Star power

I bought a copy of Star magazine today. I bought it because Sarah Palin and her hot husband Todd the salmon fisherman were on the cover. It said something about a ring being thrown into Lake Lucille and I just thought, gee this must be breaking news and laid out the $4.00 to get the scoop. The world exclusive coverage of the ring toss story began on page 45 so I had to muddle through 44 pages of hard beach bodies, not so hard beach bodies, stay off of the beach bodies and please stay off the beach bodies. My journey:

If you are pregnant, great body or not, cover up your stomach. No one wants to look at your pasty white baby bump all veiny and blotchy with your navel becoming an out-ey when it started out as an in-ey. I don’t care that you have a gazillon dollars from doing nothing but parading around world famous beaches or dating someone that has their name on a building or a boat…they sell maternity bathing suits….trust me I’m still buying them and I’m not pregnant.

I don’t believe that you need to have plastic surgery to be beautiful. But, if you are already a beautiful woman like Padma of Top Chef fame, use a damn cover stick. Hell hire a make up artist. That seven inch scar down your right arm is alarming me. If it wasn’t a shark bite then what the hell was it from? Did a losing quick-fire chef chuck a meat clever at you? I was informed (thank you, Google) that it was the result of a car accident and that she wore her scar proudly because it meant she was alive. No….breathing means you are alive, invest in some makeup!

Will someone get Victoria Beckham a cheeseburger? Does she really think that those skeletal arms are gonna be able to hold on to hubby David Beckham when he realizes what a real woman’s arms are supposed to look like? And I don’t mean Madonna’s skinny old flab to muscle biceps…just ask A-Rod.

The Kardashian girl’s asses are of no interest to me. I am sure my son would disagree, I hear he is an ass man, but slap those babies back into some kind of holsters and hoist them back up where they belong. Bikinis, thongs…just ain’t working. Even American Tourister doesn’t make a trunk that could hold all that junk.

I have figured out the problem with Jennifer Aniston and her failed romances. She must be a bitch. And the same goes for Jessica Simpson. These women are drop dead gorgeous and linked with countless men but only for like a nano-second or two. Jennifer’s failures include the hottest men on the planet while Jessica’s taste seemed to have nose dived since the Lachey marriage went south. Note to Jessica….dating an ugly man is easy, keeping an ugly man should be a walk in the park, being dumped by an ugly man is makes you look like the Jackass. (think Knoxville)

Can someone tell Vanessa Hudgens (High School Musical) to keep her clothes on when there are cameras around. I caught my 7 year old grandson on the computer typing in the search box ‘hudgens nakid’. This is the second set of ‘oh my I am so embarrassed’ pictures that have surfaced of the Disney queen. Walt’s frozen head must be spinning.

Paula Abdul needs to pour some of what she’s been hiding in those Coke cups on Kara DioGuardi’s head. The new, young, more articulate addition to American Idol can’t hold a candle to Abdul’s rambling and repeatedly mind-numbing critique of the performers.

I don’t give a rats ass who Kate’s Jon dates or why he has put earring back in long forgotten holes, or that he decided this would be a good time to start smoking again. I equally don’t care who paid for Kate’s award winning most-stretched-skin-imaginable tummy tuck and in fact applaud her for not parading around the sand looking like a beached whale in search of a place to die.

Oprah fat, Oprah thin, Oprah fat and attractive, Oprah fat and ugly, Oprah thin and pretty. What the hell???! How does one human being go from one extreme to the other in the time it takes to print a magazine. And I am not buying the ‘Oprah Tops the Scales at 199‘...If she is under 200 I want her scale.

Stars then and Now. Don’t show me. I don’t want to know. If they have aged then so have I and as of this writing I am the same age I was when Melrose Place was on TV.

I finally arrive at the Palin story. Not as interesting as I thought. Marital bliss turned ugly. Not surprising though. If you name your kid Trig there is a problem. If you name your handicapped son Trig, bigger problem. Didn’t they think that kid was gonna have enough to deal with in his life and that saddling him with the name of a mathematic function was just plain wrong? Family name or not, try Bob or Sam next time. Of course the ‘source’ of the specifics is the…ok get this now….pay attention….the sister of the ex boyfriend and baby daddy of Bristol Palin who recently stretched his 15 minutes of fame to get him to the Teen Choice awards with Kathy Griffin who has officially sealed her fate with that date as the D-List celebrity I always knew she was. Breath…2, 3.…. OK so in the same article another Palin daughter, Willow is shown swigging vodka and smoking pot. Same source….the girl who creepily has her brothers name tattooed on her wrist. And we won’t even mention her mothers recent drug conviction. One last tip for the Palins, if you didn’t conceive your child at Woodstock you shouldn’t have named her Willow. How about Beth or Carol?