Every thirty years, I pick up a National Enquirer. For reals, not since I'm ten and lovin' John Travolta circa Grease. It seems so flimsy for $3.49, which could get me four rolls of toilet paper. Forgive me, I have some kind of bug, so I figured some noxious gossip would cure me.
According to NE, Julia's marriage is in trouble because Danny is surfing too much. Say it ain't so! Could he really be like Keanu in Point Break? I envision a teary Julia saying, "You got that look in your eye" before Danny squeaks away in his wet suit, ditching her and his three kids. I mean, who would choose a surf board over Julia (and her guzillions and that smile and the amazing amounts of time you could spend in a knitting store with her)?
Message to Danny: You may be hot but if you leave her, you will never find a woman to rename a production company after you again. She is as good as you will ever, ever get. In fact, she is better. Divorce will render you penniless, blacklisted, it will be your fault even if it isn't, your kids will loathe you and you will find yourself covered in barf in a skanky Motel 6 room with god-knows-who next to you, greasy hair and no money. Think about it.
Then again, one should never believe gossip and I hope this story isn't true.
2 comments:
National Enquirer??? Get a grip Dish, it's just a rag! You should buy the toilet paper!
Yah, I ain't buying that rag for another 30 years. But now I have something to wipe my ass with.
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