Tuesday, April 19, 2011

MY STORY: I WAS ABDUCTED BY AN ALIEN NAMED BUTTOFUCCO

I'm sure that headline caught your attention. It's juicy, intriguing,
and the kind of thing that makes you go what the....? Putting something
"catchy" in the headline gives me hope that you'll click on and read the
article, right? Isn't that how it works these days with pretty much everything?

That's what's happening more and more these days. People, especially
publishers and publicists are throwing out the big hook, to see if
they can haul in a great catch. It seems like everyone who writes
a book has something sensational, bizarre, or outlandish in it, just
to attract attention. After all, a book is just a book if it's not
controversial. No dirt, no buy.

In the past week,  I've discovered that Ashley Judd was sexually
molested and suffered from depression. Karen DiGuardi, the former
"American Idol" judge, said she was molested, date raped, and sexually
harassed. Meridith Baxter Birney, who acknowledged recently, that
she is a lesbian, also is claiming that her husband physically and
verbally abused her.

All of this is serious stuff, but I have one question: IS NOTHING
SACRED ANYMORE? Why do we have to hear about this personal
stuff? Just to sell a book? These people are selling their souls just
to try to cash in and make the New York Times best-seller list.
Why? Because they can write a sequel, dish more dirt, and get
paid even more money. It's the American way, right?

Athletes are hardly immune from this type of behavior. Andre
Agassi, in his autobiography, "Open", claimed that he did crystal
meth and that punk-rocker hairdo that he used to wear? Yeah,
that was actually a friggin' wig! He said he hated his dad and
resented losing his childhood to tennis. And of course, that book
zoomed to the top of the New York Times best-seller list.

I can hardly wait for the Steve Phillips autobiography to come
out. I'm sure he'll blame his stupid sexual addiction on a
conversation he had with the Dali Lama, or it was because he
had trouble dealing with his separation anxiety from Bobby
Valentine. Perhaps, he just needed to feel loved after running
the New York Mets into the ground.

But seriously, I don't know what to believe anymore. Rape,
drugs, depression, adultery, bad bowel movements, sexual
dysfunction. STOP!! It's starting to seem like it's all made up
or embellished. Why didn't we hear about this stuff before
they put it into a book? Why do we even care to hear this stuff,
anyway?

Are people really that interested in other people's problems?
Maybe Lou Holtz was right when he said, "only 10% percent
of the people care about your problems, the other 90% are glad
that you have them."

There were more than 36 books written about Mickey Mantle
before last year. We thought we had known everything about
the Yankees icon. But noooooooooooo. Jane Leavy comes out
with a new book called: "The Last Boy...", and she states that
Mantle was probably sexually abused by a half-sister,  and that
he hit on her doing an interview. And of course, it becomes a
best-seller. Dirt, dirt, and more dirt.

What's next, the Pope coming out with a new book, where he
admits betting on the ponies with Pete Rose?

All this stuff is absurd. Stop the insanity, stop the lies, and
stop buying those books that make you shower twice after
reading them. Hey, when is Jenn Sterger going on the circuit
to promote her upcoming book?

1 comment:

  1. Totally hit the mark.

    TMI - too much information we do not need to know nor care about. Most of it depressing!

    ReplyDelete