Today's jammie cam features me back at Chez Wilde, eating my beloved yogurt, checking email, doing a little yoga, and preparing for a day of making apricot jam. Yep, more canning, just in case the apocalypse comes sooner rather than later.
Checking my email includes quickly scanning my spam folder, and I see that Paris has been very busy this week. Below is the list of activities attributed to Ms Hilton:
Engaging in oral sex with the New England Patriots (I assume it's the football team, although I suspect poor Paul Revere would rather it were the original patriots);
Losing her vagina because of Dr Phil (I have no idea how that could happen; I expect some pathology journal will be having a huge write-up on this, because it must be a true rarity in the annals of medicine. I'm also curious as to how a second-rate psychologist could make it happen; I would think that major surgery would be involved);
Coming close to bankruptcy (the cost of vagina-removing surgery, perhaps? She should have asked the Patriots to help out with some cash);
Being asked to operate the LHC (the big ol' particle accelerator that potentially could produce micro black holes...who better to be involved, eh?);
I'll skip the one about her swallowing - it's probably related to the New England Patriots social event;
Oh, apparently the Patriots were not the only lovers she took this week, as she hooked up with some space aliens and is apparently having their love child;
And finally, she got caught not wearing any knickers (consider her sexual activities for the week, I'd be more surprised to find out she had any on).
So for those of you who think I'm having too much fun, my time since being off the job hasn't remotely compared to this, even whilst hanging out in the Bat Cave (I was watching Star Trek, after all). In fact, I've not gotten a single invite to the Large Hadron Collider events, something I'm mightily peeved about. Maybe I need to move up to a better class of Mad Scientist; although I think Egon has the potential to create a huge rift in the fabric of space and time, I'm not getting any younger. I want to achieve my goal of being a B-movie lab assistant - complete with angora sweater - before I end up needing a walker. I don't want my screams of terror to be mistaken for an attack of gout.
Below: Dolores Fuller from "Bride of the Monster" - I think I could get away with a similar look, don't you?
2 comments:
The Bride of the Monster has a naive look about her that you could never master. She seems so clueless, you could master a look like Bebe's.
http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3095/2410591581_dd40c3a59a.jpg?v=0 (And she had friends in high places, you would appreciate that. While making a personal appearance at a Chicago hotel, several thousand dollars' worth of jewelry was stolen from Daniels' hotel room. Gangster Al Capone, a longtime Daniels fan, heard about it and put out the word that whoever stole the jewelry had 24 hours to return it "or else." The jewelry was returned the next day. )
The bride of the monster, as dumb as she may be, still managed to end up in a laboratory with a mad scientist.
I love Bebe Daniels, and remember her well from 42nd st as the jaded star.
However, your remarks have inspired me to come up with a new role model for the mad scientist's lab assistant - see my next post!
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