It’s that time of year again and I think I’ve been a very well-behaved pop culture whore. I only have a few requests for my Christmas stocking!
1) If I have to hear about Eva Longoria’s engagement for the next year, I’m going to eat some Taco Bell green onions. Please encourage her to shut her yap trap.
2) If the ill-conceived e-mails floating around town are in fact the musings of Ms. Lindsay Lohan, it appears that our young darling might want to pick up a grammar book instead of the latest Louis Vuitton purse. Please direct her to the spell check function on her BlackBerry or use her as bait in the hunt for Osama. Whatever you think is best. Also, fruit basket for Lindsay Ratowsky.
3) The thrill of Britney’s comeback is fading fast and no one is more devastated than me. First of all, please tell her that a star of her stature can at least afford La Perla undies instead of
4) Paris Hilton is running around town with Stavros and a big ‘ole diamond on the ring finger. Yes! Marry her off; ship her to the Greek isles where she can’t assault our senses or our pop stars.
5) I’m going to need some sort of spectacular celebrity break up next year. My first choice is going to be Brad and Angelina. I know there’s a kid involved, but how is
6) Tyra Banks needs to get the vagina arms under control.
7) BoomKat needs to mold the lives of more aspiring pop stars and I need some more dish on the personal lives of the Danity Kane trannies.
8) If the Pussycat Dolls win a Grammy, I will take Rudolph hostage.
And if all else fails, you’ve proven yourself quite capable of taking over R. Kelly’s reign as king of oddly intriguing hip hop with this little ditty: