Los Angeles–ahh, after ten days back there on muggy Cape Cod, it’s good to be back to good old ninety-five degree dry heat. It was all clam rolls, mini-golf, ice cream, and holding doors for people in polo shirts tucked into belted shorts with socks, but now it’s back to burritos and thai food and hipster hats for the WCClan.
Our house sitter, a very cool, self-possessed girl from the block making some bucks before heading back to college in a couple of weeks, ably kept the place from burning down. She neatened it up place great . . . I’d given her permission to party, and judging from the boxes of Tecate in the recycling bin it looks like she took me up on it. That and the two condom wrappers hidden on the bathroom shelf behind a family photo, no doubt put there by some lucked out college bozo who couldn’t find the trash and couldn’t wait to get busy.
All this is by way of awkward segue to the Chad Johnson story. I’ve been unplugged from sports and pretty much everything else the last few days, and only now just caught up on the excellent MtM posts of the last five days.
For Johnson, it also all began with a box of condoms, purchased and, when asked if he needed a receipt, the former Ochocinco must’ve been distracted by the latest Katy Holmes diet headlines and mumbled hi assent, then tossed it in the trunk to later be found by Evelyn Lozado, his wife of a rich and full forty days (whom he apparently proposed to while playing Call of Duty).
Lozado, no doubt thinking this would make a dramatic beat if not an entire episode for the reality show they’re shooting for VH1 — the cleverly named Ev and Ocho — took a look. As conflict is the essence of drama, the ensuing argument ended with heads being butted, a laceration over her eye, his arrest for domestic battery, and his subsequent release from the Miami Dolphins, thus undoubtedly giving that episode of Hard Knocks its highest ratings of the year.
How many reality shows does Johnson have? Obviously he’s having less and less time for, you know, real reality. Though now that he’s “between jobs” he may have some more. He’ll get picked up again at some point; as long as Terrell Owens has a job, Johnson still has hope.
But being a rent-a-player is not the best way to go through the waning years of a career, unless Johnson’s looking to change his name one day to Chad Ochoteamo. Iif he doesn’t get there, I’d like to suggest a tribute to Tommy Tutone: Chad EightSixSevenFiveThreeOhNine.
The situation does make for an effective short term publicity stunt for Johnson’s reality shows, but I choose to hope for a full fledged meltdown. “I don’t give a tile about my career” he was reportedly ranting at the time of the argument. Hell, if you want out of a sham marriage, why wait around six months like a Kardashian? And Miami coach Joe Philbin obliged the career part by firing him yesterday.
The head butt puts him somewhere between Charlie Sheen and OJ Simpson on the meltdown meter, and one can only hope it gets weirder, for the sake of reality TV in general.
Also near meltdown, Grote2DMax is up tomorrow.