Wing Chun: Hello?

Sarah: …

Wing Chun: Oh, hi. …Yeah, I know.

Sarah: …

Wing Chun: I know!

Sarah: …

Wing Chun: Okay, with the understanding that I support you no matter how you want to handle this…

Sarah: …

Wing Chun: …are you…going to say…anything? Or are you going to fume silently?

Sarah: …

Wing Chun: Or maybe this is a choice-paralysis issue.

Sarah: …

Wing Chun: “…Why don’t you just tell me the name of the movie you’d like to see?”

Sarah: [boop beep]

Wing Chun: “You have selected…Katie Holmes Is A Stone Idiot. Rrrrrr-rated R!”

Sarah: [boop]

Wing Chun: “Now playing at…He’s Too Short For You Cinemas Park Slope!”

Sarah: Heh. And just to take a brief sidebar — what the hell, Michael Richards?

Wing Chun: Jeez, finally. You were starting to worry me.

Sarah: I had so many things to say, they all got stuck in my throat at once.

Wing Chun: Well, I figured, but it could also have been a fugue state.

Sarah: You think I’d go catatonic over Tom Cruise? Really?

Wing Chun: Oh, right, because you’d be the first woman taller than five-eight that he mesmerized. With his tooth.

Sarah: Ah, excuse me, but they don’t know the history of psychiatry. I do.

Wing Chun: Oh, is that what we’re calling “bearding” now?

Sarah and Wing Chun: …Ohhh!

Sarah: For the record, to anyone in the Scientology black-bag corps who might have tapped this phone, I completely believe and assiduously repeat all claims of Mr. Cruise’s heterosexuali–

Wing Chun: Oh, please.

Sarah: What? I do! Who was the only one who really thought Suri looked like him in those VF pictures? That was me!

Wing Chun: Leaving aside for a moment the fact that this craven sucking up is not attractive, at all, let me point out that that does not mean Tom and Katie had conventional intercourse.

Sarah: All right, Wing, leaving aside, as you stipulate, the fact that said up-sucking could prevent me from taking a Sea Org tranq dart to the neck when I have umpteen people coming in for Thanksgiving from out of town —

Wing Chun: “This doesn’t look like enough coffee; I think I’ll double the spoonfuls.”

Sarah: — the resemblance obviously does not rule out insemination by — G

Wing Chun: “And then I’ll smoke some crack.”

Sarah: — traditional means.

Wing Chun: “And then I’ll use the word ‘insemination,’ without irony, in connection with the argument that Tom Cruise boinked a lady.”

Sarah: Oh, yes, Wing, because if you’re going to use any word to make a point regarding the most compulsively controlling man in Hollywood, it is obviously the verb “to boink.”

Wing Chun: Which is precisely my point!

Sarah: But that’s — you know, actually, you lost me. Sincerely.

Wing Chun: I meant that it’s just as ridiculous to…because he’s not…wait, that doesn’t make sense either.

Sarah: None of this makes sense.

Wing Chun: Maybe that was my point.

Sarah: Maybe. Although, you know what I heard?

Wing Chun: Oh, dear.

Sarah: Well, a little birdie told me that he heard that Tom doesn’t let himself have orgasms because it’s —

Wing Chun: Oh, I’d heard that too. Because it’s a loss of control, right?

Sarah: Yep, apparently.

Wing Chun: Like the pygmies who think photographs steal your soul.

Sarah: Hee, “pygmies.”

Wing Chun: We are so sued.

Sarah: Well, whatever. And anyway, like he’s got the time to sue us when he’s kissing his new wife for like an hour and a half without coming up for air.

Wing Chun: God, seriously.

Sarah: …You know he literally did that, right?

Wing Chun: Wait, what?

Sarah: From CNN.com, and I quote: “[A] ‘never-ending kiss’ between the betrothed after they exchanged vows Saturday…lasted so long it caused guests to shout ‘stop, stop!’ said Giorgio Armani, who attended the wedding and designed the outfits of the bride, the groom and their baby, Suri.”

Wing Chun: I’ll bet it did. …Hee, I love this other headline: “Townsfolk on wedding: ‘Huge disappointment.'”

