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Paltrow a Hollywood Pariah After Weight-Gain Roller Coaster of Shallow HalDecember 24, 2001 |
Hollywood, CA Ramrod Hurley Actress Paltrow, pudgy and proud
"I don't know what's going on," sighs Paltrow in barely a whisper. "It's like I've got the clap or something. Nobody calls, the doorbell doesn't ring... I haven't heard from my agent in weeks."
Such is the fate of a once in-demand star who dared to play the fat girl.
"Honestly, I'm surprised nobody has tried to hollow out her chest to hole up for the winter. My God. I mean, what was she thinking?" gossiped Hollywood producer Mart Wixle.
Paltrow's star seemed to be unstoppably on the rise until her fatal miscue of accept...
idden away in the dark corners of her ranch-style Hollywood home, where thick oaken blinds strain the noontime sunlight to a dull trickle, former A-list actress Gwyneth Paltrow stares out over the rim of a vodka-and-tonic.
"I don't know what's going on," sighs Paltrow in barely a whisper. "It's like I've got the clap or something. Nobody calls, the doorbell doesn't ring... I haven't heard from my agent in weeks."
Such is the fate of a once in-demand star who dared to play the fat girl.
"Honestly, I'm surprised nobody has tried to hollow out her chest to hole up for the winter. My God. I mean, what was she thinking?" gossiped Hollywood producer Mart Wixle.
Paltrow's star seemed to be unstoppably on the rise until her fatal miscue of accepting a role in the Farrelly brothers' recent Shallow Hal, in which Paltrow plays a morbidly obese North Carolina woman. During the film's production, rumors began to surface about Paltrow's out-of-control weight fluctuations, with various sources placing her anywhere between 110 and 350 pounds on any given day.
"It was insane," stated former co-star Ben Affleck. "One day I'd see her and she'd be the same old Gwyneth, and then the next she looked like she ate a boyscout troup. It was kind of creepy. You think she got into Metabolife or something?"
"Do you think it's that rumor that I'm really a dude?" asked Paltrow during a recent interview. "That went around for a while after I did Shakespeare in Love but I thought it had died down. You never can be too sure with the internet, though. My sister seems to think it's about Shallow Hal but that doesn't make any sense. Everybody knows that was just a fat suit, right?"
"Yeah, we've all heard the fat suit line," quipped Wixle. "That one's older than Bob Hope. Eleanor Roosevelt tried to pull that once, and it was old even back then. A Hydrox cookie suit is more like it, heh."
Few are showing sympathy for Paltrow, who many claim should have taken a hint from the overwhelming public disgust shown when actress Renee Zellweger ballooned up to a corpulent 120 lbs for her role in the limey farce Bridget Jones' Diary. Starlet Julia Roberts also took a public-relations tumble when she was shown eating an entire cracker in the summer comedy America's Sweethearts.
"I mean, get with the program," continued Wixle. "Nobody goes to the movies to see fat people. Walmart's closer and they don't charge admission. People don't want to be confronted with the tubby realities of everyday life when they go to the theater. Did you see Renee in Bridget Jones? Good God, I thought she was going to reach through the screen and eat my popcorn. Somebody get me a lipo tube and a bone saw, we'd better take out some ribs. She must have force-fed herself three meals a day to bulk up like that. Talk about sick."
Paltrow's upcoming film deals appear to be in limbo as no one in Hollywood seems to be willing to share a phone line with her, thanks to rumors around town that fat might be contagious. Her fax machine is still ringing off the hook, however all recent offers have been from talk shows and companies selling miracle weight-loss herbs. Additionally, Paltrow reports that her gardener recently discovered a nest of tabloid photographers living in the azaleas in her front yard. Spraying commences on Wednesday. the commune's Ramrod Hurley takes 'em as he can get 'em... up to 110lbs. Sorry ladies, Ramrod doesn't deal in bulk.
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 April 15, 2002
Jeeter's PhenomenonNow I know you been lookin' at me strange lately, Shorty, an I think the time has showed up for me to do a little explainin'. Thing is, I've been changed, Shorty, and sad as it may be they ain't never no goin' back. A new world been opened up for Jeeter an it's time I got to follow my callin'.
