One Day at a Time

MONDAY, OCTOBER 5 Welcome to another week where we serve
up the steamiest turds from Tinseltown, dears! Now, let’s be honest:
Last week’s gossip roundup was a rough one—full of
chimo celebs (Roman Polanski), devastating discoveries
(Justin Timberlake‘s already dating Rihanna, like
two secs after dumping the fish-faced Jessica Biel? He didn’t
even give us a chance!), and quiver-inducing quotations (“It is a
crease in the young lady’s panties,” sayeth skeevy So You Think You
Can Dance judge Nigel Lythgoe, for reasons we’d rather not
go into). So, we’re going to do our very best to make this week’s One
Days uplifting, cheerful, and inspiring! Ready? Let’s do it! WELL…
CRAP. That didn’t last long. Just in case you’re one of those few
rubes who has any faith left in the human race, get ready to
kiss it goodbye. Last year—right when Econopocalypse 2008 caused the worldwide financial system to tank—”banks and credit
unions made an eye-popping $24 billion in overdraft fees,”
reports the Huffington Post, citing a study by the nonprofit the Center
for Responsible Lending. In other words? While you were losing money,
banks were making money—and making money because you had
no money. Sigh. This week’s gonna be just as depressing as last week,
isn’t it?

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 6 We spoke too soon! Even when we’re at our most
mopey, Sarah Palin has a tendency of popping up and saying
something truly stupid—which is kinda life affirming, albeit in
its own sad little way, right? And while we don’t have anything
directly from Caribou Barbie this week, we do have news about
what Levi Johnston‘s been up to! The former boyfriend (and baby
daddy!) of Palin’s daughter Bristol, Levi’s riding his
pseudo-fame right into the enthralling world of (wait for it…)
pistachio advertising! Earlier this year, there was a national
recall on pistachio nuts (Salmonella? Whoopsie!), and desperate
to polish their image the Wonderful Pistachio company recruited
Levi to appear in an ad. The new commercial shows the
teen—wearing a T-shirt with the state of Alaska on it, and
accompanied by a hefty bodyguard—cracking a pistachio. The
tagline? “Now Levi Johnston does it with protection!” Because of the
bodyguard, you see! Ha! Oh, Everything and Everyone Remotely
Connected to Sarah Palin: How you make us laugh. And laugh, and
laugh, and laugh.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 7 “Dr. Phil is being sued by a woman who
claims the TV shrink held her captive inside his production offices,
forced her to stare at a naked man—and then grabbed her
left breast,” gleefully reports TMZ.com (at least they were classy enough to run
the tasteful headline, “Dr. Phil Trapped Me, Touched My Boob”).
Shirley Dieu filed the suit in Los Angeles, claiming that when
she sought therapy from Dr. Phil, he tried to “brainwash” her
and subjected her to physical and emotional abuse—like being “in
the same room with a completely naked live man while he exposed
his entire naked body, genitals and all”—and that when she tried
to escape, she was “blocked by the staff.” (We’re assuming she means
“restrained by the employees of the facility,” but in a case like this,
a phrase like that can have ever so many meanings.) Dieu also claims
that Dr. Phil “touched her left breast during her therapy session,” and
since her accusations bear some remarkable similarities to the last
weekend we spent in Old Town, we feel we can offer a smidge of
unsolicited advice: Hon, you simply have to add some
compensation for pain and suffering into this suit. Just the
thought of Dr. Phil getting frisky is giving us PTSD—in
fact, we’d be happy to turn this into a whole class-action deal, if
you’d like.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 8 This week the news broke that Marge
Simpson will appear on the cover of an upcoming issue of
Playboy, inspiring 1,000 lazy news editors to write 1,000
lazy headlines proclaiming “Aye Carumba!” Playboy says the
pictorial inside will feature “implied nudity.” IN RELATED
NEWS… Print media continues its screeching death throes,
desperately clawing at each and every dumbshit idea it can in a
pathetic attempt to regain relevance. Um… except for this newspaper,
of course. Obviously. Right. Moving on!