Sarah: More like “Townsfolk on Armani: ‘WTF?'” I mean, not to step on the Fug Girls’ shit here, but that dress, yeesh.

Wing Chun: Eh, it’s not that bad.

Sarah: You’d think she’d be shooting a little higher than “not that bad” on her wedding day.

Wing Chun: Well, it’s not like she picked it out.

Sarah: True.

Wing Chun: And they’re getting divorced in nine years anyway. Heh.

Sarah: Also true. …God, that smile makes me sad.

Wing Chun: She looks like she’s fighting tears, a little bit.

Sarah: I would be more encouraged if I thought that were true, honestly. To me it just looks like the lights are on but nobody’s home.

Wing Chun: I can’t believe some of the guests they career-blackmailed into attending. Brooke Shields?

Sarah: Oh, no. Really?

Wing Chun: It’s one thing to bury the hatchet with him, but to go to his third wedding like you’re friends?

Sarah: And perpetrating the fiction that he has friends…I think that’s what I find so bothersome about this entire situation, really.

Wing Chun: That he has no friends?

Sarah: That everyone knows he’s the nuttiest nut in East Nuthatch, but there’s apparently a widespread agreement to pretend otherwise.

Wing Chun: Yeah. Although, now that I’m thinking about it, I don’t know that I would do differently. I mean, would you turn down an invitation to that shit?

Sarah: No, I wouldn’t.

Wing Chun: Neither would I, because we could dine out on that story for the rest of our natural lives.

Sarah: Could we ever.

Wing Chun: So maybe that’s why Brooke Shields went.

Sarah: You know what, let’s just choose to believe that, because if I have to go through life thinking that she was manipulated by all the over-the-top fairy-tale-wedding straining at stool going on here, it will be very sad.

Wing Chun: Lord, for real. I mean, an Italian castle? Calm down, dude.

Sarah: You’d think it would occur to Tom that, if he really wants to give the impression of not giving a shit what people think, he’d just go down to City Hall in a bathrobe.

Wing Chun: Not even that. Make the justice of the peace come to you.

Sarah: Heh. He comes wandering downstairs in sweat-shorts and a Taz t-shirt all, “Oh, that’s today? …Well, let’s git ‘er done, then. Suri, honey, come here and hold Daddy’s Schlitz.”

Wing Chun: Ha!

Sarah: But no, he has the girliest wedding ever.

Wing Chun: Oh, that probably lets him sell it as “Kate’s” idea.

Sarah: Like she even knew where she was.

Wing Chun: Right? She probably kept trying to eat the bouquet and her sister had to slap it away from her mouth every two minutes.

Sarah: “Kate want cake Kate want cake Kate want cake!” “Okay, honey, let’s just get you into this garter bel–” “KATE WANT CAAAAAAAAKE!”

Wing Chun: “Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded –” “Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba baaaaaaaaaa!” “…Yeah, we’ll accept that.”

Sarah: Meanwhile, back at the fort…

Wing Chun: Oh, they’re all watching it on closed-circuit TV.

Sarah: Totally. On couches made out of ripped-out car seats.

Wing Chun: Totally!

Sarah: And they’re all crying.

Wing Chun: They are?

Sarah: You don’t think they are?

Wing Chun: You know, maybe they are.

Sarah: Except Donald Trump.

Wing Chun: “Can we flip to CNBC just for, like, two seconds?”

Sarah: And Vince Neil isn’t crying either, because he’s all bitter that he bet D’Onofrio a dollar they wouldn’t go through with it and now he has to pay up.

Wing Chun: And Jim Morrison isn’t crying because he’s face-down in…something.

Sarah: A book of Native American legends.

Wing Chun: Obviously.

Sarah: But you know who’s crying the hardest of anyone? Ryan Philippe.

Wing Chun: Whaaaat? No way. Ryan Philippe is psyched right now.

Sarah: Ryan Philippe is bummed right now!

Wing Chun: Would you be bummed right now if you were Ryan Philippe?