It all started a couple o' weeks ago. I was out at Snuffy's with Carl, you know the fella what has the big compost pile offa Dirt Bank road. Carl had him one of them laser doo-dads the big shots use when they want to point out somethin' they think everybody should notice. An you know Carl, Shorty, weren't long before he was foolin' around with the doo-dad, tryin' to shine it on airplanes that was flyin' by and tryin' to flash it up ladies' skirts and whatnot, an he got himself a little carried away an ended up flashing that doo-dad right in my nekkid eye.
Now I know what you're thinkin', Shorty, but don't get scared now, since I'm here tellin' you this story so you got to know it didn't go an burn out my brain like some science friction nightmare. You still got a partner for the tic-tac-toe tourney next month, an he ain't no hole-in-the-brain mormon, neither. But when Carl done shot that flasher into my eye-ball, I did see a beam o' redness an got dizzy in my head, an when I woke up I was layin' out on the street, ass-deep in a pot hole with no memory about what had gone on beforst.
'Course, Shorty, you know that weren't much different than your...
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Now I know you been lookin' at me strange lately, Shorty, an I think the time has showed up for me to do a little explainin'. Thing is, I've been changed, Shorty, and sad as it may be they ain't never no goin' back. A new world been opened up for Jeeter an it's time I got to follow my callin'.
It all started a couple o' weeks ago. I was out at Snuffy's with Carl, you know the fella what has the big compost pile offa Dirt Bank road. Carl had him one of them laser doo-dads the big shots use when they want to point out somethin' they think everybody should notice. An you know Carl, Shorty, weren't long before he was foolin' around with the doo-dad, tryin' to shine it on airplanes that was flyin' by and tryin' to flash it up ladies' skirts and whatnot, an he got himself a little carried away an ended up flashing that doo-dad right in my nekkid eye.
Now I know what you're thinkin', Shorty, but don't get scared now, since I'm here tellin' you this story so you got to know it didn't go an burn out my brain like some science friction nightmare. You still got a partner for the tic-tac-toe tourney next month, an he ain't no hole-in-the-brain mormon, neither. But when Carl done shot that flasher into my eye-ball, I did see a beam o' redness an got dizzy in my head, an when I woke up I was layin' out on the street, ass-deep in a pot hole with no memory about what had gone on beforst.
'Course, Shorty, you know that weren't much different than your average Saturday night, so I didn't think much nothing of it. But not long after that I started to notice some strange thoughts a-brewin' in the ol' Jeeter brain-trap. Not normal strange thoughts, neither, like thinkin' great big fat womens is sexy. No siree. These was some powerful brain-rumblins about science and maths an' whatnot. An the next thing I know I was in my garage, buildin' on some new-fangled inventions what gonna change the world. Laugh if you might, Shorty, but you won't be who's laughin' when Jeeter's drivin' around in his car what runs offa toilet paper, will ya? An I imagine you'll want to be warmin' up your hands around my new skunk furnace come wintertime, I have to imagine. We're gonna be rich, Shorty, as soon as I get me one of them pattons for my Smellarm Clock an my flypaper wallpaper, I tell you no lie.
But it ain't just that, Shorty. It ain't all just new doo-dads and whatnots I got spinnin' around up in the attic. I got me them deep thoughts as well. Like what for we gotta bury folks in a coffin for, anyhow? It's not like they gonna crawl on up outta the ground we don't nail 'em in a box first. An when you're makin' breakfast chow, what comes first: the chitlins or the eggos? Lots of them head-scratchers scratchin' round up in my head, Shorty.
But don't you worry, old friend. I ain't gonna get no big head just 'cause my head got bigger. I'm still the same ol' Jeeter. Just cause I learnt French last night in one sittin', while you was pickin' your toes and watchin' a fly try to get out the closed window, don't mean we ain't still tight. When we go out to the France restaurant, you an' me, you just let me do the talkin'. When I say "Parkay food, Frenchie?" to the fella in the duck suit, you just keep your trap snapped and we'll be knee-deep in corned beef before you know what.
