Message With A Bottle

I’ll allow myself to digest a small amount of celebrity news each day. Most of it comes by accident — radio, office conversation or Twitter trend but a bulk of my celebrity gossip comes on the toilet. It arrives in magazine form — a yearly subscription to US Weekly. I buy it every Christmas for the Permanent Roommate because it’s the only present she really, truly requests each year. 

The new issue is always on top of the cabinet, right next to the porcelain thinking chair. This will all have a connection to parenting, I swear, just bare with me. I’ll browse through, get annoyed after a few pages, and pass the rest of the time by staring at my toes. The most recent issue has a cover of the heartbroken Robert Pattinson and the inset pic is of his ex, Slow White. You know the whole cheating thing going on so don’t act like you haven’t been following the news. If I know about this shit, you sure as hell have a clue. The headline reads (paraphrasing) that an emotionally crushed Rob refuses to speak to KStooge and is “hiding out at Reese Witherspoon’s house.” 

Celebrities! There just like us! Except, we hide from our ex’s at Barnes & Noble and in our parents attic while they hide out in the guest room of Academy Award winning actress who are, oh yeah, unbelievably hot. Yes, I’ve got a thing for Reese Witherspoon and that thing is called my penis. Anyway, as I’m reading this headline I’m dreaming up a whole Robert and Reese sitcom idea (He’s heartbroken! She’s married with two kids! They made a movie about elephants and he just adopted them all! Can everyone live under one roof?!? Reese’s Pieces. This fall on CBS! ) and it dawns on me that Witherspoon is like five or six months pregnant. 

What an awful place to crash. Isn’t this the last place a single, young and famous dude wants to hang? With a married pregnant woman. Here is a sample conversation. 

“I’m pretty upset, I just got cheated on.”

“I just pissed my pants in the middle of Sears and my nipples are on fire.”

Eh, might be a little too edgy for CBS. Reese’s Pieces! This fall on Fox! 

I’ve lived with a woman who was five months pregnant. Sure, she wasn’t at her worst (ninth month was like a passage out of Revelations), but she wasn’t exactly a supportive ball of happiness and hope. She was miserable, and had every right to be, because another human being was sucking her will to live. She made me miserable, and I had every right to be, because another human being was sucking my will to live. 

The home of a pregnant woman is no place for a man. Not even the guy that knocked her up. 

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