Goosey Goosey Gander

Regular readers (I totally have those! My stat counter confirms that at least one person revisits this place on the regular, and that totally counts...except I suspect if I took a look at the ISP number it registered as that one regular visitor would be...me. Um, anyway...) will have noticed the old slack-on-the-update nature of this here blog. Once was the day I could merrily update twice weekly with thrilling tales of teen starlets and teen TV and other deep subjects. Not so now, my friends. I think I've become (shocking) an adult.

Not that I'm no longer interested in celebrity (au contraire), but the twin toils of full time MA and full time job (not to mention full time fabulosity and part time drunkenness) leave little time, oh so little time, for keeping up with the exploits of La La Land. (And LiLo Land, since Lindsay is really a country unto her self. They say no man is an island but where La Lohan is concerned one suspects this is not the case. She is a tiny island made entirely of a sort of white sandy substance, surrounded by a sea of alcohol.)

I’m going to turn into one of those oddballs who says things like "Tom and Nicole split up? You're having me on!" or "Clooney is gay? As if -- he's just not found the right girl!" or "Mel Gibson is crazy? Pshaw, he's a totally Jew-friendly nice old guy" and everyone will point and laugh at me. I will wear tights with feet and have a small handbag and think Nicole Richie is the fat one from season one of The Simple Life, and what are these "Eye Pods" people keep talking about, are they some sort of organic spectacles case?

For all I know the world of celebrity could have gone doolally! Lindsay could have turned over a new leaf and be in rehab, Brad and Jennifer could have split up that happy golden marriage (ha! I know those crazy kids will make it work somehow), the Camberlakes could have split up and Matthew McConaughey could be totally gay with someone random like Lance Armstrong. See? I'm way out of the loopy.

In honour of said out-of-the-loopiness, because I am never ever going to catch up on these important doings with my eight million jobs and commitments, since a girl has to sleep (and by 'sleep' I mean 'stay up all night watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer'), and thus I cannot reasonably hope to provide you (my one reader, which is me) with up-to-date gossipy goodness, I shall count down the best celebrity gossip ever. Yes, it's years out of date. Yes, you've heard it all before. But show me a gal who doesn't enjoy the story about Fabio killing a goose with his face, and I'll show you the black, cavernous hole where their heart should be. Lead on, MacGossip!

Life is a Rollercoaster, You’ve Just Got to Ride It



'Hi, I'm Fabio Lanzoni! You probably just know me as "Fabio" -- one name, like Madonna, Cher, and The Fonz. I think The Fonz might be two words. I dunno, I can't count. I'm just pretty. Wanna watch me flex?

You may know me for my catalogue work -- Gap Menswear A/W 1998 was a particular high point. I really mastered the blank gaze for that one. Or perhaps you've seen the covers of such luminary novels as Hearts Aflame or Comanche. I wrote that one myself -- well, someone else did the words and stuff, but I'm on the cover and it says "Fabio" on it:



Which is practically the same as writing it. I was also in an "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter!" advert, where I turned in a winning performance. Probably because I really couldn't believe it wasn't butter! It was kind of greasy and yellow and you put it on bread -- it probably was butter, come to think of it. Nothing gets past old Fabio! Not that I'm old.

I just told you how nothing gets past Fabio, and now I can tell you I mean that literally. Lit-err-ali. Like this one time, a goose didn't get past Fabio. Oh, it tried, my friends, it tried.

I was riding a rollercoaster -- some people are afraid of such dizzying heights and masterful speed, but not Fabio. I'm tuff. Anyway, I'm right at the front of the 'coaster, surrounded by chicks, hair billowing in the wind (shirt on, since this isn't the cover of a romance novel and a guy has some pride; and I hadn't been to the gym in five hours, so you know: paunchy) when I see a goose fly towards us. Well, I wasn't going to take that!

I'm a hero, a lover, a fighter, a pilot, an author, a model, an occasional appearer on reality shows, a Zoolander cameo actor: that bird's ass was grass. It flew towards Fabio! Fabio thought, nothing gets past Fabio! We met in mid-air! We fought a mighty duel! The bird plummeted to earth!

Naturally I was comforted by a hot blonde chick. There's a picture of her here, dabbing my wounds. That would make a great romance novel cover. It could be called, "Gaping Wound". That sounds kind of dirty. The chicks'll love it.

So that's the story of my heroism. That goose was cooked! Ahahahaha! Please buy my new book.'

Thanks, Fabio, for sharing your tale. It was truly...well, it was truly...it was.

Next week, YLBLT re-tells the classic tale of that one time Crazy Sharon Stone's ex-husband Phil Bronstein was bitten by a Komodo Dragon. Stars: they're just like us -- they get attacked by animals too! Don't forget to tune in, same bat time, same bat channel. (Once a week, until I get bored or run out of ancient stories about celebrities to rehash or possible -- gasp! -- catch up on what the kidz are up to these days. Say, did you hear James Brown died? Bang up to date, me.)