My cohort in offline bitchy celeb ragging, Audiebird, has always had an amusingly soft spot for Suri Cruise. While she revels in tearing apart the bodies and souls of the pretty people who make up our entertainment (you should see how she goes on about star cankles), she patently refuses to speak about Suri. She just loves her. And who can blame her? The kid, while quite possibly a bit down syndrome-y (I mean, just look at that face), is supes totes adores, but beyond that, you can’t help but feel sorry for her.

Shiloh doesn’t necessarily come from a stable environment either, but you have to think it’s a fantastical life that kid is going to lead. But what becomes of Suri, day to day? Her mom is in a mind prison, her father is bipolar in the least, clinically depressive in the middle, full on crazy at the most, and most importantly, a freakishly actor-y actor at the top. As well, the swirls of Scientology envelop her whole being. It’s nigh on inevitable that she will need extensive amount of therapy. Meredith Grey-levels of therapy. Most celebabies will need a shrink at some point, but c’mon! Suri has to take the couch prize here (no pun intended).

And so it was that a few days after David Cook triumphed in American Idol, Audiebird and I were sitting around, bored out of our minds (cause what were we gonna do, go see Indy 4? How about no, OK?), flipping through random US Weekly’s, as we do, when we saw an item about Tom and Katie hosting a huge party to celebrate the purchase of their new Beverly Hills mansion (read: actual, physical locally operated prison for Katie). And suddenly hit me. Like a smack in the face. Like a Jessica Alba pregnant bikini pic I couldn’t look away from. We need to save Suri Cruise. Audiebird and I had already mused about flying to New York to see Katie’s Broadway show and then snatching the cute tyke from backstage and whisking her away to a better life. But that was silly talk. Back when our shows were still on. But with repeats on across the board, now we were serious (read: bored). It had to be done.

Why?

Cause the crazy celebrity parents always win. Follow the tabloids long enough, the Star Tracks never change. Unless, when that perfect celebrity offspring comes along, you take her and sell your story to TMZ. Then, us civilians get to win. (Did I rush that speech? Felt like I rushed it?)

So we set up to make this happen. We hired eight guys to get the job done: a Boeski, a Jim Brown, a Miss Daisy, two Jethros, a Leon Spinks, and the biggest Ella Fitzgerald ever. I thought we were covered, but Audiebird felt we needed one more. So we got one more. Spoiler alert: it was Matt Damon (he had his reasons).

We had our plan and were going to put it into effect until we realized something… none of us wanted to go to jail. Also none of us really wanted to be around Tom Cruise. So we ditched the plan, got drunk and listened to David Cook sing “Always Be My Baby” on loop for a couple hours. Great night. We were a bit bummed that Suri would have to continue to endure her stranglehold of a life, but we vowed to keep our eyes open, and if ever the time was right, say, at a random Starbucks run-in or next year’s NYC Marathon, we would rescue Suri AND Katie, and make this Star-crazy world a bit better of a place.

But I wanted to share with you guys our plan. It was a good one, and I see no reason to keep it under wraps. So forthwith, please enjoy our roundtable discussion on how we were going to steal/save Suri Cruise.

INT. THE JAY’S PLACE – NIGHT

Nine guys of various levels of fame, plus Audiebird and The Jay, sit around the living room of The Jay’s palatial Valley estate. A plasma screen behind shows a 3D blueprint of the target site, and rotates to show the plan as it’s announced.

THE JAY: Gentlemen: the 3000 block of Beverly Boulevard. Otherwise known as the new Beverly Hills Mansion of famed batshit crazy actor Tom Cruise, and his zombie war bride, Katie Holmes. Together, they’re one of the three most photographed power couples in Hollywood… Suri Cruise. The most adorable celebaby ever conceived in a lab using the egg of a one-time hottie teen drama actress and the sperm cocktail of a long-dead science fiction writer, the diminutive star of The Firm, and quite possibly Chris Klein. When not locked in Katie’s mind prison, which is rare, or in Tom’s desperate arms for a not at all posed, candid photo op, which is even more rare, she is located below the mansion, beneath two hundred feet of solid earth, in her crib. She safeguards every potential report of Tom’s compromised heterosexuality and the legitimacy of his sham marriage. …And we’re going to steal/save her.

