NEW YORK, NY – First person to name the band who has an eighties song, Careless Memories , wins… something. I give the odds to Mrs. Matt, with Dude a close second. I give Tall Matt (see video) an outside shot, but only for cheating and Goggling it.
This week, I’ve decided to make this column a bit careless and carefree. Going back to old Cookie style, mixing it up with celeb and sports stuff of the week. And here we go:
I KIDD You Not: This week, it seems that retired, old New Jersey Nets – No sleep ’til Brooklyn star – Jason Kidd pulled his best Lizzy Grubman by operating his vehicle drunk in the Hamptons and making a big crash. Idiot. TIME OUT! He’s the future of the NBA!
T.O. To Pay The D-O-U-G-H: Add ‘dead-beat Dad’ to the long list of names you can call Terrell Owens, as his baby mama (to a seven-year old) took court action to get payment on a $12K child support obligation. The unemployed T.O.’s statement (thru his attorney) was that since he’s not making the same NFL cashola, he’s not able to pay the child support that was based off his NFL income. An arrangement has been made, and he will be paying. Antonio Cromartie, take note.. and please stand by on your phone. T.O. needs to chit chat with an expert.
Fred Willard’s Willy: Septuagenarian and part of Christopher Guest’s fave posse, Fred Willard was arrested Wednesday night in LA for ‘lewd conduct.’ Apparently, he was caught with his pants down in an adult movie theater in West Hollywood. Kinda brings back the memory of Pee Wee Herman being busted for the same thing. I mean, if there is ANYWHERE to drop trou and spank the monkey, isn’t in an adult movie theater? West Coast Craig, we need your 411 on this please. And speaking of spanking the monkey…
Tom Cruise’s Monkey Necklace: Following a uber-quickie divorce settlement, the now thrice-divorced Tom Cruise turned up in NYC to spend time with his daughter, Suri. Taking her to Chelsea Piers for tumbling class (Mission Impossible 4 stunt double training perhaps?) and also for a helicopter ride around NYC. All the while, toting the girl around like one of those stuffed monkeys that you can Velcro around your neck and waist. It’s so annoying to even know the paparazzi waste the JPEGs on this.
Speaking of wasted JPEG’s... here’s one of yours truly after a passable performance at this season’s only sprint distance triathlon. Last year’s performance, a distant memory… I improved by over nine minutes, going sub 1:20. Paparazzi were waved off.
Come on back tomorrow for someone who does a great wave, The Public Professor.