Just my two sense...

Hello people. This is [who gives a s***] with my first in a series of weekly posts. I'll rant for the most part about things that just make me go hmmmmmm... (we all have one right?) My word is not bond, so before you scream at your monitor in disagreement at my OPINION, just remember that disclaimer. I have a bunch to talk about and a lot to say but I'll try to keep it under 500 words and only post on Friday. Today I'd like to talk about the recent death of Anna Nicole Smith.

When a celebrity falls from our graces they inevitably become the butt of all jokes (see Paris, Britney, Nicole, and Lindsey for example). But shouldn’t there be some honor in death? When I first received the news of Anna Nicole Smith’s death, for some strange reason I was saddened. Firstly because I felt I’d lost someone with whom I was closely associated with. But it then got worse because, mainly, I correlated her with someone real in my life. For all intents and purposes, Anna Nicole was a voluptuous woman--- fluxuating weight notwithstanding. My fiancée is about her height and voluptuous as well. So here I was in my apartment deeply saddened because my woman was--- gone! When in truth she was at work and all was well. But it just brought me to realize Anna was--- human. A person who just became another victim of that beast called Hollywood.

I bet any one of you (man or woman) reading this now who had to walk in the same shoes as she did would wind up meeting that same fate on that Florida hotel lobby floor as well. Look at the circumstances. Firstly, living in an inopportune city with a high school education. If you’re hot, you’re gonna hit that pole for some change. And if an old billionaire with a thick wallet and a bag of Viagra happens to see your show and wanted to have the best sendoff to heaven, I bet you would put on them clear heels and dance for Daddy. And if your new stepson tried to jack you out of millions promised to you, I bet you would beat ‘um like he stole something.

Then comes Hollywood. To a naive young woman from a small town in Texas you’re just open. Open to becoming a B-movie, soft core queen. Open to taking in the excesses of your vices. Open to the scrutiny, invasive paparazzi, and misguided steps. Not to come off as a cliché (which is one all in itself) but aren’t we all guilty of an 'oops' at one point and time? Does that mean that even when one passes there is nothing good that could be said about them? Not even a moment of mourning? Even James Brown crazy ass got sent off like Biggie Smalls! Hell, Marilyn Monroe led the same life as she and died of 'mysterious' circumstances but she gets a stamp and is idolized even to this day… how twisted are we?

[generic signoff]