MATT DAMON: Smash-and-grab job, huh?

AUDIEBIRD: It’s a little more complicated than that.

MATT DAMON: Well yeah! (Matt Damon!)

THE JAY: Courtesy of Perez Hilton, d-bag online gossip columnist dujour, are security tapes from TomKat’s new mansion. Okay. Bad news first. This place houses a security system which rivals most American Idol Season Finale tapings. First: we have to get within the front gates, which anyone knows takes more than a smile and a Star Map. Next: through the auditing doors, each of which requires a different six-digit code changed every twelve hours. Past those lies the elevator, and this is where it gets tricky: the elevator won’t move without authorized tone scale mood indications –

AUDIEBIRD: — which we can’t fake –

THE JAY: — and theta level confirmations from both the Celebrity Center within Scientology Headquarters and the crib vault below – -

AUDIEBIRD: — which we won’t get.

THE JAY: Furthermore, the elevator shaft is rigged with SP motion detectors –

AUDIEBIRD: — meaning if we manually override the lift, or don’t believe in Xenu, the shaft’s exit will lock down automatically and we’ll be trapped.

THE JAY: Once we’ve gotten down the shaft, though, then it’s a walk in the park: just three Scientologists with personality tests, and the most elaborate vault door conceived by man or L. Ron. Any questions?

Silence. For a moment, each man keeps his two dozen questions or more to himself. At last, one speaks up… The Random Chinese Guy (we tried to get the pan-asian dude who played Rufio, but he was booked). Of course, no one understands The Random Chinese Guy. Except Audiebird (natch).

AUDIEBIRD: No. Tunneling is out. They have scales monitoring the ground for one hundred yards in every direction. If a paparazzi tried to breath their air, or steal their garbage, they’d know about it. Anyone else?

SCOTT CAAN: You said something about good news…

THE JAY: The Hollywood Tabloid Commission stipulates: a celebrity must make enough public appearances to cover their Q rating and magazine cover stories. That means: during the week, by entertainment industry law, pictures of Suri and the family will net you anywhere from sixty to seventy thousand dollars in cash and coin. On a weekend, out with just Katie, between eighty and ninety thousand. On her own, without Tom or Katie, taken from a private party, like the one two weeks from tonight, the night we’re going to steal/save Suri, at least a hundred and fifty thousand and a full segment on Access Hollywood. Without breaking a sweat. Now there are eleven of us. Each with an equal share. You do the math.

OLD CARL REINER: I have a question. Say we get into the Mansion, and through the auditing checkpoint, and down the tone scale elevator we can’t move, and past the scientologists with personality tests, and into the crib vault we can’t open…

AUDIEBIRD: Without being seen by the cameras.

THE JAY: Oh, right. Sorry. I forgot to mention that.

REALLY OLD CARL REINER: Say we do all that. We’re just supposed to walk outta there with Suri Cruise herself, without getting stopped?

THE JAY: Yeah.

Would have been a great plan… one day, Suri. One day. Be strong…

Bangarang!

OHH, OHH! Tommy! My bubeleh! How are you, dear? Huh? How are ya? You look thin! Why don’t you eat? Enh? Enh? How come you never eat? What, you trying to impress a girl? She’ll like you as you are or pttt pttt she’s not worth it. OH! You look so cute in your big boy suit, all farpitz. And you’re getting so tall. When did you get so tall? Huh? Soon I’ll be lookin up at you, enh? What a day!

Are you excited for your Bar Mitzvah? Enh? You been working with the Rabbi? Learning your Torah? Oh, you’re such a good little boy, Tommy. I love you. You know? Grammy loves you! She could stand to hear from you more often, like it would kill you to pick up a phone, do a mitzvah, but I love you.

So how’s life there? Vi gaits? School good? Friends good? Got yourself a girlfriend? Heartbreaka, you are! Oof! I always tells your mutha, that Tommy is gonna be a heartbreaka! Enh? You got a little girlfriend? Enh? Tell your grandmutha. She better be good to you, hear me? Let me tell you, it was different in my day. Back when I was living in the creek, must have been sixty years ago now, it was a different time. No cell phones, no internet. Just me, your Grandfather Pacey, Mi Amocha, may he rest in peace, and the creek. I was working as a server, you know what a server is? I was a waitress. Ha! Like a girl of my looks shoulda been doing that, I won’t ever know! Don’t get me started, enh!

