Rightfully So

Ringo Starr released a new album entitled Liverpool 8 this week. Ringo is widely known as the fourth most talented Beatle and the second most alive.

Pakistani President Musharraf today announced the findings of his investigation into the death of opposition leader Benazir Bhutto at an election rally in Rawalpindi on December 27. Wearing his “What, Me Worry?” t-shirt and novelty glasses with the eyes that dangle on the end of springs, Pakistan’s General of the Army, President-for-Life and Keeper-of-the-Supply-Cabinet-Key gave the following statement to reporters:

“It is with great sadness that I announce the findings of our inquiry into the (giggling) untimely death of Ms. Bhutto last month. After reviewing all the forensic evidence and interviews with nearly two whole witnesses, we believe Ms. Bhutto died not from the explosion that killed twenty other people around her, or hitting her head on the roof of her motorcade. No, Benazir Bhutto succumbed to boredom.”

After several moments of open-mouthed disbelief, reporters gathered themselves to question the President about his findings. “Sir, how is this even possible? Are you saying the suicide bomber had nothing to do with the Bhutto’s death?”

“To be sure, it is an unfortunate coincidence,” Musharraf replied. “It is entirely possible that, had she not died of ennui, Ms. Bhutto would soon have been ripped to shreds by the cowardly explosion that I can assure you I had nothing…NOTHING to do with. However, it is beyond a shadow of a doubt that she had already been dead for several minutes before the explosion. The only reason she was even seen standing up in her car was because she had been propped up by supporters who wanted to make it look as though she were still alive. Much like that hilarious movie “Weekend at Bernies,” only, you know, with a tragic bombing at the end.”

“Mr. President, why would anyone do such a ridiculous thing?”

“To continue their insidious plot against me!” Musharraf said in an eerie German accent. “Bhutto’s followers knew without her they would be powerless. They planned to keep up this charade as long as necessary, like those guys in New York who took their dead friend to the bank in a wheelbarrow so they could cash his check. Only, you know, in this case a delicate house of international diplomatic cards that could plunge the world into a terrorist nightmare is at stake instead of some bums looking to score beer money.”

“But sir, boredom?”

“Indeed. And here is the proof!” With a flourish, President Musharraf pulled a piece of paper from his sleeve like a magician. “Here, in her own handwriting, is Ms. Bhutto’s final note, written just before she died. ‘Dear Everyone: I am so totally bored. This whole thing about returning from exile to bring a hope of Democracy back to my beloved homeland and remove this tyrant from power is actually kind of dull. I’m feeling rather blase about it, like I might die. In fact, Musharraf is rather awesome. You should let him do whatever he wants.’ Signed, “Bubbles.”

“Bubbles?”

“Yes, Bubbles.”

“Sir, what about the blood that was washed from the scene before investigators could arrive? Is that illegal breach of criminal protocol going to be addressed? Will anyone be punished?”

“The blood had to be removed immediately. The government had recently received word that a swarm of, um, blood…liking…mutant-things was near by. If the blood had been allowed to remain, everyone there would have risked being attacked by a pack of space-trolls that would have devoured their faces with giant teeth that grow out of their foreheads.”

“Trolls? I thought you said mutants.”

“Mutant trolls, that is correct.”

Before any more questions could be asked, President Musharraf disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Some really flattering pictures of Ms. Lohan over at Lindsay Lohan is Such a Modest Girl.

Maybe it’s because I’m not a celebrity, but I think I’d show a little more restraint. Plus, that dude looks pretty rough, I’d think she’d be able to do better.

Cursed with a hillbilly pixie for a mother and a father who resembles a young Reverend Jim from “Taxi” without the verbal eloquence, young Sean Preston Federline Spears Rodham-Clinton McGillicuddy has been placed on 24 hour suicide watch by Child Protective Services.

