chung Do?

 Celebrities, Essays, Friends, Humor, Memory Mondays, Pop Culture  3 Responses »
May 092011
 

Some­one should coin a word or term that describes the feel­ing when you’ve been laugh­ing and catch­ing up with your best friend, and then you remem­ber he’s dead.

Oh … this is a dream, I thought. Damn!

And then I woke up. I hate when that happens.

I lay in bed, my body feel­ing heav­ier than nor­mal, as the last traces of his pres­ence seeped away, like a piece of choco­late melt­ing on the tongue. And then he was gone.

I couldn’t recall any­thing that we had talked about in the dream, yet he seemed to be an archi­tect for the orga­ni­za­tion I work for, which doesn’t have any­thing to do with archi­tec­ture. Even though we seemed to have gig­gled over the stu­pid stuff we used to do as kids, there was a seri­ous­ness about him that was unusual.

I have no idea why I dreamed about Kent. Nor­mally, what­ever I dream about cor­re­sponds to some­thing I thought about, heard about, or saw the pre­vi­ous day; it’s like my brain flushes itself and these bits and pieces dis­ap­pear into the sew­ers of my dream state. How­ever, I didn’t recall think­ing about Kent or being reminded of him by any­thing. Yet as I type this, I real­ize that the dream occurred the night before the Kylie Minogue con­cert. Kent and Kylie share the same birth­day, includ­ing the year, which is the only rea­son I remem­ber it. Their birth­day is com­ing up on May 28. Kylie will be–and Kent would have been–forty-three.

Has Kent really been dead 10-years?

For the longest time, I would think of some­thing I had to tell him, and then I would remem­ber that he was dead. I waited over a year before I deleted his e-mail address from my address book. What’s the proper eti­quette for unfriend­ing and unfol­low­ing those who have passed on to the grave? It’s really odd, isn’t it? It seems like if we just hold on, we might get a super­nat­ural sta­tus update or a tweet from beyond … or a res­ur­rec­tion, perhaps.

I was sort of in a funk Fri­day morn­ing, until I remem­bered the time when Kent and I shared an apart­ment with our friend Duane. We were sit­ting on the futon, watch­ing tele­vi­sion, and a com­mer­cial came on for jour­nal­ist Con­nie Chung’s TV program.

“I @#%*ing hate Con­nie Chung!” Ken yelled. His body shook with fury. The moment before, we had all been laugh­ing, and the out­burst came of nowhere. Duane and I exchanged a silent look, then Kent returned to his nor­mal, jovial self. Nei­ther Duane or I delved fur­ther into Kent’s erup­tion. After the moment passed, I for­got about it.

When I received the phone call that Kent had been killed, I remem­ber sit­ting down and try­ing to process the unbe­liev­able. My friend Jeff was there, and he sat down beside me. I’d had a pre­mo­ni­tion the week before. The last time I saw him, I warned him to be care­ful. I just sat there, quiet, and then I burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Jeff asked.

“I never did find out what that @#%*ing Con­nie Chung did …”

“What does Con­nie Chung have to do with any­thing?” Jeff eyed me sus­pi­ciously, like I was on the verge of hys­te­ria and he might have to slap me.

I sighed and mus­tered up a smile. I could have explained the whole story, but instead, I just said, “This is just the way the peo­ple from Texas grieve.”

Jeff didn’t have any fur­ther questions.

Hollywood Hustler Finally Outs SpongeBob SquarePants

 Celebrities, Humor, Parody, Pop Culture, Television, Theoretical Thursdays  4 Responses »
Apr 212011
 

Brick John­son, a pop­u­lar Los Ange­les male escort, told weekly tabloid The Dirt Also Rises that he has been involved in a homo­sex­ual rela­tion­ship with car­toon char­ac­ter Sponge­Bob SquarePants for the past year.

“We met in a dive bar on the edge of West Hol­ly­wood, Flot­sam and Jet­sam. I wasn’t look­ing to turn a trick that night, but when I saw Sponge­Bob across the dance floor, I sud­denly craved salt water,” John­son said. “Of course, when I saw SpongeBob’s eyes bug out about six inches from his face and his tongue fall out on the floor, I knew the feel­ing was mutual.”

The chem­istry between the two was so pal­pa­ble that the Nick­elodeon star asked the well-built hus­tler to come home with him. John­son did.

“In this line of work, you get used to see­ing the kinky stuff, but I wasn’t pre­pared for what Sponge­Bob wanted me to do.” Johnson’s hand shook as he tossed back the rest of his scotch. “Sponge­Bob stripped and knelt down. He looked up and said, ‘Pee on me.’ I hes­i­tated, but he got in my face and screamed at me to pee onto him … so I did.”

