Sunday, November 06, 2005

Who's News!

Well, you asked for it. Seriously, you did. What in God’s name is wrong with you people? It’s back, and more pissed than ever: WHO’S NEWS, our weekly foray into the inexplicable world of popular culture. More skewering than a kabob convention. All the hatred of a Klan rally, neo-Nazi assembly, and Nation of Islam gathering rolled into a single 1,000-word bundle, with disdain expressed for all of humanity, not any particular group. We here at Admin Worm long for a day when mankind can be united; when people are not judged for the color of their skin, but rather for the fact that everyone—and we mean everyone, even us, goddammit—are wasting their fucking lives.

What is the real scoop on why Nicole Richie and Paris Hilton aren't on speaking terms anymore? -Michelle Andrews, Visalia, CA

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Note to self: It’s impossible to type with my face buried in my hands.

Good news and bad news, Michelle. First, the bad news: I am going to trash you. But the good news is you won’t have the added humiliation of receiving this week’s “Rat’s Ass Award,” which goes to a letter-writer from Florida. More on that below.

To answer your question, Nicole Richie and Paris Hilton are no longer on speaking terms because each learned of contractual guarantees for the other that put her own “superior” status in question. For instance, Paris Hilton has a contract rider which delivers to her trailer, each morning, a fresh pair of $10,000 Gucci loafers into which she deposits her morning and afternoon bowel movements, which are then encased in Plexiglas shadowboxes and shipped to various Hard Rock Cafes across the world.

Nicole, on the other hand, is contractually allowed to spend ten minutes each day pelting a group of poor children, dressed in rags and standing on a sewer grate, with diamonds, and Richie is continually delighted at the childrens' horrified faces as the precious gems plummet into the sewers below, forever irretrievable. Each starlet thinks the other’s contractual guarantees are preferable to her own, hence the incessant pissing match.

For fuck's sake, Michelle: turn off the fucking television and donate some blood or something. Hell, donate all of it. You're serving no other purpose.


How is Michael J. Fox, who has Parkinson's disease, doing lately? -Amber Mitchell, Bellingham, MA

Shaky.

Married actors Lisa Rinna and Harry Hamlin seem to have a happy family life. Do they want more children? -Gail Robinson, South Gate, CA

By asking “Do they want more children,” I assume you’re offering them your own children, Gail, which is a good thing since instead of caring for your kids, you’re instead following every goddamned move made by B-movie couple Lisa Rinna and Harry fucking Hamlin.

To answer your question, they do want more children. In fact, they looked into adoption, but discovered to their dismay that all healthy, white babies born within a 200-mile radius of L.A. are immediately shipped to Rosie O’Donnell’s house, while all eligible overseas infants are given directly to Angelina Jolie.


EXCLUSIVE.

Admin Worm staffers obtained questions culled directly from a Hollywood adoption form. See for yourself how stringent the laws are:

Are you a militant lesbian who communicates primarily by shouting, treating underlings like refuse and deemed “mentally unstable” by everyone you encounter? (If “yes,” skip directly to last question and indicate how many babies you want, specifying how many are for raising and how many are for consumption)

Are you a creepy starlet who impulsively tattooed an ex-lover’s name on your arm and even wore a vial of his blood around your neck, only to later have an affair with a married co-star, breaking up his marriage and proudly plastering your adulterous ass on every gossip magazine in the country? (If “yes,” indicate if you need a vegetarian meal on your flight to Asia to pick up your seven healthy babies)

Meanwhile, my wife and I will likely never be allowed to adopt because I looked at porn on the computer once. Aaaaah, sweet justice!

Britain's Prince Harry appears to have taken on Princess Diana's personality, while Prince William seems to be taking more after his dad. What's the consensus? -Michelle Danielson, Jacksonville, FL

Trumpet fanfare please, because Michelle Danielson of Jacksonville, Florida is the lucky recipient of this week’s “Who Gives a Rat’s Ass” award!

In answer to your question, Michelle, you’re remarkably right on the button. Prince Harry pisses away several million pounds (that’s British money) every year on fashion, jewelry, hair styling, massages, and paying off paparazzi so they don’t report his countless anonymous backseat trysts with billion-dollar playboys. Just like mom!

Harry is shown to the left in his infamous Nazi costume, which he wore in a misguided attempt at humor. His mom, however, was not joking: Princess Diana had a really, really visceral hatred for Jews, as detailed in this quote culled from the book “Diana : Her True Story in Her Own Words” by Andrew Morton:



“I have a really, really visceral hatred for Jews.”
Princess Diana, pages 24, 351, 462, Appendices A, B, C, G, and N
from "Diana : Her True Story in Her Own Words” by Andrew Morton


Prince William, on the other hand, is much more refined. He chooses to piss away millions of pounds (again, British money: keep up, Michelle) on worldwide travel, hoity-toity sports like fox hunting and water polo, and he even courts a staggeringly unattractive woman just like the old man.

What the two boys have in common is the fact that merely because of bloodline, they never have to work a day of their lives. While hard-working Brits slave away in steel mills, exposed to hazardous chemicals and unbelievable heat; while other Brits while away their time at pointless office jobs, perhaps taking a night class here and there in hopes of incrementally bettering their lives; while still other Brits breathe their last after a disappointing life relegated to lower-lower-middle-class, the Royal Family continues to have billions funneled towards them each and every year for no other reason than because they are who they are.

A note to an enterprising street vendor near Buckingham Palace: stop selling miniature Big Bens and instead stock up on pitchforks, torches, graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate. Because once the veil is lifted—once average Brits realize how they’ve been ass-raped for centuries upon centuries by a greedy gaggle of bluebloods—the palace will be turned into a bonfire, visible to the naked eye from all corners of the globe, which will put the Northern Lights to fucking shame.

Come to think of it, we should do that in America, too…

Aaaah, nothing like a quiet Sunday morning in the study, cats slumbering on the chaise lounge, piping hot cup of coffee in my hand, synapses overloaded with the capacity to hate and revile anything and everything remotely associated with the moral quagmire that is popular culture. In fact, popular culture is an oxymoron, which we vainly try to illustrate here each and every week in Who’s News.