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 9 Today President Barack Obama won the
Nobel Peace Prize. While an American president being granted
such an honor isn’t unprecedented—Teddy Roosevelt,
Woodrow Wilson, and Jimmy Carter all scored
Nobels—seeing Obama win one, and hearing him humbly react with a
vow to “accept this award as a call to action, a call for all nations
to confront the challenges of the 21st century”… well, it’s almost
enough to bring a tear to our eyes. At the very least, it was enough to
make us forget about that creepy Marge Simpson business.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 10 [Note: Today’s entry for One Day at a Time
will be written by Hubby Kip, who’s been so verklempt about the
following news that he’s been silently weeping all day. We can’t blame
him, we suppose; he feels roughly the same way about the person in
question that we feel about our beloved George Clooney. Take it away,
Kip! And for god’s sake, stop whimpering like a goddamn
toddler.—Ann] Thank you, Annie. Attention readers:
Well, well, WELL! CHRISTINA HENDRICKS got MARRIED this weekend!
You might not know who “CHRISTINA HENDRICKS” is, but I bet you DO know
who she is on the TELEVISION, and that’s JOAN from MAD
MEN! You fellas know who I’m talkin’ ’bout!
Va-va-VOOM, am I right? (I’m right.) For those of
you whose wives actually let them watch SportsCenter and not
just boring TV, Mad Men is a boring show full of boring people
who wear stupid clothes and talk about old-timey crap. It’s like
That ’70s Show, except there’s no funny foreign kid. Anyway, I
only watch Mad Men for two reasons—and both of ’em are
Joan’s! No, for real, though, every once in a while, somebody’s FOOT
GETS RUN OVER BY A LAWNMOWER, which, I will admit, is pretty sweet.
Anyway. Have you SEEN Joan? AM I RIGHT? So Joan or Christina or
whatever you wanna call her got MARRIED to some DORKY LOOKIN’ DUDE
today, and if I ever see that dude, I’m gonna punch him, ’cause I
guarantee you he don’t deserve what he’s got, ’cause it’s a FACT that Christina Hendricks is the Hottest Piece of Ass on the Planet. Uh,
except for Annie. P.S. I am totally not crying right now and I don’t
know why Annie would write that because that is a lie. [Thank
you, dear. Now be a good boy and take out the garbage while we try to
salvage this week’s column.—Ann]

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 11 It’s official: Suri, the spawn of Tom
Cruise and his child bride Katie Holmes, will not be going
to a Scientology preschool, but rather a Catholic preschool!
“The Church of Scientology has always been a bone of contention between
the couple and Tom wanted three-year-old Suri to be raised a
Scientologist,” the Daily Mail reports. “But last week Katie
enrolled the toddler at the Catholic Charities Yawkey Centre for
Early Education and Learning in Boston, Massachusetts.” What might
be good news for Suri, however, is bad news for Scientologists
everywhere, according to Emperor Klaktu of Rigel VII.
“Balderdash and hipperwhistle!” bellowed the emperor when reached for
comment. “Our Scientology Consciousness-Training Centers utilize only
the finest in Cardassian thetan-cleansing technology and
Andorian holo-mindwipes! How will young Suri learn of the
prophet L. Ron‘s message to humanity? How will she learn to
survive taunts from Earth’s unenlightened plebeians? How will she know
how to avoid Thangarian snare-beasts? Will Katie’s beloved
‘Centre for Early Education and Learning’ teach young Mistress Suri any
of these things? Bah! I think not!” IN RELATED NEWS… Today the
Catholic Charities Yawkey Centre for Early Education and
Learning was vaporized in an Independence Day-style
explosion, most likely caused by a powerful laser emanating from the
general direction of the Rigel System. When reached for comment,
Emperor Klaktu only asked that we pass on the message that
Headmaster Xanthor is “eagerly anticipating” greeting Suri,
along with the rest of this parsec-year’s brood-class.