I'm making no apologies for
my delight in this story. I know there are innocent babes involved,
babes that apparently spend little time with their parents who too busy
cavorting about with others (if the tabs are to be believed...and I
always believe the tabs when it's a story I want to believe). But even if there are innocent children/bystanders, I still relish the
angst of the Gosselin parents. Yes, you read that right. I fucking relish it.
Why? Jon and Kate --
parents of the eight permanently scarred Gosselin children -- are everything
that is wrong with American consumption and fame. Popular for
doing nothing more than breeding excessively, the Gosselins prided themselves
on their books, their television specials, the media blitz over something
as stupid and small as Kate's faux punk rock hairdo. (Whatever,
Kate, I had that `do back in `95 only instead of warping children's
brains, I was getting wasted at punk-rock shows like a proper lady.)
And even though Jon could easily qualify as King of the Eunuchs for
never standing up to his nightmare of a wife, I say he's just as guilty
as the raving loon he married. Note to men: Not all women want
to cut your balls off.
Anyway, the Gosselins charged
their tab with goodies and celebrity status aplenty.
And now the bill has come due.
Good. Good, I say.