Stick with me, Shorty. We're headed somewheres. º Last Column: Family Feudº more columns
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|  November 10, 2003
My Wife as a G-DawgI suppose, like me, you have all noticed the vast proliferation of electric products surrounding us these days. Is this getting ridiculous or what? When did all of society become mechanized overnight? Now you can't even go to the bathroom without finding some sort of electric toilet waiting for you.
Before you get worked up in my diatribe, I should let you know that won't be what the column's about this week. It was going to be, I thought I'd give everyone a double-dose of old school Rok Finger, but that was before my wife started swearing like Slappy White. It's her who deprived you of that joyful raving against electricity, good people, so direct those complaints to her. She'll call you the F-word, surely, and then make some gang sign. But it is something I must address, for the world is not spinning on the right axis when Rok Finger, paragon of virtue and stodginess, has a foul-mouthed immigrant wife.
It all began when I kicked up my English-as-a-Second-Language program a notch. I decided it was way past time Felchyana learned to speak like an American, as I was getting so tired of the neighbors asking what was that god-awful screaming in a funny language they kept hearing while I was away at work. If she's going to make a racket, at least make it in English, as the saying I just said goes.
I figured we could share in the learning process together, and she would learn English the same way I learned everything growing up:...
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I suppose, like me, you have all noticed the vast proliferation of electric products surrounding us these days. Is this getting ridiculous or what? When did all of society become mechanized overnight? Now you can't even go to the bathroom without finding some sort of electric toilet waiting for you.
Before you get worked up in my diatribe, I should let you know that won't be what the column's about this week. It was going to be, I thought I'd give everyone a double-dose of old school Rok Finger, but that was before my wife started swearing like Slappy White. It's her who deprived you of that joyful raving against electricity, good people, so direct those complaints to her. She'll call you the F-word, surely, and then make some gang sign. But it is something I must address, for the world is not spinning on the right axis when Rok Finger, paragon of virtue and stodginess, has a foul-mouthed immigrant wife.
It all began when I kicked up my English-as-a-Second-Language program a notch. I decided it was way past time Felchyana learned to speak like an American, as I was getting so tired of the neighbors asking what was that god-awful screaming in a funny language they kept hearing while I was away at work. If she's going to make a racket, at least make it in English, as the saying I just said goes.
I figured we could share in the learning process together, and she would learn English the same way I learned everything growing up: television. I introduced her to basic cable, with its 60+ channels of day-filling programming. I'm not much on TV anymore myself, except for those delightful rerun channels like TV Land and Nick at Nite. If only life could be like that! A rerun. She took an immediate liking to The Jeffersons, and I was delighted to hear her assemble her first full English phrase: "Look, little man is like you." Her darling laugh is so infectious I let it slide, even though, of course, George Jefferson is far from like me; he's a diminutive black man who yells about everything. I am white.
How this led to the swearing I'm not entirely sure. They do allow a lot more saltiness on basic cable than I remember. Some of those channels even make references to birth control and anal leakage—in commercials! It's pandemonium. I think commercials were her downfall, particularly when I noticed she kept gesturing to this commercial for a CD called "The Best of Gangsta Rap, Vol. 13." With Stony Ass-Whippin', Killer D, MC Grabass, Master Cock, and all your other favorites. Of course, I knew she already had my credit card, but I didn't put two and two together until later.
In fact, all the relentless barrage of swear words didn't clue me in at all, and I thought the fact they rhymed was just delightful coincidence. None of it dawned on me until I noticed she was wearing work-out suits and gold chains, or bling-bling, as she referred to it. I confronted her about it, asked her if she was getting involved with a new culture and she insinuated I prefer the company of men.
I can't take her anywhere until I get this fixed. She came to work with me one day when I hoped Stigmata Spent could straighten her out, and she referred to new reporter Shabozz Wertham with a very negative word. I tried to tell him she meant it like he was her homey, but I think I only succeeded in making yet another lifelong enemy. When I make them myself, that's one thing, but I can't have her going around doing my work for me.
