bad hair day?

[breakingnews]

Bad everything days. We've all had them, usually more often than not. But that's part of life, no? I suppose if you want to live like a movie star and get decked out for the daily trip to Starbucks and Whole Foods, sure, but there's a price and some sort of social stigma attached with that kind of behavior. Pride and dignity interspersed accordingly.

If you are a rock star, however, suddenly your bad days become Average Joe's fantasy. I am embarassed that this kind of shit exists in our world.

After watching The O.C. reach unattainable levels of lameness, I am subjected to "Celebs without make-up," a program that provokes within me such a profound disgust with humans and how low some will stoop to make a buck. It's an hour of very candid photos and videos of celebrities at their less-than-stellar - known to you and I as *everyday* - moments. Who fucking cares? Apparently enough that Fox would consider airing the show. No hypocrisy here: Let's disgrace the very actors and actresses who likely made Fox a popular television network in the first place.

What is the fascination with trailing these celebs and trying to belittle them with such mockery? Is it a sense of inadequacy or total envy? What do you gain by documenting the fact that Sharon Stone or Jessica Simpson can, in fact, look like as much of a slob as you do? The difference is that while you and I can try to clean up and look somewhat decent, these celebs will don their ritzy dresses and expensive diamonds and become a thousand times more than you or I can ever hope to attain. Let's not forget vocal or acting abilities that may or may not accompany the glamour - there is a reason they've made it big. If you've starred in a movie, suddenly people believe that your off-screen life - though likely lived on the same streets, at the same bars and restaurants and in the same stores - is worlds apart from the mundane crap everyone else uses as an excuse for their existences.

That I have unintentionally been in the same bars with Ivanka Trump and the Bush twins immediately tells me not that I am cool - but that they are huge fucking losers for patronizing the very New York landfills which I make a concerted effort to avoid. (Yes, I am also a huge loser for being convinced to go to those places.) They are no better than I am. You might have cameras constantly in your face or secret service on hand to excuse you from a late-night bout with debauchery, but I am free of such scrutiny and am content with the private, albeit uninteresting, life I lead.

Don't get me wrong, some celebrities are just asking for trouble. Take the latest Paris Hilton/T-Mobile caper - no fault of her own, but the contents of her Sidekick simply bolster how much of a whackjob the girl is. One entry that immediately caught my attention was, "Feed the children - 235-933-93001." (Yes there is an extra digit there.) Other notable entries include any with the five different spellings of "Paris Goddess," "Famous, Rich not" and "Fux, Connor." I list that last one because at first I thought it was some [hilarious] asshole that somehow convinced her to put his [fake] name in her phone; later I discover that he's really a 24-year-old graduate of the theater department ... at JAMES MADISON UNIV. A nobody. Absolute nobody, and he has somehow earned a spot in her phone. Not that I would ever want to associate myself with the girl, but I digress ...

What would happen if we just stopped caring about celebrities? What if the Brad Pitts and Jennifer Anistons of the world went about their frolicking in plain L.A. daylight and a platoon of paparazzi photographers didn't appear from the sand in a brilliance of popping flashes? Is it possible for people to be famous for their abilities but not the sub-conscious objects of our fantasies and desires? What's the point of popularity, anyway?