Thursday, October 27, 2005
Okay, so help me out here, you’ve been dating Miss Nobody from Planet Nowhere for six months and you’re clearly in a manic phase having fallen in love after finishing your dinner salad on your first date, morphing into face-sucking paparazzi hemorrhoid, and proceeding to act like a coked up Hari Krishna about the whole situation, like, EVERY DAY since, pissing off Brooke Shields in your spare time, and then just going ahead on and proposing matrimony ON TOP OF THE EFFIEL TOWER (I guess the space shuttle was booked). And after all that, even though you’re Tom Cruise and stuff, you STILL CAN’T talk your girlfriend into the media circus wedding you envision (I’m thinking Minelli/Guest here).
So, you know, WHAT'S A FREAK TO DO?
Oh, I don’t know, could it be, let’s see now….
HAVE A BABY?
Seriously, somebody needs break out the tranquilizer gun. Or call Pat Kingsley.
(Let's hope Katie doesn't struggle with the post-partum blues. Otherwise Tom would just be forced to chain her up in the wine cellar until she gets better, I guess.)