Click here for my heated column in which I throw verbal brickbats at the celebrities whose shadows I’ve lived in for years, covering their every swivel while running from their constant whims.
Among my reasons:
“They claw their way to the top, then act like they’re desperate not to be noticed.”
“Their pulverized foreheads look a tad out of place in films about 16th-century England.”
“Hitler could be rising to power again, but they wouldn’t say anything for fear the controversy might mess up their next game-show cameo.”
No, let me not give too much away.
If enough people click on the whole column, I could finally become a real celebrity myself, with all the requisite power, surgery, and stupid behavior.