Tuesday, May 8, 2007


Been on holiday for awhile so until now I’ve managed to dodge the ‘Hoff’s late night video binge and subsequent half-ass tirade on his teenage spawn from Hollywierd Hell but now that I’m all caught up and have finally, finally stopped laughing my ass off (yes.. asselhoff if you must) I had a lonely thought or three.
Young Ms. ‘Hoff…….Sweetheart……..seriously……while I most assuredly cannot know your intimate parental situation and do not share your what I’m sure is legitimate pain I must say this- I’m certain that you have many, many cringe inducing memories backed up in your emotional teenage toilet to be ashamed of (your Old Man’s acting and, God forbid, singing career chief among them) but this particular moment, now forever frozen in our video consciousness, is most definitely NOT one of them. This is your time to shine, Girl! You’ve hit the Angry Teenage Rebel Lottery! Not only did you completely bust the Old Man at his weakest most pathetic possible moment but you, somehow, miraculously had the foresight to film it and then, God can it get any better, said damning video evidence of your absolute control and domination of your legal guardian managed to leak its way to the internets where your Gosh darn painful shame can be blissfully shared with one and all. BRAVO! LMAO! U R 2 COOL 4 SCHOOL!

One small note of caution as you celebrate your ultimate victory over the entire adult world and pounce on your just desserts- DO NOT DO OPRAH! While this seemingly painless task would appear in your eyes to be the next logical and conveniently supportive step in your short climb to self actualization, TRUST ME, don’t do it. The Fat Lady will suck you drier than a Nevada desert as she engulfs you in her monstrous pudding of televised empathy then oozes her protoplasmic body against yours at least once and maybe many times before she finally pulls the cord and leaves you plummeting towards the ground and wondering where all the cameras went as she slurps up the last drops of your pain and totals up the numbers. MiniHoff, this will not help you in any runs, long or short. Don’t do drugs kid, not even the TV kind.

But let’s consider alternatives. In the future, Ms. ‘Hoff, allow me to clue you in on some conduct that may be more becoming to a gal of your evident smarts. By my alcoholically expert estimation the Knight Rider appeared to be approximately 15-25 minutes away from a comatose-like state of officially passed-out that should have afforded you the golden opportunity of rifling his pants and possessions for any loose cash or plastic thus allowing you to embark on a guilt-free, windfall shopping spree and don’t you deserve it. This is the reward of all kids with drunk-ass parents everywhere and let’s get it straight- it is your REWARD. Enjoy, indulge, go crazy, he did. Many is the time I treated my buddies and me to copious amounts of potato chips and soda pop after the Old Mans’ big night out. Treat yourself BabyGirl, don’t cheat yourself. Whenever the Old Guy gets bent out of shape, it’s your time to spread your plastic wings and fly little birdie. And seeing as how your parental unit is headlining in Vegas and, for some reason unknown to me, still has the bank to maintain an assistant to fetch him cheeseburgers no matter how polluted he gets- and wouldn’t we all love that little perk- I’m guessing that any temporarily absconded plastic from the ‘Hoff still retains the spending power of his Knight Rider heyday and you could go a long way on that particular ride so put down the camera and wise up. You've got the winning lottery ticket, good kid! All you have to do is cash it in.
Don’t waste these precious opportunities on hopeless, pointless, redundant nagging. Make hay while the sun shines and remember that not all of us have the all access pass to fortune that you have in your needy little grasp. I know that it’s hard but consider the future. How long do you imagine the Old Man can coast on his Babewatch residuals and dumb luck? 2 more years? 5? 10? Not too likely if you keep derailing the Hasselgravytrain with your goody-goody snitch vids and then where will you be?
Christ kid you’ll have to get a job!
Despite what you may have believed until now, money actually doesn’t grow on trees and finger wagging videos of a talent challenged 80’s TV “actor” too drunk to stuff his maw with a fatburger ain’t gonna bring home any bacon baby so don’t shit where you eat.
On a more personal note………and I want to express this as sensitively as I possibly can……..nobody likes a narc kid, especially not a snotty, repetitive, teenage, buzzkilling, pint-sized one. If you’re not careful you unfortunately have the absolute potential to turn into a browbeating superbitch and while that species may be popular in Hollywood (or maybe in your household) that road leads only to a slow miserable transformation into the kind of crazy old lonelylady that you and your hard body girlfriends currently mock whenever these dried up crones pop up on your juicy radar, so……… don’t go there girlfriend. Men are stupid, lazy boys who like to be as dumb as they can- and that’s frightfully dumb indeed- but LISTEN UP. Some of us are pretty handy to have around and some of us are damn useful when we’re not drunk as monkeys and almost all of us are easy to trick when we are, so buck up and take the good with the bad because you're holding all the cards.
It’s the only game in town and don’t let anybody tell you any different.

And by the way- “Get” alcohol? “Get”? What the hell is that?
Drink…Use….Abuse. Honey, you have legitimate options so please feel free.

To the ‘Hoff- Damn Bro’! I’m fairly certain I’ve been that drunk before, and many times, but I really can’t remember when. Too faced to snort a cheeseburger? The fuck are you drinking and can I possibly get some? That’s it! If I ever go to Vegas and your moniker is gracing the marquis I AM THERE!
First one is on me!

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