Sarah: Yes! Because I was horsing around on the gravy train like I’d been told not to do a thousand times, and I fell off, and now the train is leaving without me!

Wing Chun: Girl. Please. First of all, he made a fine living before he hooked up with Reese, it’s not like he’s Chad Lowe or something.

Sarah: …God, poor Chad Lowe.

Wing Chun: Oh, I know. His girls’ bike is, like, cobbled together from parts of other girls’ bikes.

Sarah: One wheel is from a little red wagon.

Wing Chun: And the other one is something that isn’t even round. Like a shoebox.

Sarah: No pedals.

Wing Chun: Meanwhile, Ryan’s is the latest retro-styled model with shocks and struts and shit, and it’s got a collapsible basket —

Sarah: Much like Ryan himself!

Wing Chun: Yeah, you’re welcome.

Sarah: Thanks!

Wing Chun: But of course the punchline is that Reese bought it for him.

Sarah: And picked it out, too.

Wing Chun: And made him wash it every night. Like, with Woolite.

Sarah: And polish it with a chamois.

Wing Chun: From a hyper-neat stack on a labeled shelf in the garage.

Sarah: “How many times do I have to tell you, when we’re running low, put it on the list?”

Wing Chun: You know what, though, I kind of feel bad giving her shit for that. I mean, not that she’d be the most fun in the world to be married to, probably, but —

Sarah: No, I know what you mean. …Well, the anal-retentive part I don’t have a problem getting on her case for, but all the jokes about how Ryan cuckolded her because he couldn’t deal with her success…

Wing Chun: Yeah, it just seems sexist to do that.

Sarah: Exactly. Not that it wasn’t the case.

Wing Chun: And I kind of have a feeling it was.

Sarah: Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think it was her success itself.

Wing Chun: Well, but you know how some guys are with that.

Sarah: Oh, sure. It’s fine in theory if you make more money or whatever, but then in practice they decide to feel castrated by it when it has nothing to do with them really.

Wing Chun: Right.

Sarah: But I would say that in this case, it’s more about the qualities that led to her success — that she’s really driven and really focused and maybe is not the warmest person in the world.

Wing Chun: …That’s the sexist part. Nobody would expect Ryan to be Mr. Warmth.

Sarah: Wellllll…in the context of a relationship? Yeah, it’s sexist to assume that he must have been all salty about her being more famous, that obviously that must be the case because men are the providers, or whatever. But to want a spouse to be nurturing, regardless of gender?

Wing Chun: No, I know what you’re saying — but come on, it’s not like he didn’t know what she was when he married her.

Sarah: True. …I don’t know, I would feel bad about bagging on her if I thought she cared, but I…sort of don’t.

Wing Chun: But you feel bad for Philippe.

Sarah: What? No. I just think he feels sorry for himself.

Wing Chun: See, I think he’s relieved that it’s over.

Sarah: Maybe I just like the image of him going all Corey Flood at the fort while the rest of the GBC is hunting around for earplugs.

Wing Chun: Hee. “I wrote 63 songs this year. They’re all about Reese.”

Sarah: “And I’m going to sing each and every one of them tonight.”

Wing Chun: “If I could just find the sheet music for #45…”

Sarah and Wing Chun: “… DAWSON!”

Wing Chun: See, no. He’s riding his bike around in the mud, wrecking it into the curb, leaving it in the street…he’s free!

Sarah: Yeah, maybe you’re right.

Wing Chun: If anyone’s singing 63 songs, it’s Federline.

Sarah: Federline isn’t in the GBC.

Wing Chun: Are you kidding me?

Sarah: First of all, Bobby Brown would beat the crap out of him using Mark Hamill as a shillelagh. Second of all —

Wing Chun: Why Hamill?

Sarah: I don’t know. I just picture Brown grabbing the first relatively small dude who’s sitting still, lashing his arms and legs to his body with colored shoelaces, and going to town.

Wing Chun: …Colored shoelaces.

Sarah: …What?

Wing Chun: I…nothing.

Sarah: He’s using Luke Skywalker to inflict blunt-force trauma, but please do quibble over the details.

Wing Chun: Sorry, jeez.

