Sunday, April 19, 2009

Back Out of Her Saddle Again...

Hello darlings. Sorry to have been away so long. I haven't really been away, but after writing, and worse, sitting through, Survivor each week, I'm blogged out. But at least you can read me there. And you are not required to watch Survivor to enjoy the columns. In fact, it might be better if you haven't watched, so you're not reliving a nightmare on video.

So I was swanning through The Huffington Post entertainment page, where you'll find my most-recent postings, sorting through the 300 "Susan Boyle" headlines (Is it just me, or does that Boil woman look just like Bette Davis during the first half of Pocketful of Miracles, or in the first reel of Now Voyager? And Bette could not sing! Boy, could she not sing, not that she ever let that stop her.), and I saw this headline: "Madonna Injured in Fall From Horse."

Well what was she doing on a horse in the first place? I'm assuming it was a stallion, although it could have been Camilla Parker-Bowles-Windsor, or Susan Boyle for all I know. Madonna has proved "adaptable" in the past. Someone must have told her that Mr. Ed is hung like a horse. (And he WAS! Dead now, you know.)

Maybe Harpo Marx was standing in front of the "Horses Out To Stud" sign, blocking the letters "rse," and Madonna made the natural mistake of thinking the sign only said "Hos Out to Stud," and just charged in and mounted the first steed she ran into. Odd that she's so unsteady in the saddle, but then, with my shaky pelvic cradle, I avoid riding anything alive that is going somewhere while I'm astride, which is why I married so many men who went nowhere.

I was in a western some 55 years ago or so, called Johnny Horndog, but I had brains enough to leave all the horse-riding to my stunt double, Jimmy Joe Johnson, who looked stunning in my chic western ensembles. Talk about "Cowboy Drag"! For my horseback close-ups, I was actually just riding a compliant second-assistant director on his hands and knees wearing a horse costume in front of a projection screen, and even then, I did fall off him once, when his saddle horn lost its - ah - resolve, but that incident occurred off-set, in my dressing room almost an hour after we had wrapped for the day, and I landed on a soft surface. Once it was a hard surface again, I got back up on that AD and conquered my fears as I always have, with vodka.

So Madonna, stay off the equine beasts. Stick to haranguing gay dancers, smooching with lesbian comediennes, and free-range adopting. Remember Christopher Reeve. He was a great man. People felt awful about what happened to him. And he went on to amazing achievements. Think how embarrassing it would be to fall off a horse, be paralyzed for life, and not have people feel awful about it. And what will you do then to amaze and inspire? Become an insufferable harpy even though unable to move? Perhaps invent fabulous new immobile sex techniques? ("I call this one, the 'Pat Nixon'.")

The Huffington Entertainment page is certainly a rich source of giggle-worthy headlines. Some others: 'Slumdog' Star Rubina OFFERED FOR SALE By Her Father.
Is this a story, or an eBay listing? Has Madonna placed a bid from her bed of pain?

"DioGuardi: Being An 'Idol' Judge Isn't Easy"
Golly. This eval-u-atin' and talkin' stuff are ha-ard. Ms DioGuardi, if Randy Jackson and Paula Abdul can do it, how hard can it be?

"Farrah Fawcett Weighs 86 Lbs, Claims Rehab-Bound Son"
The Lose-Your-Mind; Lose-Your-Fat Diet.

"Bill Murray Plunks Woman During Pro-Am"
You'd think a Huffington Poster could spell correctly a simple four-letter word (hint: only 4 letters!) that 6-year-olds can spray-paint on fences without a problem.

"Male Movie Stars Are Getting Fatter"
Talk to Farrah, Russell Crowe. You'll be down to 98 pounds in a week. I've always liked it when male movies stars got a chubby.

"It's Official: I'm Not Famous by Stephen Collins"
News, Stephen, it's supposed to be news.

"Breasts Barred From The Olympics"
Am I supposed to leave mine in the car? That would only allow me a 50 yard range, as that is as far as they will stretch.

And my favorite, "The Untold Susan Boyle Story."
It's my favorite because there are at least 5 other "Susan Boyle" stories on the same page. What could still be "untold"?

A few days ago, I saw this headline: "Josh Holloway Has a Baby Girl." This was not on Huffington, but it was certainly amazing. That Island is damned weird! No wonder none of the women could survive a pregnancy on The Island; it's supposed to be the men carrying the babies. But where did Holloway gestate the fetus? He was shirtless for the whole first episode, and he certainly looked less pregnant than I - ah - would have if I'd ever been pregnant, which I never was, as my daughter, who looked just like me except for C. Aubrey Smith's nose, was adopted, I tell you, adopted!

Anyway, I've tracked the Holloway fetus down.

And the episodes airing now, shot right near the end of his pregnancy, have him wearing those flaw-concealing Dharma jumpsuits. And perhaps he's hollow. That might be what "Holloway" means: "The Hollow Body Way to have kids." As for Baby Holloway, she will have went on to die in The Dharma Purge, 22 years before she has will have been born. That damned Island is confusing!

My little friend Kent Levine has started up doing his Artful Dodger Talk radio show again. Apparently they "podcast" it as well. I have no idea what "podcasting" is. It sounds like an event from The Invasion of the Body Snatchers Olympics. But if you can get podcasts on your abacus, and you're interested in discussing The Artful Dodger, and why they felt it necessary to take his big number, Consider Yourself, and give most of it to the chorus, you can hear them here.

Kent co-wrote the episode of The Simpsons called Dancing Homer, where Homer became something called a "Baseball Mascot." My mother always said you had to have a "fallback career," although she seemed to think that meant a career that consisted of falling on your back and sending your heels heavenward, an activity at which I still retain my amateur standing. But for a fallback occupation, in case being a Movie Legend doesn't pan out for me now, 94 years in, I have selected "Baseball Mascot." And the character I will portray?

Vodka Woman!

Well, I'll be back at The Huffington Post on Friday, with a fresh recap. Until then, check out my most recent one: Survivor Tocantins: Harry Potter and the Dunghole of Tocantins.

Cheers darlings.

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