I chased after your Grandfather! And let me tell you, he was quite the looka! Ooh! Full head of hair, attitude for days, a rebel like you don’t even know! Feh! He used to sleep with teachers, oy gevald! But he was a good man. I straightened him out. And he was a good grandfather, right? Ohh Tommy, such a great grandson! Are we gonna nosh? Let’s go nosh. Your grandmutha needs to feed you, you don’t get enough food.

I saw this interview you did on the computuh; my nurse showed it to me. You were on the TV with that big African girl and you were making such a scene, I don’t get it. What is this fercockta business with the couch? Why do you have to make such a fuss? You were always such a mensch. Don’t be such a pisher, girls aren’t gonna like you, you act meshuga like that. Let your Bubba tell you what’s what. You grow up and get a good job, be a docta or a lawya, and you make a family. Be smart. This acting business, feh, all it ever is is he schtupped her , she wears what, k’vestch k’vestch, and none of them ever eat. You want that for yourself, Tommy? Everything in the world such a shanda? Listen to your Grammy, she’s old, she knows what she’s talking about.

Alright, alright, I’m tired, oy vai, time to get me home. Tommy, you are a good boy taking your poor old Grammy out to lunch. You’re a good kid, you know that? You’re a good kid. How you doin’ with money? Enh? You need some gelt, Grammy’ll give you some gelt. No arguin’, just put it in your pocket, save it, buy yourself something nice. Alright? OK? Give me a kiss goodbye. Mazel tov, bubeleh. Go do something good now. Something fun for your Grammy, sitting up here in this home all by herself. Nothing and nobody to talk to.

Don’t forget to call your Grandmutha once in a while! It wouldn’t kill ya!

Oy vey!

Pre-Race Warm-Up: Oh, is there a race going on? Heck, the one day I get the courage to run out on Tom. How’s that for ironic. I’m like Alanis Morissette, except she’s God and I’m not allowed to believe in God. Which is lame cause Tom said- NO! Focus, Holmes! You have a race to run. And if it turns out that you can sneak past Tom at the finish line, you have a new life to live! Get it together!

Mile 1: Wow, it feel so nice being outside on my own. I was starting to forget what it was like not having Scientologists trailing my every move. Now if I can just find a Doctor willing to take the GPS chip out of my neck…

Mile 2: Running is easy! I always did think David Beckham was a pussy. Don’t know why Tom insists on watching all his practices. And post-game showers.

Mile 4: Ooh, is that a Prada store? Eh, I wasn’t gonna win this race, anyway. It was just a chance to get an approved release from the compound. Shopping Break!

Mile 6: “I don’t wanna wait… for our lives to be over…”

Mile 8: I have Diane Keaton in my next movie, too. So suck on THAT, non-enslaved Mandy Moore!

Mile 9: Starting to get numb. Really wish Tom woulda let me take some Advil before the race. But he knows everything, and I’m not fully detoxed of my Christian ways yet. Stupid Top Gun crush!

Mile 10: I wonder when I’ll get to see my family again? Tom says soon, but what does that mean?

Mile 11: Did I really name my kid Suri? Wasn’t I from Ohio at some point? Man, I am not in control.

Mile 12: Starting to regret not wearing a bra.

Mile 13: Is it weird that sometimes when Tom’s away on location I watch my nude scene from The Gift and masturbate with his Jerry Maguire Golden Globe? Shake it off, Holmes! No explanations necessary. You’re doing what you have to do to survive!

Mile 14: Maggie Gyllenhaal. Yikes!

Mile 15: “I want to know right now, what will it be… whoa whoa whoa whoa!”

Mile 16: Yep, total bra regret.

Mile 17: One of these days I’m gonna drop the rope-a-dope and smile from the left side of my face. I will BLOW PEOPLE’S MINDS!

Mile 18: Why am I still running? I’m rich! Can’t I pay some poor Latin girl to do this for me?