“This child is at severe risk for depression, paranoia and low self-esteem,” said local CPS director Shiela Comgrabya. “When he starts to become aware of who he is, who his parents are and what his life is going to be like, we’re going to have a hard time keeping him from putting a gun in his mouth. If he lives to see second grade it will be a miracle, and not just because he’s inherited both parents’ tendency toward severe mental retardation.”

Some say the suicide watch is premature. “No one thought little Frances Bean Cobain was going to kill herself when she grew up and realized she was Courtney Love’s daughter,” says a Federline-Spears insider who wished to remain nameless. “Although Frances was probably smarter than Courtney by the time she was four, so she could probably handle it.”

So far, Comgrabya says the suicide vigil has been a successs despite having to fire the agent who was supposed to be in the car with Britney the day she drove off with Sean on her lap. The agent said he refused to get back in the car with Britney at the wheel because “she drives like a drug-addled hyena having an orgasm.”

Never one to rest on its laurels, the American scientific community has already unveiled the next batch of lab-raised, genetically-enhanced smokin’ hotties who will represent the U.S. at the 2010 Winter Olympic Games in Vancouver.

“This year’s crew was very impressive,” says Dr. Ravel Pursenatch, head of the Female Skiers and Snowboarders Lab.  “The lab put in several years developing a hot blond who could also snowboard, and we got Gretchen Bleiler.  For Vancouver, we’re going one better with Shelly Danton, who we like to think of as Gretchen 2.0.   Basically Gretchen with even bigger hooters.” 

The lab geeks were also proud of female Curlers Cassie and Jamie Johnson (”We were going for one babe and created two!”), and the fact that they are still getting mileage out of Sasha Cohen, whom they engineered for the Salt Lake City games in 2000. 

On the men’s side, the lab suffered mixed results.  While immensely satsified with the creation of hunky speed skater Chad Hendrick, they are still reeling from the fiasco that is snowboarder Shaun White, the “Human Tomato” over whom several scientists were fired.  “No one sets out to create a skinny, red-headed male athlete.  No one,” avowed Dr. Phil Bondule.  “Shaun White is a shameful abomination, in terms of sexual attractiveness, which is the whole raison d’etre of our lab. 

“But the offending parties have been removed, and we’re ecstatic about next year’s men.”  Said men include Jeremy Hines, a 6 foot 2 inch muscle-bound cross-country skier with uncontrollable black hair that Bondule insists will drive fans wild.  “Plus his ass is perfect; watching it flex as he pumps those skis across the Canadian countryside will be enough to send women (and a few men) into paroxysms of ecstasy.  And of course, that means big bucks for the lab, what with the calendars, t-shirts, posters, and X-rated porno clips that will be available for download from out website starting as early as 2008.”

During what was meant to be a peaceful nuking trip in Texas this weekend, Vice-President Dick “Not That Kind of Dick” Cheney accidentally sent a nuclear warehead slamming into the Iranian capital of Tehran, killing hundreds of thousands of people.

 ”It happened all of a sudden,” Cheney said, sipping a martini on the veranda of the mansion owned by long time friend and oil tycoon J.P. Chester Woodsrazer.  “I saw a bird fly by me and turned to shoot a nuke at it, but I didn’t see Iran step out of the woodline, and my nuke went right into it.  Could have happened to anybody, especially a privileged, geriatric, amoral shit-sack like me with no license or sense of awareness for anything or anyone other than myself.”

Fellow hunters agreed.  “This is not the Vice-President’s fault.  Anyone as clueless and stupid would have done the same thing.  It’s actually the fault of the National Bird-Nuking Association for allowing him to possess nukes in the first place.  Someone really should do something about that.”

White House lap dog Scott McClellan told reporters that the deaths of countless innocent lives should not concern American voters.  “Most of those people were insurgents, we have learned.  However, the evidence we have to prove this was blown up in the explosion, but you can trust us, all the people killed were guilty of something.”

President Bush could not be reached for comment, as he was being treated at Walter Reed Medical Center for an uncontrollable erection brought on by the thought of all that Iranian oil just waiting to be liberated and democratized.       

