Dunston Checks In

My inamorato, in addition to being the love of my life (a full-time job in and of itself) is a bottomless source of current news events, and in this capacity he tends to be as thorough as he is faithful to report. I often call him "Mr. Sunshine," so relentless is he at ensuring I am privy to all the gory details of man's inhumanity to man, woman, and child. Over dinner at home or as we drive here and there in traffic so terrifying it would stun a bullfrog ribbitless, he seamlessly regurgitates sound bytes ingested from talk radio and cable news. We do not take a newspaper. Why should we? I have my own personal live-feed link to all things journalistic. After all, inquiring minds do want to know ... and for those minds, at least the ones at our house, there is The Gregory.

This evening he returned home from work and found me sitting in my chair, numb-fingered and hollow-eyed, pretending to solve a crossword puzzle. After delivering my kiss he plunked down on the sofa, put his slippers on his feet, and semi-reclined to read his book. He was not hungry just yet, he said; he'd heat up some leftovers "in a little bit." (This totally works for me.) Cable news was on the TV as usual, and for a few minutes The Gregory unwound. Then, out of nowhere, he saw fit to share this priceless morsel:

"Dunston Cursed entered rehab."

Stunned as ribbitless as a bullfrog in the middle of I-26, I looked up from sixteen across and doubtfully eyed my mate. Funnily, my mind being the Venus Flytrap that it is, even though before my eyes materialized the image of a chimpanzee in loud boxer shorts, I IMMEDIATELY KNEW WHO HE WAS REALLY TALKING ABOUT. My darling husband had just informed me that the actress Kirsten Dunst had checked into a rehab center (in Utah, as it turns out) within the last day or so. Did I hear someone suggest that he himself is leading a double life involving controlled substances and also needs to be checked into rehab? Thank you no, my man is stone cold sober. He just got confused and tung-tangled! Has this never happened to you?

My father-in-law, who is profoundly hard of hearing, once referred to my favorite actor as Johnny Deff. Of course I prefer that to the more obvious Donny Jepp, but let's face it: the man's name ain't broke so let's not try to fix it. But I don't mind if we skew the monikers of certain other of Hollyweird's most-lauded denizens, to include ... oh, I don't know ... Cleorge Gooney, Lude Jaw, Com Truise and his lovely wife Hatie Kolmes Truise, Balle Herry, Rolia Juberts, Hom Tanks, Gwynow Paltreth ... and let us not forget Dunston's fellow compulsive rehabbers, Spritney Bears and Losey Lindhan.

And in an election year you've got to agree it's fun to wonder how the golden tickets will get printed up. Who will Clenator Sinton choose as her running mate, should she secure the nomination? Will she offer the olive branch to Obackarama? That's too bad about Nitt Momrey. Will Hike Muckabee run as Mondo Cane's veep? We shall have to sate and wee. I freely admit that throughout the Bush2 administration I have remorselessly referred to the wife of our Vice President as Lon Chaney. So sue me!

But back to celebridiots ... one notable such person, an aging egotistical provocateur we'll call Demonna, on Wednesday evening had trouble remembering the geographical identity of the very (sacred) soil her expensively-shod hooves teetered upon. Standing smack-dab in the middle of New York City she told her audience something along these lines: We're not in America. Uhm ... hey Madonna ... I've got news for you, luv. It is called America ... The United States of America. Yes it is. Trust me.

Comments

[Becca Cabaltica]

Dear Aunt Jenny,

Hi! I thoroughly enjoyed reading today's blog. It reminded me of my Dad who talks of Brad Spitt and Harry Popper... : ) Keep the stories coming as it can be a great stress relief for a few minutes between dirty diapers, dirty dishes and dirty laundry. We love you!

Becca

[Jennifer]

Love you right back, doll! Stress relief is my middle name! When are you coming to see me? Pool season I hope, LOL!