Mile 19: “Fuck, fuck, FUCK THA POLICE! N-woooord!”

Mile 21: OMG, this is the worst decision I have ever made. Worse than First Daughter. Worse than dropping out of the Batman sequel. Worse than being contracted to Tom for the next decade. Well, maybe not so much that last one…

Mile 23: I miss Pacey. I don’t care that he was fictional. He bought me a wall!

Mile 24: “I don’t wanna wait, for our lives-” DAMN! That is such an annoying song!

Mile 25: I hope he’s not waiting for me. I hope he’s not waiting for me!

Mile 26: Dammit, there he is! Any chance he doesn’t notice me? Can I just run by him and plead ignorance? No, shit, he’s got the kid. The guy is cunning, I’ll give him that. Alright Katie, you can do this. Just suck it up like all the other times. Smile the desperation smile, kiss him like you’re doing the edited sex scene from Thank You For Smoking (mmm, Aaron Eckhart. I miss real men…) and take Suri away from him the first chance you get.

Finish Line: Yay, I did it! I’m so proud of myself! Alright, here he comes. Well, looks like I missed my chance to be free. Maybe next year, Katie. Maybe next year…

Bangarang!

(Follow me on Twitter @jasonamatthews)

“A person, typically male, who says or does things that cause you to give them a ‘what-are-you-even-doing- here’ look. The ‘what-are-you-even-doing- here’ look is classified by a glare in the tool’s direction and is usually accompanied by muttering of how big of a tool they are. The tool is usually someone who is unwelcome but no one has the balls to tell them to get lost. The tool is always making comments that are out-of-place, out-of-line or just plain stupid. The tool is always trying too hard to fit in, and because of this, never will.?

Here is my definition of the term “tool”:

“Carson Daly”

Now, which of those definitions applies to Ben Affleck? I say neither.

People who watch Orlando Bloom act and find him to be bland have sufficient reason for feeling so. Fact is he’s bland; there is a void of charisma when he’s on screen. Low-minded people who think Keanu Reeves is a sucky actor could probably make a case that there have been a few bad performances in The One’s illustrious oeuvre (Dracula comes to mind). Britney detractors could form a solid argument on her lack of singing ability simply by having eyes, ears, taste and an aversion to Cheetos dust (the last one is harder than you’d think).

But where do people get off thinking Ben Affleck is a tool?

Is he the best actor in Hollywood? No, far from it (though he has gotten good reviews before, hello Changing Lanes). Has he been involved in a completely annoying celebrity couple? Absolutely, but Bennifer was no more or less intolerable than Brangelina, Vaughniston, TomKat or Nick and Jessica. Has he made way too much money starring in a slew of crappy movies? I think Forces of Nature, Surviving Christmas, Paycheck, Man About Town, Bounce, Reindeer Games and Pearl Harbor speak for themselves. But has he really done ANYTHING worthy of lumping him in with Carson Daly, K-Fed, Criss Angel and any white guy out on the town in a striped shirt? I aim to prove he hasn’t.

It’s a hard climb to the top of “Ben Affleck is NOT a tool” Mountain, so let me get the biggest obstacle out of the way right now: Gigli.

Picture this: You’re a well-known talent in Hollywood. A producer comes to you and says “Hey guy, I have a movie for you. It’s a love story between you and Jennifer Lopez where you get to make out with her on set and watch her do yoga in booty shorts. But you’re also a gangster, so you’re gritty and tough and get to rough people up. We got Al Pacino coming in to yell at you in a scene and be creepy. And we’re flying in Christopher Walken to do one of his patented loopy speeches while you writhe on the floor in pain cause he just shot you. It’ll be just like that awesome scene in True Romance. Marty Brest is directing. He’s done Beverly Hills Cop and Midnight Run, and he got Pacino his only Oscar. Also, we’re gonna pay you TEN MILLION DOLLARS!” What do you say to that? You’re saying hell yes!

So Gigli is not his fault. He’s looking a lot less tool-y now, isn’t he?

