Thursday, July 01, 2004
The Week in Denial
It’s been a huge week for celebrity denials! Between Mary-Kate’s crack-rumor smackdown, Britney’s pregnancy pshaw, and J.K. Rowling’s book-title brouhaha, publicists have been working overtime to repeat carefully-worded absurdities while maintaining straight, if botoxedly expressionless, faces. Unfortunately, with all the excitement, a few disclaimers of the semi-famous were bound to fall through the cracks:
Hi, I’m Courtney Love. I just want to deny, once again and for the record, that I am an unfit parent. Li’l Francis Bean is quite simply thriving. Why, just the other day she took her top off in the middle of the food court at the mall and started chucking soft pretzels at the security guards. And we have so much fun together—“singing,” attending court hearings, trying not to choke on our tongues. Next week, we’re thinking about taking up the Kabbalah. That’s right, we’re going totally inner peace on your asses.
Tom Cruise here. Have I denied being gay recently? Just thought I’d better put that one out there. Because if American legal process has taught us anything, it is that I am unequivocally heterosexual. That, and that separate but equal is inherently unequal. Now I’m going to go have some sex with women. Because I want to.
Ladies and Gentlemen, an Ex-President of the United States. I did not have sexual intercourse with that woman. Oh, wait, that woman? Shoot, I can’t really be sure. Could you give me like an identifying feature, like does she have a prosthetic limb or scream something amusing at the moment of climax? Hmmm. Yeah. Well, could we just agree that I did not have sexual intercourse with at least some woman? I guess it kind of depends on what the meaning of “some” is.
Hello America, I’m Joan Rivers, here to address the rumor that I died five years ago and that the E! network has secretly replaced me with an angry, robotic skeleton with an infinitesimally small knowledge of popular culture. The correct figure is more like seven years ago. Now will someone please plug me back into the wall?
Hey, it’s Madonna, or Esther, as the kids these days call me. I just want to deny recent reports that I have nothing left to deny. There are many, many scandalous stories left in me, like the one about how I tried to bar hikers from crossing my English estate. Damn, that’s not likely to make Page Six any time soon, is it? Well, how about the rumor that my vanity record label lost money? I guess that’s more Forbes than Star Magazine. Well, what the hell am I supposed to do? I already made out with Britney and Vanilla Ice, for God’s sake. What, do you want me to marry J. Lo? Actually, that’s not a bad idea...
Taking a four-day holiday weekend. Let’s reconvene next Tuesday, shall we?
It’s been a huge week for celebrity denials! Between Mary-Kate’s crack-rumor smackdown, Britney’s pregnancy pshaw, and J.K. Rowling’s book-title brouhaha, publicists have been working overtime to repeat carefully-worded absurdities while maintaining straight, if botoxedly expressionless, faces. Unfortunately, with all the excitement, a few disclaimers of the semi-famous were bound to fall through the cracks:
Hi, I’m Courtney Love. I just want to deny, once again and for the record, that I am an unfit parent. Li’l Francis Bean is quite simply thriving. Why, just the other day she took her top off in the middle of the food court at the mall and started chucking soft pretzels at the security guards. And we have so much fun together—“singing,” attending court hearings, trying not to choke on our tongues. Next week, we’re thinking about taking up the Kabbalah. That’s right, we’re going totally inner peace on your asses.
Tom Cruise here. Have I denied being gay recently? Just thought I’d better put that one out there. Because if American legal process has taught us anything, it is that I am unequivocally heterosexual. That, and that separate but equal is inherently unequal. Now I’m going to go have some sex with women. Because I want to.
Ladies and Gentlemen, an Ex-President of the United States. I did not have sexual intercourse with that woman. Oh, wait, that woman? Shoot, I can’t really be sure. Could you give me like an identifying feature, like does she have a prosthetic limb or scream something amusing at the moment of climax? Hmmm. Yeah. Well, could we just agree that I did not have sexual intercourse with at least some woman? I guess it kind of depends on what the meaning of “some” is.
Hello America, I’m Joan Rivers, here to address the rumor that I died five years ago and that the E! network has secretly replaced me with an angry, robotic skeleton with an infinitesimally small knowledge of popular culture. The correct figure is more like seven years ago. Now will someone please plug me back into the wall?
Hey, it’s Madonna, or Esther, as the kids these days call me. I just want to deny recent reports that I have nothing left to deny. There are many, many scandalous stories left in me, like the one about how I tried to bar hikers from crossing my English estate. Damn, that’s not likely to make Page Six any time soon, is it? Well, how about the rumor that my vanity record label lost money? I guess that’s more Forbes than Star Magazine. Well, what the hell am I supposed to do? I already made out with Britney and Vanilla Ice, for God’s sake. What, do you want me to marry J. Lo? Actually, that’s not a bad idea...
Taking a four-day holiday weekend. Let’s reconvene next Tuesday, shall we?
