Posted by: Snake Oil Baron | May 30, 2009

His Foot, My Ass

I am not a Britney Spears fan. I don’t even care enough about her to have been following the minutia of her mental problems beyond what I am forced to overhear – something about a shaved head and stuff.

But when I read about a photographer suing her for running over his foot I have to say that I want to see the tapes that allegedly exist on this. Unless she veered at him at high or quickly accelerating speed and he had to dodge out of the way and didn’t quite get his foot clear, I think that it is incumbent on photographers (paparazzi more likely) to get their fat feet out of the way of tires when vehicles are moving  or begin to move. It is part of the whole not-being-a-dumb-ass that comes with participation in modern society. More likely he left his foot there to be a drama queen and get some of the attention he idolizes. If he was veered at I apologize for doubting his story and condemn BS for her actions though I will still be pleased that the scum got his foot run over.

Let’s face it, most paparazzi are just stalkers with business cards. We, and especially the legal system, accept their activity because celebrities are such loathsome and vacuous people as a group and so are the members of the public who desperately want to see photos of them when they are trying to get away from photographers and who obsess about what they eat, who they sleep with, what kind of drugs they do, how horrible they are as parents and so on. The paparazzi have killed people and traumatized children and will do so again but the public pays them well for what they do and the celebrities get paid more for their next project because of the notoriety. People will buy the products of the paparazzi even while decrying their activities. It is the food web of emptiness, soulless crap. Like the carbon cycle only with crap.

I read somewhere that Mr. T (first name: Mister; middle name: period; last name T) was asked in an interview once what super power he would want to have and he thanked the interviewer for asking such an easy question. He said he wanted the power to heal sick children. We all want to be be person who says that or wants the power to end tyranny or some such thing. Personally, I would have asked for the power to shape-shift into women’s lingerie (WONDER TWIN POWERS – ACTIVATE! Form of a CString! [NSFW]). My point is that no one will pay millions of dollars for a photo of what Mr. T had for breakfast or buy a tabloid that promises an exclusive pic picture of his crotch as he gets out of a limo. Maybe that’s okay.

Maybe the large amount of vacuousness in the world serves the important purpose of showing us what we are supposed to rise above. Or maybe humanity is just screwed up. Meh.

Please note that I got through a post dealing partly with Mr. T without using that phrase which contains the word “pity” and the word “fool” (or “foo” by some transcriptions). You don’t always need to swing at the easy ones.



  1. Well then, allow me:

    “I pity the foo’!”

    And my personal favorite:

    “I ain’t gittin’ on no plane, Hannibal!”

    All those episodes, and the venerable fellow never cottoned on to the fact that as soon as an aircraft was introduced to the plot, he was to shortly end up unconscious, either through pharmaceuticals or the more traditional 2×4 to the noggin.

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