You can’t say he’s untalented. Despite what urban myths would say, he wrote an Academy Award-winning screenplay. That happened. He’s won several significant awards for acting. And his directorial debut, “Gone Baby Gone” is getting filthy good reviews. I saw it and thought it was light years better than Mystic River (mostly because at no point in the movie did anyone melodrama into the camera “IS DAT MY DADER IN DERE????”). So the only real reason you could call him a tool is because of his relationship with J. Lo. Take that way (and I’ll explain why you can in just a minute) and the only mark is a few bad movies. If making a few bad movies makes you a tool than you can slap that label on George Clooney (The Peacemaker), Matt Damon (The Legend of Bagger Vance), Johnny Depp (Secret Window), Jude Law (his entire 2004 slate), and pretty much any male actor who’s toplined a few movies in his career.

Fact is Ben Affleck gets a bad wrap because he’s a fun, funny guy who dated one wrong girl, made a few bad movies and was a bit too omnipresent a few years back. I say he’s also made a slew of great movies, always makes me laugh on SNL, learned from his mistakes and settled down away from the tabloids with a nice girl and is well-liked by all his peers. For that and the following forty reasons, I think it’s preposterous to call my boy Affleck a tool. Let me prove it to you…

35 Reasons Why Ben Affleck Is NOT A Tool

1. The man has a very good chick stock portfolio. He sold high on Gwyneth, broke even on J.Lo and picked up a very dependable Jen Garner IRA. And he was never tempted by a risky celebritard-IPO (Britney, Lindsay, Paris, Brittany Murphy).

2. Created Project Greenlight as a way to develop new filmmakers. Not his fault that the contest winners sucked balls and their movies polluted theaters and DVD shelves worse than Forces of Nature. Although Gulager was fun to watch in a rubbernecking traffic accident kind of way.

3. Nominated for a Golden Globe for his role as George Reeves in Hollywoodland. Won the Best Actor Award at the Venice Film Festival for the same performance. Not to mention getting rave reviews for his work in Changing Lanes, Shakespeare in Love, Chasing Amy and Smoking Aces. So you all can shove it with that “crappy actor” nonsense. Have you ever thought it might not be him, but instead be the movie, or the director? I swear, Ben could be Keanu’s spiritual cousin.

4. Unlike, some other fake sports bigamists (ahem, unfunny Dane Cook), Affleck is actually a TRUE fan of his favorite sports team (the Red Sox, if you didn’t know).

5. Gave us the chance to see Ed Harris and Morgan Freeman chew scenery together in Gone Baby Gone. Gotta love that.

6. He’s not nearly as skeezy or douchebaggery as Colin Farrell, a guy who’s made just as many awful movies as the Fleck (Hart’s War, Ask The Dust, Miami Vice, Alexander, American Outlaws).

7. More on the point of acting, a person’s relative talent level is fairly fact based. Either he’s good or he isn’t. But that has no relation to his relative tool level, which is entirely subjective. So he not being great in a couple of movies has no bearing on his perception of being a tool. I don’t judge Carson Daly’s toolishness on his Last Call monologue. I judge his toolery on his poser black fingernails, his manorexia, his goofball name, his propensity for dating idiots (hey Tara Reid!), and the fact that, you know, he’s a tool.

8. Can speak extemporaneously on a wide-range of topics, which makes him light years ahead of most of his Hollywood generation, and a good portion of our government officials. And by “a good portion”, I mean our President.

9. Gave his kid a relatively normal name (“Violet”). It could have been worse. His Chasing Amy co-star Jason Lee named his kid “Pilot Inspektor”. Hell, his ex named her kid “Apple”.

10. Brought his Mom to the Oscars when he won for Good Will Hunting. That’s class, kids, c’mon!

11. Made a tightly-constructed, soulful, gripping detective movie starring a group of fantastic actors and never once called attention to his personal baggage in the process. In other words, is not Bret Ratner.

12. Harrison Ford signed off on Affleck replacing him in the Jack Ryan series. If he’s good enough for Han Solo and Indiana Jones, he’s good enough for me.

13. Why is he a tool because his head and face are kinda simian-esque? McConaughey has T-rex arms. Damon has a fratboy pig nose. Brad Pitt is notoriously smelly. Orlando Bloom is a chick. Keanu is grody to the max. But Affleck is a tool because he has a square jaw? I don’t get it.

