Serendipity
Dumb x 3
The trouble with being a hermit (i.e. anti-social, social recluse) is that it's not a writer-friendly state of being. Like your social life, your writing career also reaches an impasse and you find yourself facing a blank wall. As I found out for myself, the only solution to this predicament is to go to Page Six where you will find what you've been missing. But as instantaneous as that mouse click to Page Six comes the realization that hermitry is a much, much better option especially when you read trashy gossip about the dark, dank world of Tinseltown.
Now there are few things that actually scare me to death: death, poverty, war, heights, losing a loved one, reaching a US port of entry only to be deported back to the P.I. and reading about the latest and most dangerous alliance in the world -- and no, it's not America and Israel, it's actually the brainless triad of Spears, Hilton, and Lohan.
Page Six dubbed them the "3 Bimbos of the Apocalypse" and Maureen Callahan, the writer of the article had this to say: "'The Brit Pack': three girls, increasingly famous for making spectacularly bad choices, marshaling their collective brain power to navigate the booths and banquettes at Hyde or Spider Club or wherever it is they're drinking it off on any given night. Paris Hilton, her frenemy Lindsay Lohan, and newly separated Britney Spears: three party girls without a care (babies? what babies?), a high tolerance for alcohol, or a good publicist."
Then Callahan goes for the kill, "the trio go clubbing every night, smoking and drinking and having dance-offs. Surely they talk to each other too, but trying to guess what their conversations sound like is enough to make anyone's head explode."
To say that that last sentence made me guffaw is an understatement. And I agree, I don't even want to ponder on what these bimbos can possibly talk about especially during a night of partying. The thought of these dimwits having a serious talk about life is as funny and far-fetched as finding a Klingon language interpreter or a magazine editor who can't write (oops, that one actually exists and can be found somewhere in this city).
You're probably wondering why I detest these party girls. Why are they getting so much media attention (and ironically I'm adding to it) when they represent all that's excessive and decadent in this world? If I had a teenage daughter (luckily, my daughter Ripley is only 1 yr. old), would I want her to idolize these three bimbos? It makes me so angry to see them flaunt their irrelevant and shallow lives to the public while earning millions of dollars to be wasted on trivialities and ostentatious whims. And the sad part is, millions of young girls consider them as role models to be admired and emulated.
Instead of parading half-naked in their music videos, showing off their uncovered crotches, leaving their babies (in the case of ex-Mrs. Federline) with nannies, and partying all over L.A. or Vegas like clueless lemmings, why can't they do something relevant that would actually benefit mankind and give a positive message to their legions of young fans?
I don't understand how the world works sometimes. There are so many good people in this green earth who deserve all the attention, the fame and the fortune, but what do you know, these three idiots have them all. But what bothers and boggles me even more is the fact that I see Spears, Hilton, and Lohan wannabes and clones all over the city. If this "Bimbonic plague" spreads even more, I think that Callahan's Page Six gossipy article might be prophetic after all -- the apocalypse is indeed here! Duh!