bush approval rating Brain Farts Brain Fart brain farts brain fart brain-fart brain-farts brainfart brainfarts LEO Louisville Eccentric Observer parody lampoon satire Louisville Kentucky Kevin Gibson kgramone@aol.com kgramone humor cat's ass fart anna kournikova zeitgeist bush approval rating
Brain Farts was a weekly humor column that ran in the Louisville Eccentric Observer from mid-2000 until the summer of 2002. It was, well, eccentric. And occasionally satirical. And sardonic. Some liked it, some hated it; some just didn't get it, and that's OK. There were times when I didn't get it either. I've compiled here some of the archives from Brain Farts for the enjoyment of friends, family and anyone else who happens by. I also have written some new Brain Farts, and added some links and other trivialities that you shouldn't be too concerned with.
Unless you're as bored as I am.
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Brain Farts: Bring It On, J. Lo |
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By Kevin Gibson |
I hereby challenge Jennifer Lopez to a fight.
Why am I picking on "J. Lo", as her majesty would have us call her? Because she's an arrogant, self-important, spoiled little twerp, that's why. And she's ugly.
My anger began when she was dating that moron Sean "Puffy" Combs (or Puff Daddy or P. Diddy or whatever the hell he's calling himself this week), and then had the nerve to act surprised when he got her arrested.
Then she decided to change her name. Why do people do this? The rest of us are perfectly happy with the names our parents gave us and don't have time for such self-indulgent horse manure. You know you've reached a certain plateau of pompousness when you can go around telling people what to call you. I think it would be hilarious if she decided to change her name to "Prince." Hey, he abandoned it. But I'll bet if J. Lo decided she wanted it, he would run screaming and blubbering to his lawyers, crying "foul." Jerk.
And let me just say that anyone who needs an entourage as big as the one Lopez travels with -- she has, like, 5 gazillion body guards and "assistants" -- is deeply, deeply insecure. How many times can one person's ass be kissed in a day's time before it starts to chap and crack? Get a friggin' identity, already.
What finally set me off though wasn't her use of the 'n' word in that song "I'm Real" (the fact she feels the need to tell us she's real tells me she's really not), or even the fact that "The Wedding Planner" was one of the most god-awful pieces of Hollywood schlock I've ever seen. (Although I must admit I ejected it after about 20 minutes. Maybe the ending was good.)
No, it's actually the latest report from the set of her next movie, "Gigli," that angered me to the point of physical violence. The article I read reported that she has actually requested that the extras in the film not look at her. Seriously. I'm not kidding.
Now, it's true this story might be exaggerated or is perhaps even blatantly untrue, but given past history of what we call "pop divas," I'm willing to entertain the notion.
The anonymous source who provided the story said, "Apparently, extras looked at her while she was making the video, 'I'm Real.' It made her really uncomfortable, so we've been warned not to make eye contact with her." Next she will require they not breathe her oxygen.
Asked for comment by the news service that ran the report, Lopez's PR folks strategically commented, "You are very stupid if you run this item."
So, I'm ready to fight. No gloves, no entourage. Just her and me, diva a mano. I will prevail. And then I will promptly change my name to Farty G.
E-mail the writer at kgramone@aol.com. By the way, Britney: You're next.