14. Even if he DOES wear a hairpiece, who cares? So have Sean Connery, Burt Reynolds, and Bruce Willis, and those guys rule.

15. Like Brad, Matt, George, Matthew or Jude was gonna pull off the animal crackers scene in Armageddon, any better? He had to drag crackers across Liv Tyler’s pudge and make it look sexy. That’s a Herculean task. Laurence Olivier would have been flummoxed. Cary Grant would have called in a stunt double.

16. Campaigns excessively for the Democratic Party, but never once comes off like a Baldwinian hypocrite-twit. Spends time at phone banks doing voter registration, makes speeches at rally’s and works to diminish lobby-influence on politicians. Said this about his own political aspirations: “My fantasy is that someday I’m independently wealthy enough that I’m not beholden to anybody, so I can run for Congress on the grounds that everyday people — be they singers or poets or bankers or lawyers or teachers — should be in government.” That’s honest activism I can get behind.

17. And is an actual TRUE activist, not to mention a good sport.

18. Morgan Freeman likes him (and he’s God!). That’s enough for me.

19. The man may not have the most range, but he can pull off a speech. A couple more You Tube-worthy monologues and he might just be our next Alec Baldwin.

20. Deflected most of the Bennifer hatred by immediately dropping off the tabloid circuit the minute he cut ties with La Lopez. Makes you wonder how much of the Bennifer nonsense was J.Lo’s fault, and not his. After all, do you EVER read Ben and Jen Garner pieces in Us Weekly? (see, I told you I had a good reason for eliminating this foible)

21. And now shows contrition for the hoopla surrounding that relationship and the negative impact it had on his acting career. Contrition! Would a true tool show contrition? I don’t see K. Fed apologizing for Britney. Or Carson Daly apologizing for himself.

22. This is from a report of Ben Affleck at the debut of his wife, Jennifer Garner, on Broadway with Cyrano De Bergerac: “Ben Affleck fought back tears of pride as he jumped to his feet to give his actress wife Jennifer Garner a standing ovation at the close of her official first night on Broadway recently.” The man loves his celebrity wife. How often is that true. Did K-Fed ever cry tears of pride when “Toxic” came on the radio? Does Chris Martin get teary when he watches Gwyneth be bitchy onscreen? Did Ryan Phillipe ever go ballistic in support when Reese would win an award? OK, that last one happened, but only because he was drunk. And is an idiot.

23. Is a great sport about people making fun of him. Example 1: The SNL Mango “Ben Whoffleck” sketch. Example 2: South Park’s skewering of Bennifer: “Taco flavored kisses for my Ben!”

24. Is an open and generous supporter of his homosexual cousin Jason, and has done work for the organization “Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays”. That puts him ahead of Kevin Spacey in my book.

25. Is considered one of the most loyal actors in Hollywood; why else would he agree to do Jersey Girl?

26. Speaking of, can laugh at his own limitations: Apple Sauce, BITCH!

27. His directorial debut was a short film titled “I Killed My Lesbian Wife, Hung Her On A Meat Hook, and Now I Have A Three-Picture Deal At Disney”. C’mon, that’s just awesome!

28. Was named People Magazine’s 2002 Sexiest Man Alive. George Clooney’s won twice. So have Brad Pitt and Richard Gere. McConaughey and Damon both have one win. So why is Affleck the tool in the bunch? They’ve all done their share of shitty movies and dated their share of questionable women. At least Affleck has the good grace to seem bemused by the whole thing.

29. His work as Big Bad Donnie Bartalotti in the Boston Teens sketches on SNL. (“I would never zap your lady. For serious, bro!”)

30. If you’ve never heard him do an audio commentary before, remedy that ASAP. He makes sitting through Pearl Harbor a breeze. I particularly like his commentaries for Chasing Amy (“I put on a clinic and my skills are free.”) and Mallrats.

31. Sure he’s made some shitty movies, but hell, it’s not like he’s Nicolas Cage!

32. Just to insure that his stint in rehab for alcoholism would stick, Affleck had legendary abuser Charlie “Ma” Sheen drive him to rehab. The MaSheen behind the wheel would get me to quit drinking, let me tell you. Moreover, has not publicly relapsed like some other celebrities we know and love (ahem, Lindsay). (btw, can you imagine the stories MaSheen must have told him to help him quit drinking. I quote John Turturro from Mr. Deeds: “The hideousness of [MaSheen] will haunt my dreams forever”.)