The concept of movie stars doing commercials is not at all new. After all, the majority of these people are really no better than your typical commercial actor anyway, so the “credibility” factor of lowering onesself to t.v. level is not much of an issue when, say, David Spade hams it up for Capital One.

The bar has been severely lowered lately with the likes of Catherine Zeta-Jones, an Oscar winner, shilling for Verizon Wireless. Okay, she has a couple of kids now, I guess the extra dough for diapers and formula comes in handy. It’s not like Michael Douglas is as rich as Bill Gates. And from an advertising perspective it makes good sense; a pretty, brand-name actress gives your product a recognition edge in a crowded market.
What blows my mind, though, is someone like George Clooney doing voiceovers for Budweiser. This guy is filthy, stinking rich. Did you know that he owns Italy? Yes, the entire country of Italy belongs to him, look it up. And it’s not as though his career is waning; he’s at the very peak of his power. In ten or fifteen years I wouldn’t be surprised to see him back on t.v., but now?

And doing voiceovers? Budweiser doesn’t even benefit from having his face on screen. Just his voice! Are you really going to stand in front of the beer cooler at United Dairy Farmers and think to yourself, “If that authoritative voice on the commercial recommends Bud, it must be good enough for a social bottom-feeder like me.” Hell no! Do people even watch beer commercials that don’t have The Twins in them? George Clooney is collecting a check for talking over a commercial that nobody (except me, apparently) is watching.

Now times are tough, and it’s common for a minimum-wage dad to pick up an extra shift at the factory to help pay for his kids’ ear medicine. But what exactly is Clooney saving up for? I can see him now, pondering his dilemma: “Man, I’d really love to upgrade the yacht this year, but times are tough. That damn George Bush and his tax cuts for the wealthy haven’t done nearly enough for my bottom line. I’ll have to get a part-time job just to make ends meet. If only there were something an unskilled Kentucky boy like me could do to pick up an extra hundred grand or so, just to get me over until next payday.” Now I’m no thespian like Clooney, but I remember enough of my high-school English to accurately quote Hamlet who said, “Art thou f***ing kidding me, Ophelia?”

Rapacious media whore Maria Carey filed a multi-million dollar lawsuit against the National Enquirer for failing to take her picture one morning last week as she stood on her front porch wearing nothing but a $1500 bathrobe.

“My client spent three hours in makeup before stepping outside in anticipation of having her privacy violated by the Enquirer’s amoral photo-nazis,” said Carey’s lawyer Hassan Al-Vishnu Goldstein. “When they failed to perform their sworn duty, Ms. Carey had no choice but to sue for her pain, suffering, and time lost.”

Adding insult to injury, says Goldstein, is the fact that the Enquirer tried to cover up its mistake by publishing a photo fully two days old and trying to pass it off as recent.

“Mariah was wearing a beautiful blue terry cloth bathrobe on the day in question. It was handwoven by genetically modified Indonesian orangutans and sprinkled with the ground up horn of the last Sumatran Rhino in existence. The photo they published showed her in a robe she hasn’t worn since Tuesday. Tuesday! And we found out yesterday that no animals were harmed in making that robe, so we’re suing that company, too.”

A spokesman for the Enquirer admitted that the “newspaper” failed in it’s responsibility to perpetuate the diva’s narcissistic fantasy that her everyday actions merit front page attention. But they claim there is a precedent for such negligence that should be taken into consideration.

“US Weekly once published a picture of Jennifer Lopez in which she was shown at the far end of a group of four people, not prominently featured in the middle. This created the perception that she was not the most important person at the event, and her career suffered irreperably for several minutes. However, Ms. Lopez accepted the photographer’s genitals as an apology from the magazine in lieu of litigation. We would be more than willing to prostrate ourselves on Ms. Carey’s throne in such a way.”

Goldstein was unable to respond further because he was called away to negotiate a photo-shoot of the singer taking a dump into a hobo’s mouth.