This will work itself out, mark my words. TV got me into this mess, TV will get me out. I'm hoping to wean her off onto other niche cultures. I'm convinced if I can get her to sit down for Seinfeld long enough she will lose this whole swearing problem. Or at least offend me in brand new ways. Anything would be an improvement at this point. º Last Column: Respect!º more columns
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Milestones2002: commune staffer writes this ìMilestonesî blurb, causing time to fold in on itself and destroy the universe.Now HiringCharles Bronson. Experienced Charles Bronson needed to pull off some Deathwish-style menacing to scare off Ivana Folger-Balzac once and for all. Five years Charles Bronson experience minimum. Please provide references, and filmography.Top 5 commune Features This Week| 1. | Better Living Through Buggery | | 2. | Tom & Jerry: A Reunion | | 3. | Uncle Macho's Best-Kept Secret Recipes | | 4. | Undercover Exposé: My Three Days as a White Blood Cell | | 5. | Critics' Corner: Books and Shit | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Roland McShyster 5/1/1999 It's Oscar time, America! And you know what that means: It's time to assert our inborn artistic superiority over every other country on the globe! The Oscars are like the Olympics of Entertainment, where we dominate in every event. Just like the real Olympics! Except for the goofy made-up sports like hockey and skiing that they play up in Canada. I'm talking about the real sports here.
Anyway, welcome to my Oscars special! What a load of movies we've got this year, huh? You should thank your lucky stars I'm here to keep you straight on which films to root for. I'm going to give you the straight skinny on my picks for Oscar gold, as well as guiding you through the murky waters of all the nominees. Because, as "The English Patient" proved, sometimes they sneak in a real stinker...
It's Oscar time, America! And you know what that means: It's time to assert our inborn artistic superiority over every other country on the globe! The Oscars are like the Olympics of Entertainment, where we dominate in every event. Just like the real Olympics! Except for the goofy made-up sports like hockey and skiing that they play up in Canada. I'm talking about the real sports here.
Anyway, welcome to my Oscars special! What a load of movies we've got this year, huh? You should thank your lucky stars I'm here to keep you straight on which films to root for. I'm going to give you the straight skinny on my picks for Oscar gold, as well as guiding you through the murky waters of all the nominees. Because, as "The English Patient" proved, sometimes they sneak in a real stinker just to make sure we're paying attention. May the best film win!
Best Picture:
Elizabeth
Yeah, like I'd go to see a chick flick. And a FOREIGN chick flick at that. You can waste
your money if you want to, but I hear they're playing "Beloved" down at the dollar
theater.
Life is Beautiful
Product placement is getting truly out of hand in today's entertainment features. Now
they're even sneaking it into movie titles, and I say the buck should stop here! I
don't give a damn if Mikey likes it! Keep him out of my Multiplex!
Saving Pirate Ryan
Hands-down the best pirate film since Muppet Treasure Island. The touching, emotional story of a captain's voyage to rescue Pirate Ryan from the Island of the Cyclops Women. Stephen Seagal's directorial debut shines as a true gem of American cinema. Unfortunately, the Academy has not been kind to pirate movies in the past (see Muppet Treasure Island, above) so I don't honestly see this picture bringing home the naked guy.
Shakespeare in Love
Although not the first porno to be nominated for an Oscar (see Titanic, Raging Bull), I have to admit this one might have a shot. Starring Bill Paxton as the beard himself, and Courtney Love as herself, in a movie written by Courtney Love. I'd at least give her the worthless "best screenplay" trophy just for having the balls to write herself into history this way. The MTV generation has a lot of pull with Academy Voters (see previous Best Picture winner, "Empire of the Sun", the Rage Against the Machine tour video) so Love's film may go home with the "Best Kiss" Oscar as well.
The Thin Red Line
Absolutely my pick for the Best Picture of the year. All those trim Russian soldiers marching about, how can you beat it? Definitely the best "Capitalist Pigs Must Die" film of the year.
Best Director:
Terrence Trent D'Arby, The Thin Red Line
Who'd of thought such a pantywaist could direct such a great, macho film? Except for the spurious inclusion of his late-80's hit "Wishing Well" during a Red Army marching sequence, D'Arby's direction is flawless, and I'm personally impressed. I'd have expected him to be a cashier at D'Arby's by now. I'd place him as the front runner for the Oscar if it weren't for the fact that I think all of the other nominated directors could kick his ass to Cleveland and back.