33. Has realized his time as a bankable leading man have passed him, and wisely decided to do smaller roles in cool ensemble films. Affleck is much more tolerable and likeable in small doses. And with a handlebar mustache (see Aces, Smoking).

34. Started supporting the non-profit organization A-T Childrens Project after he befriended Joe Kindregan, a wheelchair-bound child diagnosed with ataxia-telangiectasia, a rare genetic disease that causes neurological deterioration. Goes above and beyond to improve Joe’s quality of life, including paying for medical bills, taking him to premieres, and sending his family on vacations. Affleck even lobbied Congress for increased research funding. We call Tom Cruise a hero for changing some schmoe’s tire. Affleck is changing this kid’s life. Let’s show some respect.

35. You gotta admit that, regardless of everything else, he was the bomb in Phantoms, yo!

Bangarang!

(Follow me on Twitter @jasonamatthews)

Bangarang!

It’s one thing when a celebrity releases a poor excuse for unruly behavior directly after the incident. People are asking questions and publicists want to give them white-washed answers. Often times those answers are stupid and nonsensical, written to cling to some inane image of purity. Those excuses are lame, they know and we know it, but we let it go because it is what it is. Hell, the real excuse almost 100% of the time is that they were drunk or high. And I still maintain that just saying that would be enough; it would be more relatable and forgiven then any fake excuse ever could.

But it’s quite another thing when a celebrity inexplicably comments on an incident that happened weeks or months ago, and gives an even stupider excuse for their actions. That’s just TomKat levels of publicity mismanagement. Yesterday, Britney Spears wrote a message on her website responding to the incident earlier this year where she attacked a paparazzo’s car with an umbrella. She never said anything at the time, and frankly we didn’t need her to. She had just shaved her head, was in-between bouts of rehab and it was just generally assumed she had jumped the couch. But apparently Britney felt it was necessary to “repair” her batshit craziness with an even more batshit crazy excuse.

Here’s what she said:

“I apologize to the pap for a stunt that was done 4 months ago regarding an umbrella. I was preparing my character for a roll in a movie where the husband never plays his part so they switch places accidentally. I take all my rolls very seriously and got a little carried away. Unfortunately I didn’t get the part.”

A good rule of thumb for any excuse is to never say anything that prompts additional questions. Another rule of thumb: don’t be an idiot. Both rules are violated pretty severely in Britney’s statement. She was preparing for a “roll” (sic, obviously)? One, no one pays her to act. Not now, not ever. Two, what role could she possibly have been preparing for? The Angelina Jolie role in Girl Interrupted 2: Celebritard Interrupted? Was she angling for a spot in the V For Vendetta sequel “U For Umbrella”? She hadn’t been attractive or creatively relevant for nearly four years (if she ever really was), and now she’s breaking into movies? I think she may have confused the phrase “preparing for a role in a movie” with “whatever the Klonozopan says is what I do”. Not to mention, when has it ever been a man’s role to repeatedly hit a stranger’s car with an umbrella? Is that a country western thing I’m not aware of?

Even if we go out on an extremely tenuous limb and believe she was preparing for a role, the plot of the movie is so ludicrously stupid, that even Bret Ratner was like “Yeah, me and this random club skank I’m harassing call shenanigans on that shit.” Didn’t they stop making “switching roles” movies in the 80’s when we all realized the consequence of cocaine use was Judge Reinhold? Methinks Britney couldn’t figure out how to get Freaky Friday out of the DVD player and it slowly warped her brain, Clockwork Orange-style.

“I was going through post-partum depression and could not get a handle on my mood. I’m working to correct this, and hope that my plight will serve as a boon for women who are privately suffering from this oppression to get the help they need to repair their lives. Thank you for your understanding, and I apologize again for harm or discomfort I may have caused”.

That’s my suggestion for what she should have said. It’s concise, to the point, gets you the next cover of People Magazine, Brooke Shields becomes your best friend, and now you can start getting some real sympathy. It works well for everyone and squashes that week of craziness for good. But I’m not a trained PR flack, so what do I know?

