Speidi – At Last, the Final Chapter

For a whole twenty-one seconds this week, talk in the bar was about the Speidi breakup. You know, Heidi whatshername and Spencer whatever. The couple that is, and if there’s a God, soon to be “was,” famous primarily for being famous. Why they’re famous, I’m not really sure. It’s from some TV show MTV – the beacon on riveting intellectual entertainment.

Google tells me it’s The Hills. It’s in its fifth or sixth season, which means they’re approximately one and a half million idiots out there who get more stupid by each passing episode. Unbelievable.

Now, I don’t know much about Heidi Montag and Spencer Pratt, but I do know just a little to really not care for them at all. First exposure was a commercial when they were on “I’m a Celebrity … Get Me Out of Here.” Please. You’re only on that show if you’re such a minor celebrity as to not be eligible for minor celebrity status of contestants on “Dancing with the Stars.” In the clip, they were throwing a tantrum, talking about how big of stars they were, etc. Huh? Heard that Spencer wanted to be a Navy SEAL. That was until he found out that the SEALs don’t take pussies into their outfit.

Anytime, Spencer – you and me. I’ll fight you in back yard. Just give me time to finish my martini and it’s on.

Second exposure to Speidi was the news this winter of Heidi undergoing a whole host of elective plastic surgery procedures. Like 10 or something. I didn’t know there were ten different parts of your body you could get plastic surgery on. Knowing her, she got one of SoCal’s hottest new procedures, the labiaplasty. Yeah. You read that right. Plastic surgery for a woman’s hoochie. People, I can’t make this kind of shit up – look right here for yourself. If one’s not desperate to appear on a “episode” of MILF Hunter, why would one opt for this?

Anyways, we all saw divorce coming when news broke that Heidi was replacing Spence as her manager, replacing him a psychic, of all qualified people. Exactly what kind of management does someone like her need? Here’s betting that before long, the only work Heidi will be able to get is the receptionist at her psychic/manager’s office.

As for Spencer, he’ll fade to some trailer park, working weekend shifts at the car wash and turning tricks at night along Hollywood Blvd.

And, with that, we can turn our attention to more important matters, like inventing the discreet urinal to place in front of a barstool – there’s just way too much up and down over the course of a night, right?

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