Coming Soon: The Block Buster Movie Version of My Life

Washington Post columnist Jen Chaney has asked that, when this blog becomes a movie, that her role be played by Carey Mulligan. The problem is my character will be played by my doopelganger Russell Crowe, and I have word there is friction between them ever since Crowe threw his telephone at Mulligan. Mulligan reportedly is totally baffled by that because, who uses a telephone instead of a cell phone? The movie, though, will be digitized, so Jen Chaney can look like Carey Mulligan. In a studio survey of ten tourists who agree to waste their vacation watching film instead of taking the guided bus tour of Hollywood, eight stated they preferred how Jen Chaney looks over Carey Mulligan, and the other two asked for more pizza. By the way, this is the same group that also greenlighted that “The Cavemen” be bought as a TV series. Based on this survey result, we may use Jen to play herself, use Carey Mulligan’s voice only, alternating with the voice of Phyllis Diller (that will make the film lovably quirky) and my voice will probably be done by Gilbert Godfrey in the love scenes. The addition of cavemen into the film is still reviewed. We do need to find a role for Jen’s former writing partner Liz Kelly. Since Liz is now a journalist in LA, this will be convenient, as Liz can now interview herself while she works on the movie. I believe Liz will do fine, just so long as she doesn’t get too close to Russell’s telephone. We will need someone to play the role of my love interest. I am trying to get Angelina Jolie to play herself, but that mean old Brad won’t let her. Worried about anything, Brad, huh? Back when Angie lived in my building, or Ina as I used to call her because her name had too many syllables to remember, I remember her being into blood letting. I was not exactly sure what it meant until I saw the vial around her neck. Sorry, but I don’t even go to blood drives, much less use my blood for jewelry purposes. Of course, if fans want to buy pieces of my cut hair, or toenails, call my agent. Jennifer Aniston is under consideration. I was friends with her cousin in school and I do regret teasing her about her hair. I kept saying, if you’d only cut a nice haircut, you’d look so much better, but I don’t think she ever did anything about it. Maybe she could portray Angelina in the film. I can’t think of any reason why she would object. John Seigenthaler could play himself, as long as the makeup can make him look like a fellow third grader. Abe Vigoda could have played my younger brother had he not died. (Wait, he’s still alive?). And I need to find a role for Stephanie Rothenberg, currently in “How to Succeed on Broadway Without Trying”(now playing at the Al Hirschfield Theatre), because her father can blackmail me about my affair with Maggie Thatcher (don’t want Angelina finding out and getting jealous and killing a former head of state now, do we?). Wait, did I just write that in print? Oh, well, I guess I don’t need to find a role for Stephanie after all. (Still, go see her on Broadway and tell them you’re there to see her and not some Harry Potter dude.) I would also like to find roles for great but underappreciated actors such as Vicki Lewis, Burr Middleton, Olivia d’Abo, Robin Williams, Steve Moriarty, and Erin Moran. They could be my entourage, I guess, although I never used one. Usually the mob of people surrounding me wherever I went were bill collectors. Yet, in the photographs, you couldn’t tell the difference. We also need a role for the greatest humorist of today, Gene Weingarten. I am not certain what the role will be, but there will be a toilet involved.

Still Famous For Being Famous, Part 3

Third grade was a troubling time for me. My Presidential advising tenure was challenged by the Kennedy assassination. I know that many Internet conspiracies have concluded that my fellow third grader John Seigenthaler and I were involved in the Kennedy assassination. Now that all of the Kennedy children have died, I believe it is time that I come forth with the truth. No, John and I were not involved. Yet we were involved in the cover up. As I mentioned earlier, it was me, with John, and what has puzzled me to this day, Richard Nixon standing on the grassy knoll. I was cleaning my gun and Nixon accidentally discharged. Or so he claims. Fortunately, the bullet did not strike anyone. Ironically, Governor Connally was cleaning his pistol when it accidentally discharged. No, it did not hit anyone either. The assassin was an influential man who fired from the book depository. When we discovered his identify, it was deemed for national security that this secret be kept until now. It was Elvis Presley who assassinated President Kennedy. He was in a jealous rage over Marilyn Monroe. Of course, Elvis, as President of the Trilateral Commission, was the most influential person in the world and we needed to keep this from the public. John and I took the Zapurder film of the Kennedy assassination and altered it. (John wanted to add a musical background score, but I vetoed that.) We blocked out Connally cleaning his gun. We then found a patsy to blame for the shooting, and when we found a low wage employee with a Russian wife worked in the same book depository, it was like, bingo, that’s our guy. Maybe conspiracy theorists will blame the Russians and not the Trilateral Commission. Then Special Agent Ruby took out Oswald, and the whole thing was put to rest. Americans were able to go back to living their lives in peace, not counting the constant fear that we needed them to have so they would vote to keep the military and industrial complex exorbitantly funded by their elected representatives. My personal life, though, was a wreck. Virginia’s lawyers were suing for their share of the mansion, jet, and milk boxes. A neighbor Peggy was of great comfort although our playing house was, really, just playing house. We had a great relationship where we would take turns doing what each other wanted. She often wanted to play house, and then major renovations, followed by extreme landscaping. After a while, it got to be a bit too much when she decided to have lions guarding the house. True, lions may keep the paparazzi away, yet it made me concerned that every time I went to the mailbox that I might be eaten by a lion. I favor alternative security measures.