If you had pancake titties, I’d love the shit out of those titties, said Dean as he was leaning against the ugly wooden cabinets in his kitchen, his face a mess of scruff.
I have never experienced but a single moment in my entire life where I haven’t looked at scruff on a man and thought that the rough facial hair made him seem even more virile and sexy, but I suppose there’s always a first time for everything.
Fuck you, Tori Spelling’s husband!
(I’d just write his full name after spouting out my you-ruined-facial-hair-so-fuck-you, but would anybody know this guy if he had not tied himself legally to Tori Spelling? Exactly.)
Anyhow, it was in the conversation that the increasingly pale Tori was having with her rapidly-aging husband about her expired breast implants that his “pancake tittie” line was said. See, those suckers have to come out – and quickly too – because they are hard as boulders and should have been removed over a decade ago. And as long as we’re playing with time, I can vividly see myself sitting on my friend Jena’s bed when we were in college – her room always smelled like peach body lotion – and Tori Spelling’s tiny frame and huge, unrealistic-looking jugs appeared on the television screen and Jena looked up and shook her head and mumbled that Spelling’s cleavage looked like the Grand Canyon. And while I’m not so adept with identifying things like the terrain of major geographical landmarks, I saw immediately the crevice and the valley smack dab in the middle of her chest and I nodded in agreement.
And now those implants might come out, even though Tori Spelling – who checks into a hospital with more regularity than any human being under the age of eighty – hates operations and has a really tough time taking moments for herself and making things about herself, a line she said to her personal camera crew on a show titled True Tori.
It is so hard when you are so utterly selfless.
Maybe there’s an operation for that ailment as well. And if her cameras can get clearance to film the bloody surgery, I’m sure she’ll get them in there. I mean, if her gall bladder could also become famous and have its own reality show, she will not blow that opportunity.
But even more important than her inner organs becoming stars is the poetic comfort her husband gave her as they discussed the remove-the-implant surgery. Hey, general public who only see Dean-Tori’s-husband as an alcoholic prick: he will love her titties no matter what shape they become. But I don’t think it’s completely a coincidence that this puffy man seems especially supportive because her boobs might end up resembling a breakfast food, but that’s not really the issue. What is the issue is his unwavering support, stated in a manner that rings of romance – if you’re a fucking moron.
It’s in these moments, when Dean says things like this, where I’m reminded, like, this is the man I fell in love with, Tori said in a private interview. She had a smile so big across her face that the caked on makeup seemed like it was cracking. (Think I’m being mean? Go back and watch it in close-up, but be sure to have a large color picture of the clown from Stephen King’s It ready to go for when you need to be comforted by a less haunting image.) But Tori just felt so grateful that her husband still had it in him to be so amazing, even though the entire series has revolved around the thesis that every single action this man has ever made and every single thought this man has ever had have been wrong.
And me? I’m tattooing Dean’s line across my lower back in the hopes of creating the lowest class of tramp stamp that has ever been recorded in the annals of history. Or I’m going to find a product on Amazon that can scrub my brain of ever hearing that line uttered out loud in any kitchen anywhere.
And I’m also going on record that, while pancakes were never in my top hundred of favorite foods, they are now officially out of my life forever.
But all is not lost. Dean booked a role on CSI, a show I never watched but will now pretend to boycott, and I got to see yet another therapy session with a couple who clearly loathe one another and I was able to have a supremely intellectual conversation with myself that went something like this during what I believe production calls The Therapy Scene:
Tori wore false eyelashes to therapy? What kind of lunatic does that? And more importantly, what kind of adhesive glue does she use in the application process that prevents those tarantula-sized lashes from falling onto her cheeks when she starts to cry? How does that fucker stay on?
I would have taken more time to examine the image, but the action got really compelling then when Dean mentioned that some of the fathers at his kids’ school asked him to play hockey with them one night a week. And it struck me that an organized activity without alcohol where this man could embrace some natural endorphins could only be a wonderful thing. But Tori blew, angry that he’d be away from the house for a few hours.
All people need time to do things that are personally fulfilling. And men need to step away from responsibilities for an hour or two so they can regroup and remember why they even liked you in the first place.
Isn’t this is the kind of information that is taught in a prerequisite course for human behavior?
Did they not offer that course at California University?
Was it not taught by the wheelchair-bound professor who eventually became Kelly Taylor’s cult leader for three whole episodes? Perhaps it should have been.
More than the show, which I continue to tune into and now fully understand the term hate-watch, I have been enjoying the Relationship Press Tour that Tori and Dean have been on recently. They’ve appeared on shitty programs like the third hour of the Today show, the time allotted for the non-news to be spewed out by a woman who I think was once Kathie Lee Gifford, but her face has changed so alarmingly that I’m not quite sure that’s really her anymore. But both Tori and Dean had segments recently on that show. Tori got to once again allude to the fact that her mother was an asshole and she made sure to mention that Dean was a changed person who stepped up to every responsibility on the planet – he might be the man who eventually brings an end to fracking! – and she is sticking with the choice to televise her entire life because it has made her stronger.
And Dean? Well, he has done press saying that they are doing beautifully as a couple, which maybe means that he doesn’t storm out of his house with regularity anymore or have foot-shaking emotional breakdowns in front of a guru, and he also says that he is done televising his life – which he states clearly on camera, so I think that perhaps one of us is missing the point.
But before this season can sputter to a close, there is first a birthday party to throw for one of their cute kids. And just like you or I would do, they are having the entire thing filmed for their reality show and inviting Dean’s ex-wife, a woman not even slightly related to the birthday girl, to attend, so it’s obviously a thing purely done to create a potential emotional landmine.
At their daughter’s birthday party.
In front of cameras.
While both mother and child will be wearing fairy wings.
I can only pray they won’t be serving pancakes.