John Madden, Shakespeare in Love
Only a real meathead roughneck like Madden could keep Courtney Love in line during the filming of this difficult movie. He's been quoted as saying that his years in the NFL were only meager preparation for dealing with his star.
Benito Mussolini, Life is Beautiful
Living proof that you can bounce back from a rocky past, and that Hollywood forgives just about anybody. Except for the Hollywood YMCA, you pee in their pool once and you're out, buddy.
Stephen Seagal, Saving Pirate Ryan
Definitely the director to beat, especially because he can kick almost anyone's ass. This category raises the interesting question of who's the bigger badass: Seagal or Mussolini?
Peter Weller, The Truman Show
Who better than Mr Robocop himself to direct Truman Capote's masterpiece? The only real tragedy of the Oscars this year is to think that The Truman Show didn't get nominated for Best Picture. But I'm sure Peter Weller will get his revenge. I wonder if he's got a 16mm camera mounted on his machine-gun arm, or how that works? He's probably the only nominated director who can develop his own film, and who is bulletproof. Kick ass.
Best Actor:
Tom Hanks, Saving Pirate Ryan
In a harrowing, grizzled performance as Capt. Turner, Hanks brings us closer to the heart of a drunk old pirate who talks to his stump than many of us would have ever cared to be. Definitely Hanks' best performance since his turn as the Philadelphia Fanatic in Major League 2.
Ian McKellen, Gods and Monsters
Never satisfied with resting on his laurels from his early success as the tall kid in Our Gang who never said anything, McKellen is back in this remake of "Clash of the Titans". Now set in suburban Long Island, the film features McKellen in a stirring performance, playing an aging Barbarian who falls in love with Jason Priestly. Sure to get the Barbarian vote from the Academy.
Benito Mussolini, Life is Beautiful
Mussolini reveals himself to be a deft physical comedian, leaving audiences howling in disbelief that the WWII leader of fascist Italy can fall down a flight of stairs and land on his feet.
Nick Nolte, Afflecktion
Although the film was nothing but a shameless rip-off of Multiplicity, Nolte burns up the screen as the mad scientist who brings the hundreds of Ben Affleck clones into being. Nolte aptly displays the horror inherent in finding oneself surrounded by hundreds of Afflecks, all bobbing their heads and gelling their foofy hair in unison.
Edward Norton, American History X
Who the hell is Edward Norton?
Best Actress/Supporting Actress:
The Academy's gag category this year. You don't believe me? Go ahead, name three women who are nominated. I'm waiting. Most of the names listed as best actress and best supporting actress nominees this year are actually the names of Academy members' children and pets. You heard it here first.
Best Supporting Actor:
James Coburn, Afflecktion
Playing Quasimodo to Nolte's Dr Frankenstein, Coburn is touching as a hunched old fart who babbles on about WWII.
Robert Duvall, A Cybil Action
Executive producer Cybil Shepherd displays both her megalomania and her lack of creativity in the naming of this film, a rote action flick redeemed only by a stunning performance by Robert Duvall as an ex-preacher who uses his Louisville Slugger to collect on drug debts.
Ted Harris, The Truman Show
I have to admit, after Cheers ended I thought Ted's career was a goner. But he really pulls it out of the crapper as Kansas farmer William Clutter during the "In Cold Blood (Use Tide!)" segment of Capote's magnificent film. Harris was quite believable in the role, especially when his toupee didn't come off during the strangulation scene.
Geoffrey Rush, Shakespeare in Love
Who?
Billy Bob Thornton, A Cybil Plan
Cybil Shepherd strikes again with this unfortunately titled film in the crime thriller genre. Thornton proves that he can play a retard for every occasion with this role as an autistic Midwestern auto sales manager who accidentally kills a hooker and has his idiot friends try to help hide the body. Easily Thornton's best performance since Good Morning Vietnam.
And that's a wrap! Best of luck in stalking your favorite celebs at the Awards Show this year! Or if you won't be making it to the ceremony, may your favorites take home the gold! Unless your favorites were one of the weak foreign films that inevitably gets nominated, in that case tough luck. Here's a quarter, call somebody who cares. And be sure to tune in next month for more of the new reviews that you've come to depend on!   |