Sarah: Fine, so second of all…second of all…oh, yeah. So Federline would never get as far as the fort, even, because right when he got to the end of the driveway, a repo man named Donny would materialize from behind a hedge and yoink the bike.

Wing Chun: Not part of the pre-nup, eh?

Sarah: I wouldn’t think so, no.

Wing Chun: I would suggest, as an alternate scenario, that Vince Neil looks out the window of the fort and is like, “Oh. Hell. No,” and then he goes over and tells Russell Crowe that the skanky dude at the end of the driveway is trying to take pictures of Crowe’s wife and kids.

Sarah: I like where this is going a great deal.

Wing Chun: So Crowe rages down there, and K-Fed starts to be like, “What up, Russ?” but Russell Crowe picks him up by the scruff of the…cornrows, I guess, and literally drop-kicks him into the next county.

Sarah: No handshake and apology for K-Fed.

Wing Chun: No, I think not.

Sarah: With that said…shut up, Russell Crowe.

Wing Chun: Well, seriously. “Cultural differences,” my ass.

Sarah: I will pay the first interviewer who, one, mentions to Russell Crowe that Australia was a penal colony, and two, then says, “Hee hee, ‘penal colony'”? One hundred American dollars.

Wing Chun: I think you should pay Steve Kroft one hundred American dollars for not peeing himself during that 60 Minutes segment.

Sarah: No deal.

Wing Chun: Dude, he was trembling. Drop some hundies on Grandpa!

Sarah: I’m not convinced he didn’t wet himself, is my point. I probably would have wet myself.

Wing Chun: Maybe we should put Steve Kroft in the GBC to keep Wink Martindale company.

Sarah: Aw, that’s sad.

Wing Chun: No kidding. …Anyone else sleeping on the GBC divorce couch?

Sarah: Mr. Kate Hudson?

Wing Chun: Oh, yeah, that guy. What’s the scuttlebutt on that one?

Sarah: Hee, “scuttlebutt.” …Uh, let’s see here. …”Irreconcilable differences.”

Wing Chun: Translation: “He’s cheating on me.”

Sarah: I think Robinson filed, actually, not Hudson.

Wing Chun: Or his beard filed.

Sarah: His beard cheated on her also.

Wing Chun: Or he cheated on her with the beard, which is clearly a sentient being.

Sarah: ….

Wing Chun: What, it doesn’t count as a sentient being if it ate sentient beings?

Sarah: No, I…was going to make a really dorky reference and thought better of it.

Wing Chun: Well, you might as well just say it, now.

Sarah: Okay, did you ever watch the Star Trek cartoons?

Wing Chun: No.

Sarah: Okay, well, there were Star Trek cartoons, like half-hour animated versions of the episodes, and in this one episode, this invisible alien takes over the comms system and does some sort of mind-control thing, and it keeps repeating, “Obey me! Obey me!” in a whiny robotic voice and getting more and more stressed out when Kirk resists it.

Wing Chun: …Uh huh.

Sarah: So…I picture the beard doing that.

Wing Chun: Uh…huh.

Sarah: Like I said. Thought better of it.

Wing Chun: …Yes.

Sarah: Hey, you asked.

Wing Chun: I did ask, that’s true.

Sarah: And you’re the one who’s envisioning the beard as the wood chipper in Fargo.

Wing Chun: No, that’s all you also, but I’m behind you on that one. You nerd.

Sarah: Thanks, and shut up.

Wing Chun: You’re welcome, and speaking of shut up! Guess what seminal band is now the subject of an oral history?

Sarah: …Oh sweet hairy Jesus.

Wing Chun: Now, don’t you rush right out and buy it, because Christmas is coming!

Sarah: Santa’s getting a kick in the slats if that shit shows up in my stocking.

Wing Chun: Santa’s getting a kick in the slats anyway. From Russell Crowe.

Sarah: “Get your own chimney, mate.”

Wing Chun: Or from Stephen Dorff.

Sarah: Please, like Stephen Dorff can even reach Santa’s slats without stepladder. Also: Stephen Dorff?

