In reading CNN.com today, I was overwhelmed by the number of articles that caught my eye as potentially blog-worthy. I mean, overwhelmed. How would I ever be able to choose one? How could I write about Donald Rumsfeld testifying before the Senate Appropriations committee, assuring them that border duty wouldn't unduly stretch our already-overtaxed National Guard troups, while I ignored the news that the White House has agreed to brief Congress at large on their NSA wiretapping activities? How could I simply eschew the Senate's immigration plan, which includes the granting of citizenship to a good chunk of the 11 to 12 million illegal immigrants living within US borders, while focusing attention on the fact that The Da Vinci Code opened last night in Cannes to screams and hollers -- not from offended Christians and umbraged Catholics, but from critics and journalists who thought the movie kinda sucked? So I decided to ignore all of them, and talk about the one item that I deemed of universal, earth-shattering importance.
Paul McCartney's getting a divorce.
Shut UP! Now, that's what I call news, brother. Paul McCartney, he who was married forever to Linda, and was barely on the market for three years after her death before hooking up with Heather Mills, is now getting a very expensive divorce. Which means he's on the market again. Which means I need to really start working out.
Oh, you don't think I have a shot at Paul McCartney? Puh-LEEEZE. I'm cute. Damn cute. At least as cute as Heather Mills. And smart. And I can write. And I can sing, which, let's be honest here, is more than Linda could do, may she rest in peace. Granted, I'm not a vegan, but I could learn for Paul. Soy, soy, soy... all about the soy, Sir Paul. I won't eat anything with a face... that's my motto. (She said, polishing off the first half of her avocado and swiss burger.)
And the best part for him is, I don't really want to get married. And I'm through having babies. Look, I'm not asking for something whirlwind, Paul. We've all learned that marrying haste leads to repenting in leisure. We'll take it slow. And I promise not to badmouth Heather, who is a lovely girl, I'm sure. A bit too thin for you, but otherwise quite charming, I've no doubt. It was just one of those things, I know. I know how these things go. Paparrazzi. The pressures of celebrity. Yes, yes... tell me all about it....
We'll start slow. Dinner. A movie. Maybe a little miniature golf. And we'll see where it goes. Call me.