Junkie

OK-I’m not especially proud of this-but in true blither blather form here it is: I’m a celebrity tabloid junkie. I read them daily. I am still waiting on the Brad/Angelina break up to happen. I also need to know if Justin and Jessica are getting back together; who Gerard is hooking up with now; what happened to Jessica’s beloved dog; what Nicole named the baby; what new celeb-wacko is now a Scientologist; and who has turned lesbian. And yes-I believe the reports 92.8 % of the time. I am STILL waiting for Jennifer Aniston to have her “F-YOU!” moment in the spotlight.

I know, I know, I know... With a full time job, two boys, a dog, a dirty house, and busy hubby-there are better things to do with my time. I MAKE TIME FOR THIS. The laundry can wait… And I have been spending a lot of quality time lately loathing the slimy, slick-willy, turned wanna-be-playboy Jon Gosselin. I can’t STAND him. Now-for those of you who have watched some Jon & Kate plus Eight-I’m not defending Kate’s uber-critical communication style. But I GET her. She’s a manager of an impossible household of people who can’t sit still. Somebody’s gotta do the bitchin’ or nothin’s gonna get done. And you KNOW I’m right on this one... None of us could do that well with cameras rolling. I also understand that sometimes divorce is the best option for two people. I’m not criticizing their split. I just can’t stand the revolving door, sleazy sex-ploits of this once hands-on dad from middle America who represented the working class family engaged in the messy process of parenting. It just pisses me off that a man who is under intense media scrutiny has the arrogance to believe that we the viewing public are too simple to “get” him with his newly pierced, diamond stud ears, backwards ball cap, converse sneakers, Malboro’s, and blonde “girlfriends.” Grow up, Jon Gosselin. We “get” you. You’re a man who wants to be a kid again; who can’t take the heat in the kitchen; who needs to rebel against the system; who has "needs" only a 22 yr old can meet; who keeps getting his hand caught in the cookie jar (or bank account); and who needs his TLC cake and freedom too. Gimme a break... We’re watching-and yes, even judging. But so are eight little pairs of eyes of ears.
Shame. On. You. ….jerk.