Wing Chun: Stephen Dorff left a message on Steve-O’s answering machine, threatening to kill him for stealing his girlfriend.

Sarah: Steve-O from Jackass?

Wing Chun: No, Steve-O from the Royal Shakespeare Company.

Sarah: Stole Stephen Dorff’s girlfriend.

Wing Chun: Evidently.

Sarah: I don’t know where to begin.

Wing Chun: Chris Robinson beard joke?

Sarah: Steve-O has a girlfriend? What kind of girl “goes out with” Steve-O?

Wing Chun: Well, what kind of girl goes out with Stephen Dorff.

Sarah: The extremely short kind who doesn’t mind going dutch?

Wing Chun: Zing!

Sarah: Come on. If I had a choice, I’d go out with Steve-O.

Wing Chun: Just when I think you’ve hit every low possible…

Sarah: I’m not saying if I had a choice between Steve-O and, like, everyone else on earth. I’m saying, between the two Steves, I’d go with O.

Wing Chun: If death were not an option.

Sarah: Right. And I’m not the one with a crush on Johnny Knoxville.

Wing Chun: Hey, you admitted that one was valid.

Sarah: But it was re-invalidated after the Jessica Simpson thing.

Wing Chun: Excuse me! You would sleep with The Dooch!

Sarah: Okay, don’t change the subject, and also, you’re omitting a number of nuances —

Wing Chun: Nuances?

Sarah: I definitely recall qualifying the —

Wing Chun: Please stop talking immediately.

Sarah: But — fine.

Wing Chun: God.

Sarah: I’m a complicated person!

Wing Chun: Yeah, that’s one word for it.

Sarah: Let’s talk about how fun it would be if the Jackass guys were all in the GBC.

Wing Chun: Yes, let’s. …Yes, let’s! Why didn’t we think to do that before?

Sarah: I really, really don’t know, because if any group of people were ever in need of — nay, begging for — a series of out-of-left-field kicks in the goolies, it’s this one.

Wing Chun: Amen, sister. And think of the hundreds of hours of footage to be had from attempting to make Richard Dawson throw up.

Sarah: On K-Fed.

Wing Chun: Using K-Fed. As ipecac.

Sarah: Hee! “Okay, he’s eaten poo, he’s eaten a punchbowl of hot mayonnaise, he’s eaten two hammocks, a Ford Focus, and Trebek’s Pomeranian. How on earth are we going to get this dude to barf?”

Wing Chun: “Kevin! …Kevin, dude, put on that Lakers tank top. …No, no undershirt.”

Sarah: “[HOAAARRRRF!]”

Wing Chun: Whiiiiich brings us right back to TomKat.

Sarah: It’s all a circle of hate.

Wing Chun: Drawn by Michael Richards.

Sarah: Oh yeah, we forgot to finish our sidebar on that.

Wing Chun: I…don’t have that much else to say, actually.

Sarah: I…don’t either. What can you say?

Wing Chun: Well, he’s using the drunk defense, sounds like, so I guess we can decide whether to put him in the GBC.

Sarah: You know, I really never thought Kramer was that funny, and he’d constantly be getting tangled up in the bike and getting it stuck in, like, barbed wire, or school field trips, or whatever, not funny, and also, is he even famous anymore? And also also, we already have a Mel Gibson.

Wing Chun: On the other hand, the Jackass guys could kick him in the nuts. Many many times in a row.

Sarah: And can I just say, isn’t it a little late in his career for him to get all bent out of shape by a heckler in the first place? Didn’t he do standup for a living before?

Wing Chun: Seriously. And — this is how you react? Fine, you get rattled, but why would you go there? Twenty times?

Sarah: Not for a million dollars would I have wanted the MC’s job that night, goddamn.

Wing Chun: Oh Lord no. Having to go up onstage after that?

Sarah: “Nine-thirty show is DEFINITELY NOT the same as the seven-thirty show. Not the same AT. ALL.”

Wing Chun: So, no Kramer?

Sarah: Not unless we can also induct that kids’ karate class that beat him down that time.

Wing Chun: I can live with that.

Sarah: Done.

November 20, 2006

Tags:   GBC