How­ever, once Sponge­Bob was heav­ily sat­u­rated with Johnson’s urine, he pulled out a roll of Bounty paper tow­els and demanded to know from John­son whom the quicker picker upper was. When pressed about SpongeBob’s pref­er­ences in bed, John­son remained mum, but did share that his nick­name for Sponge­Bob was “Bikini Bot­tom.” The cel­e­brated car­toon char­ac­ter also hid a fond­ness for eat­ing snails off of Johnson’s naked behind, while singing “Gary, Indi­ana” from the musi­cal The Music Man.

“Some­times when we were hav­ing sex, he’d call me Patrick, which was a mood killer.” John­son said that he never felt that SpongeBob’s best friend and neigh­bor ever liked him. “It was like he didn’t think I was good enough for SpongeBob–or he was jeal­ous, or something.”

In addi­tion to being quite gen­er­ous, John­son revealed that Sponge­Bob was not only highly intel­li­gent, but an affec­tion­ate lover. “When we held each other in bed, after­wards, Sponge­Bob would fan­ta­size about lead­ing a life like ordi­nary peo­ple, where he and I could walk down the street, hold­ing hands, and invite their neigh­bors and friends over for, you know, bar­be­cues and orgies and stuff.”

John­son states that SquarePants desired to come clean about his life, but Nick­elodeon kept remind­ing him to think about his fans, the role model didn’t want to let the chil­dren down. “I think that’s what drove him to drink and start using drugs.”

In addi­tion to sub­stance abuse issues, Sponge­Bob was also haunted by the ghost of a for­mer love. “Sponge­Bob used to really big into the repressed gay spa sub­cul­ture,” John­son said. “Although he never came out and said it, I think John Tra­volta broke his heart, and Sponge­Bob never got over that. He refused to ever let me play the Grease sound­track in his presence.”

Even­tu­ally, booze, drugs, and the shadow of a for­mer lover proved too much for John­son to take. “I wished things could have ended dif­fer­ently,” John­son rem­i­nisces. “I still love Sponge­Bob, and the times we took baths together and Sponge­Bob exfo­li­ated me are mem­o­ries that I’ll always cherish.”

Dolly Parton Reinvents Herself as Lady Tata

 Celebrities, Humor, Music, Parody, Pop Culture, Tall Tale Tuesdays  No Responses »
Apr 192011
 

It’s hard to keep a good blonde down, espe­cially when she’s singer, song­writer, multi-instrumentalist, actress, and author Dolly Par­ton.  At an age when most female per­form­ers’ shelf lives have already expired, Par­ton still records and tours.  How­ever, in a move that has taken every­one by sur­prise, Par­ton will no longer per­form under the name Dolly Par­ton; she is now Lady Tata.

“Well, times change, and we have to keep up with those times,” Lady Tata revealed at a press con­fer­ence out­side a Nashville Waf­fle House.  “And artists have to stay in step with those changes or be left behind–and I’ve never been known for my behind.”

Over the past few months, Lady Tata has col­lab­o­rated with Tim­ba­land, RedOne, Greg Kurstin, Max Mar­tin, and “Weird Al” Yankovic for her first new album of orig­i­nal music since 2008, and ten­ta­tively titled Tit for Tat.  “You know, I just wanted to try some­thing dif­fer­ent,” Lady Tata said, as she rolled up her sleeve to reveal a col­or­ful tat­too of a busty skele­ton.  “I’ve been work­ing the female imper­son­ator style for the past decade, and some­thing edgier appealed to me, and I’ve enjoyed watch­ing what Lady Gaga has done in her music videos and concerts.”

Still, Lady Tata has not lost her trade­mark sense of humor.  She played some tracks from the new album:  “This Blonde’s Goin’ Out (But It Ain’t to No Pas­ture),” “Nothin’ a Wig Won’t Fix,” “I Wanna Sop You Up with My Last Bis­cuit,” “When the Bra Comes Off (I’m in for the Night),” and “I Hold the Sta­ple Gun (So I Call the Shots).  When asked if the rumor was true that she will per­form a blue grass infused hip hop ver­sion of Two Live Crew’s “Me So Horny” with the Pigeon Forge Retired Vol­un­teer Firemen’s band, The Bugle Boys, on her T.T.F.N. (Tata for Now) Tour.  “Wait and see, boys, wait and see.”

Other scut­tle­butt states that she will make her appear­ance on stage via a a giant ani­ma­tronic cow that gives birth to her.  When asked if she would eat the after­birth, Lady Tata responded in true Par­ton fash­ion.  “No, honey, I can’t afford the Weight Watch­ers points, so I’ll just chuck into the audience.”

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