The Bossanova Burnout

The Roadrunner gods have frowned upon me the last day or two, effectively preventing me from sharing with you every titillating detail of my unemployed life. Fortunately, not much to report. (Imagine that.) I mean, I made chili yesterday. And it was good and I ate some and then I ate some more today. I drank some water. Then I fed Bruce Campbell and cleaned his cage. And I watched a little Oprah on the telly. What was I thinking, these days are crazy with activity. I thought some more about the Fat Lady in Hollywood phenomenon. Here's what I decided: Instead of Jenny Craig and TrimSpa and E! helping these morbidly obese and moderately famous chicks make money by sweating their lard asses off on TV, why don't they just go get the goddamn lipo, maybe do a great little prime time special a la Tom Green with his testicle thing, AND THEN...(and this IS the best part)...they can sell the fat to a niche soap manufacturing company to make Celebrity Fatass Soap! Imagine! You could lather up with a little Ode de Anna Nicole Smith! You could get naked with Kirstie! Be dirty with Courtney Love! Oh my god. Fuck StarStrings, this is StarSoap.


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