What a weekend!
It all started with my losing a bet to a very drunk Barbara Walters. I was sure I could out-drink her...shot for shot of tequila. Thinking her already wobbly (and uncomfortably flirty) body would ensure an effortless victory for me, I failed to consider the difference in body mass. Oh, and her galvanized gut.
The bet? Loser endures a Brazilian Wax. You know. Where the violently rip all the hair off a kitty.
I took my loss with the grace you would expect, holding my bald head high as I farted in her general direction upon my exit. Hair or no hair, I'm still super-sexy (and clearly classy). Plus, I find great comfort in knowing the raging rumors at ABC indicate Barbara's fur is in far greater need of attention than mine!
My freshly exposed skin, though chapped from the cold air, is not what chapped my ass about my weekend, though! Somehow, the media whore, Britney, caught wind of my new do and decided to copy me. AND grab all the tabloid attention she could while doing it.
I know that you were mad when my Agent banned you from cat-sitting for us, Spears and I get that you're still a little miffed that I leaked the details of your divorce papers. But, let's call this what it is: STOLEN THUNDER.
Britney Spears, I expect an apology from you within 24 hours and $2648.94 for my custom-designed, authentic chinchilla fur, full-body toupee. I actually don't give a crap about the apology, but please get the cash to me right away. They won't deliver my wig until I pay...AND THE OSCARS ARE THIS WEEKEND! The last thing I want is to have you looking like me and the public mistakenly thinking it's I who wants to look like you!
Damn Barbara Walters, her tequila and José Eber (who, curiously, carries wax on him when he attends Barbara's parties)!