The Evil has passed.
Certainly, we're not out of the woods. America manufactures Lohans and Hiltons the way it once made cars and TV sets. But after tomorrow, we need never fear a Page Six report abruptly linking ARod to the gold standard of bimbonic attention seekers, "the round mound of around the town," Ms. Kim Kardashian. The double K of double D.
The daughter of the man who helped free OJ is marrying some poor, wretched dolt, a piece of soggy human Kleenex who in three years will be an unfunny punch line, if not another reality TV suicide. Let's pity the guy. I think he's a giant right now. In five years, he'll be two Pedroia-sized dwarfs on top of each other.
But she won't bring down our boy.
Nope. In fact, Arod remains on assignment, from IT IS HIGH. Long ago, we dictated his future job: Woo and defrock the First Lady of the Fenway Femweights, Drew Barrymore, who starred in the propaganda recruiting film, "Fever Pitch." Thanks to her, a generation of gin-bloated sorority sisters thinks the height of sexy coolness is to yell, "So good, so good, so good," during Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline."
Her time is coming. A major barrier has been hurdled.Take a deep breath, everybody. We earned it.
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2 comments:
Still too young. Wake me when she hits 45.
When in Fenway last week, I was chastised for not singing, during the 8th inning stretch(?), "Sweet Caroline," with the rest of the citizens of Scum Bag Nation. I sat on my hand waiting for the Rays to finish the job.
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