Thighmaster: Level Tree Bark
Category: Humor
Wearing Poinsettias Like A Boss
Bizarre Love Triangle
John Travolta And Violating Personal Space
You are not allowed to do this. You are not John Travolta, and chances are high that you will never caress neither Idina Menzel nor Scarlett Johansson, as he did last Sunday at the Oscars.
Despite the allegiance to Scientology, gay rumors, and alleged hairpiece, he is still John Tra-freaking-volta. These weird antics do not negate his Travolta-ness. Did you ever welcome back Mr. Kotter? Heck to the no. Were you ever in a plastic bubble? I think not. You are not leather-jacketed commitment-phobic Danny Zuko driving Greased Lightning. You were never white-suited disco-dancing emotionally immature Tony Manero. You never could turn that beat around.
So don’t even try getting in on some double Kanye action.
That is best left to Vinnie Barbarino himself.
I say let the Travolta hairline recede and swell like the rising tides. Let him proposition his masseuse. Let him pilot planes into Neverland. Let the crazy roll in and roll out.
Brother, you were J.T. before Timberlake stole your title. Steal it back like he brought sexy back! Talk your crazy L. Ron Hubbard talk with that eerie contented smile that Tom Cruise shares. Like nothing gets you down. Press your puffy senior digits into pretty girls’ faces half your age. I don’t care. You be you. But us regular folks cannot follow suit.
Now, readers, do not despair. This you can do.
Arms around your Allman brother buddies, celebrating and thumbs-upping. Go for it.
But charging through a stranger’s comfort zone to decorate him with blinking lights like Helen Keller on a Douglas Fir, no, sir. This is strictly Travolta territory. Do not try this at home.
Getting Pinned In All The Wrong Places
Egyptians Hopeful As They Enter Red Sea
Jerry O’Connell: Up-To-Date On Immunizations
Oh, come on. You remember Jerry. The kid with the buzz cut in Stand By Me.
In that pic, he actually looks pretty fit by today’s standards. It was probably just those horizontal stripes that gave him swell factor. Anyhoo, he’s all growed up now, just turned 41 last Tuesday, with full, dark eyebrows that make him look like an angry Thundercat.
He and former model Rebecca Romijn have twin girls with smile-inducing names: Dolly Rebecca Rose and Charlie Tamara Tulip, named after Ms. Parton and Jerry’s nearly-identical brother, respectively. How cute are they?
Although Jerry and Rebecca were married in 2007, she told Conan O’Brien that she was “too lazy to go to the DMV” to change her current legal name of “Romijn-Stamos” on her driver’s license, from her prior marriage to Full House‘s Uncle Jesse. Here they are with part of Judy Garland’s daughter’s boob.
Honestly, Rebecca–it’s been nearly 8 years. That’s one of my pet peeves, people not changing their drivers’ license information asap. I hit the DMV the day I got back from my honeymoon. Gotta sever those strings, honey. Even to a hunky half-Grecian.
L’il Music Man
Fear Of Measles Epidemic Linked To Teen Incontinence
How I Feel At The Walmart H&R Block
It’s My Gift In A Box
Good morning! Today is my birthday, and it started off with a gift from my husband, sans chimp-hands.
I got my first birthday greeting at the crack of dawn.
The mailman had scads of birthday cards for me (crossing my fingers there’s no glitter; I hate hate hate glitter!)
My girls are coming over to fix me up, Sandra Dee style.
A fabulous party is planned for the noon hour.
Toasts will be made in my honor.
In fact, the entire state will raise their hats to me.
And when the sun goes down, the hub and I may throw caution to the wind and share a bottle of unpasteurized milk.
We know how to party.
*All pictures are from the 1948 Oklahoma A&M College yearbook.
New Auntie Anne’s Pretzel Circles
How adorable is this 1941 university Singles Tennis team, three of them in their tennis whites?
And what can I say about the Deck Tennis Singles?
Lady B’s hair has aerodynamic fins like a 1957 Chrysler Plymouth. Perhaps that helped with her swing?
The Table Tennis gals seem ready for a challenge. Pleated skirts and collared shirts allowed for ultimate comfort and flexibility.
Check out the smiles on these two. Rackets are strung and ready to backhand.
But what is going on with the men’s team uniform? I don’t get it. How did swooshy Great Gatsby-white-party culottes help their game? And think of the stains you could never get out! Boys are so messy. Those pleats really do add pounds.
I Don't Get It 