Given all of the legal wrangling this past week about Anna Nicole Smith, I do not really know why I need to say this except to make the record clear. I am probably one of the few virile men in this part of the country that is not claiming to be the father of Ms. Smith daughter. In fact, I am NOT the father of her child.
We all want our day in the spotlight, but come on. This is the Judge Jerry Springer Show. Gentlemen (and I use that word lightly), is this really how you want to be remembered?
I never met Anna Nicole Smith. I do not know her. And, if not for the vicious rumor that I might be the father of her child (which I started), I would not have to deny this grossly inaccurate allegation.
Now we all agree that Anna Nicole Smith put the "fun" back in dysfunctional, but when does this just turn into a circus sideshow?
Anna Nicole Smith stands for most everything for which I do not care. Plastic boobs. Bleached blond hair. She had a smile like Mr. Ed. She even use to work at Red Lobster and, with the exception of their cheese biscuits, I do not like that restaurant.
Please. Please. Please. I like watching the news. Can we please cover something else?
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