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Wednesday, January 17, 2007

When You Puke Upon a Star 

While Dick Cheney busies himself pouring over the private financial records of innocent American civilians, the fugliest man on the planet, (or just behind Cheney, as my friend Jayne argues), Donald Trump was dealt a number of blows this last week, none of them coming from Rosie O’Donnell, mind you.

To compensate for -- how do I say this delicately – an obviously very small penis, this delusional clown revealed his Achilles heel, by revealing his ever-so-desperate need to belong, to feel part of something he’ll never be part of. Laying out a minimum of $15,000, The Chump bought himself a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. No matter how successful The Apprentice was once upon a time, long ago, acting it wasn’t. Nasally sneering “You’re Fired,” looking as ugly as is humanly possible wasn’t exactly a stretch for someone already as ugly as is humanly possible.

Despite The Chump’s hate-filled attack on O’Donnell, the ratings for the newest season of The Apprentice were pitiful. Almost as embarrassing as a man getting his wife and daughter to attack a woman on his behalf, because his own catty claws weren’t drawing any blood.

Watching Mensa…er …Melania and Ivanka Trump both berate and urge Rosie to get help was kind of like watching Dina Lohan chide Lynne Spears for failing to intervene in Britney’s bloated, self-destructive spiral into drug-induced, career-crashing oblivion.

Then came word that Katie Rees, the “dethroned” Miss Nevada, who The Chump determined did not get a second chance, (for antics just slightly less vanilla than former Miss USA, Tara Conner’s, exposing his hypocritical, double standards for what they are), signed a lucrative two-year, $2 million-plus deal to host a revival of an "Beacher’s Madhouse" variety show at the Hard Rock Hotel & Casino in Las Vegas. Essentially laughing all the way to the bank whilst simultaneously telling Trump to take his “second chances” and double standards and shove them up his lily-white, saggy ass.

What is this loser’s problem?

Could it be that he looks like a frightful, bloated, pale multifarious horror blend of a frog, a fish, David Gest, Tim Russert, John Bolton and Big Bird with lips that look like they’ve been bludgeoned with a Botox-filled syringe and then slammed up against glass?

Or could his bitter misogynistic outburst be retaliation for an interview his former wife Ivana Trump gave a while back, touting the virtues of her new, young, handsome, virile boyfriend whilst expressing gratitude for no longer having to share a bed with a man donning what looks like a spray-on comb-over to rival Richard Simmons’ pubic perm? Her elation that sex no longer manifests itself as an unpleasant exercise of Viagra-supported, performance-deficient, wheeze-inducing duty, degraded further by groaning and back pain whining? Enter Don Imus.

The final sledgehammer of desperation from The Chump was an appearance last week on the Don Imus show. Imus, the loud-mouthed, misogynist buffoon who’s homophobic, mid-life crisis morning radio show is simulcast on MSNBC, and who despite extraordinary lengths to position himself as a cowboy, looks like an aging, cocaine-dry-wrinkled cross between the late Ann Richards and Miss Piggy.

Edged on by Imus and his sophomoric crew, The Chump continued his high-school girl tirade against O’Donnell. “I happen to like my hair,” The Chump told Imus. Like an anorexic beauty pageant contestant given a “second chance” claiming to love her cellulite.

I’m not some avowed, die-hard Rosie O’Donnell fan, although I do appreciate her humor from time to time. And this whole ratings-inspired Donald O’Donnell fiasco is a perfect distraction from our President’s not-so-idle threats to Iran and Syria.

It’s just that if Donald Trump has an urge to prove his manhood, challenge someone like Barry Bonds. Threaten to find and catch Osama Bin Laden. Uglifying the Golden Globes and bashing Rosie O’Donnell and Barbara Walters just isn’t that impressive.

Holding up his nine month old son Barron at the ceremony forever cheapening the meaning of the already cheap-meaning stars, The Chump offered these barren pearls: "He's strong, he's smart, he's tough, he's vicious, he's violent — all of the ingredients you need to be an entrepreneur, and most importantly, hopefully he's smart because smart is really the ingredient."

Just what the world needs. Another violent, vicious, arrogant, self-obsessed, nouveau riche asshole with delusions of grandeur and an unhealthy sense of entitlement. Why not skip the charade and buy the little brat his own star too? Hey why not pick out a wife for him to betray while you're at it?

And should you, in the meanwhile, happen to be in Los Angeles and step in dog crap, feel an overwhelming urge to defecate or urinate in public, or puke upon a star (as opposed to being puked upon by a star), there’s a certain star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame…

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