For equal time, Democratic ding-dong Anthony Weiner insanely "sexted" crotch shots to at least six women, his name alone providing fodder for several months' worth of late-night comedy monologues. The U.S. rep was urged down from office, as wife Huma Abedin—personal aide to another cuckolded broad, Hillary Clinton—stood by her man and even started showing a bump, much like he'd shown his, and with just as much misguided pride. And now the really little Weiner has emerged!

And since the gays are on top of every trend, Puerto Rican senator Roberto Arango was caught on the hookup app Grindr, seemingly posing for a very alluring rectal examination. As I wrote at the time, "Another anti-gay asshole revealed!"

And let's not forget that a French flirt—International Monetary Fund chief Dominique Strauss-Kahn—was arrested for forcing sex on a hotel maid. (Between this and Ah-nold's situation, the satirical Sondheim ditty "Everybody Ought to Have a Maid" was starting to become a world anthem.) But Strauss-Kahn denied it was rape, and the maid had a shady past, so the charges were dropped, Strauss-Kahn nobly admitting that cheating on his wife was a "moral failing." So true—a tip on the pillow would have surely sufficed.

Designer John Galliano starred in his own version of Springtime for Hitler, minus the laughs.
Chad Griffith
Designer John Galliano starred in his own version of Springtime for Hitler, minus the laughs.
Kim Kardashian was the only living being who was shocked when people threw Minute Rice at her wedding.
Chad Griffith
Kim Kardashian was the only living being who was shocked when people threw Minute Rice at her wedding.


When You Dish Upon a Star

Celebs kept messing up, too, making for a colorful array of sickening headlines that kept topping one another like whores with strap-ons. Charlie Sheen launched his defiant "Violent Torpedo of Truth" tour, though it turned groveling when he begged audiences to help him nab his high-paying sitcom job back. After getting skewered in the least-funny but highest-rated Comedy Central roast ever, Charlie scored another series, this one based on Anger Management. ("A real stretch," the frazzled actor joked with rare self-awareness.) Meanwhile, Ashton Kutcher didn't let the network down as Charlie's Two and a Half Men replacement, proving that all prime-time womanizers are apparently interchangeable in the public's eyes.

But just before Demi demoted him to singlehood, Kutcher stepped in Twitter poop when he defended Joe Paterno (the fired Penn State coach who didn't tell the cops about that long-brewing child-molesting scandal), as we were reminded that no one famous was safe from social media and/or cell-phone videos. After all, surreal designer John Galliano had been captured assaulting fellow cocktail-bar patrons with anti-Semitic slurs that were cut on the bias ("I love Hitler!"), while Tracy Morgan's inelegant bout of "comedy" surfaced on Facebook (if his son were gay, he'd better talk to him like a man, or Tracy would knife him) and had the comic praying for some immediate Rapture action.

Speaking of killing kids, "Tot Mom" Casey Anthony got off after her lawyer argued that baby Caylee had drowned—though in all of Casey's many alibis, that one never seemed to have come up before. And while extraordinary singer Amy Winehouse went to the rehab center in the sky, her parents swore she didn't die drowning in booze because Amy had just gone cold turkey on the stuff. Alcoholics took that as a message to just keep on guzzling, until the coroner's report shot through the denial and said Amy definitely died by the bottle, and it wasn't all that festive, even if her posthumously released Tony Bennett duet got a Grammy nomination.

And moments later, Michael Jackson's doctor, Conrad Murray, was convicted of involuntary manslaughter, proving that nightly propofol cocktails are even more damaging than double mai tais. I guess the jury didn't believe that Michael administered the final dose himself—though I bet he probably would have liked to, sadly enough.

'Do You Take This Trick...?'

The sanctity of hetero marriage was destroyed once again when Kim Kardashian and Kris Humphries shockingly said "I don't" after only 72 blissfully wedded days of camera-seeking and photo-selling. The word "fraud" was tossed around so much after Kim filed for divorce that even Humphries used it in his follow-up request for annulment!

But New York State gays could finally have fake weddings, too! Same-sex marriage was approved here in June, providing good news for caterers, photographers, and cover bands, while boosting the number of people suddenly looking for Mr. Right rather than just Mr. Right Now. And that suddenly changed the game plan for so very many of the people mentioned above.

On Broadway, religion came out of the closet, with

The Book of Mormon hilariously spoofing the wacky quirks of lying evangelical recruiters who transformed a Ugandan village, while Sister Act had nuns bumping their crotches to music as coached by a lounge singer on the lam. Both seemed to grin and say, "Fuck you, God, in the cunt!"

When Spider-Man: Turn off the Dark finally stopped hurting people in the head, it gained respect for its moneymaking skills, while War Horse provided a safe and lucrative stab at stage wizardry, audiences only feeling disappointed when young Joey didn't get the final curtain call.

And War Horse became Oscar bait, too, though most films stayed species-specific, thanks to star-driven biopics about J. Edgar, Margaret Thatcher, and Marilyn; rose-tinted odes to nonverbal communication (The Artist, Hugo); and Harold Camping–style films about the end of the world (Melancholia, Take Shelter) that made you root for the end of the movie.

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