If this was her excuse, what were the ones thrown out? Because you know her people sat around a conference room throwing out ideas for how to “handle” this, and after the fourteenth Red Bull waterfall they pulled “preparing for a movie role” out of their asses and went to sushi to celebrate their genius. If I was a fly on the wall of that urgent meeting, here is what I bet some of the discarded excuses were:

- “Kevin triple-dog dared me to do it, and as you are all aware, the rules of “Dare” clearly state that the daree MUST perform the darer’s dare upon invocation of the triple-dog. So as you can clearly see, I had no choice.”

- “I was helping my sister Jamie-Lynn with a science experiment for her health class. We were studying the effects of craziness in an unstable Celebritard. As it stands, the results were inconclusive. But she did get a C+, best grade the Spears family has ever received.”

- “That’s not what you do with an umbrella? Huh. Well, what’s it for, then?”

- “I am actually a closet soccer hooligan. Liverpool had a match coming up against Sheffeld United and I needed to step up my hooliganism. You gotta stay sharp during Premiere League, cause those United fans are major tossers!”

- “It’s possible I’m not very bright. My doctors are looking into it. I’m hoping the results are positive.”

- “Lindsay, Paris and I were having a competition to see who could act the craziest without getting in trouble. I was losing and needed a quick score. The attack put me back in first, but Lindsay ended up winning when she crashed her car and passed out. Paris made a valiant attempt for a last-minute win with that whole jail thing, but you just can’t beat “useable amounts of cocaine” as a headline. Lindsay is like the Michael Jordan of competitive Celebritard stupidity.”

- “It wasn’t me, it was the one-armed man!”

- “I decided to switch roles models. Instead of Madonna, I am now following the merits and advice of renowned sane person, Courtney Love. Please allow for some inefficiency during this transitional period.”

- “I love lamp!”
- My loneliness is killing me, and I, I must confess I still believe (still believe). When I’m not with you I lose my mind, give me a sign, Hit me baby one more time!

Britney, next time, just make like Scott Glenn in Backdraft and let it go.

Bangarang!

Bangarang!

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It’s a time of reflection for those in the unauthorized celebrity picture business. With Paris now firmly behind bars for the duration of June, Lindsay drying up in a posh suite somewhere in Malibu, Nicole trying to clean up her rep in time for her day in court, Brangelina giving it out for free to shill their respective new movies, and nary a rookie Celebritard climbing the ranks, the Paparazzi have a lot of free time on their hands. I wonder what they’ll do with all that free time? I mean really, who wants to spend the summer stalking those idiot Laguna Beach kids? L.C. is hot and all, but at some point you gotta remember why you got into this business. It was to be in the trenches, literally (the ones you dug in the dirt on the Malibu Cliffside while waiting for Tom and Nicole to go to breakfast). It was not to waste your time in front of The Standard at 2:30 am on a Tuesday on the off chance Kristin Cavallari walks out in a slinky dress and boots all over Hollywood Blvd. Though I wouldn’t mind seeing that.

So while the Paparazzi anxiously await the return of their skanky meal tickets from their respective detention centers and publicist enforced club bans, I put together a list of 21 things that the papz are likely to do with all there new found free time.

1. Stalking Jennifer Lopez, just for old times’ sake.

2. Going to the beach. Not to enjoy the ocean, but to practice burying themselves in the sand for the upcoming celebritard bikini season.

3. Hitting the gym. The treadmill, specifically. The new breed of star is mighty quick. Gotta practice getting out of the way of speeding, bloodthirsty Mercedes’.

4. Snubbing George Clooney in public, giving the star a false sense of security, waiting two minutes, and then casually following him around for the rest of the day at a safe, seemingly harmless distance.

5. Having epiphanies about their empty soulless existence, but then ultimately deciding not to get out of Jennifer Aniston’s garbage can.

6. Banding together to heighten the tabloid intensity on Hayden Panetierre in the vein hopes she very quickly becomes the next La Lohan. TV stars make the best celebritards (Hi, Shannen Doherty!). Unfortunately, as we all know, the only person who can truly create a satisfactory is celebritard is the Celebrinator herself, Paris Hilton. And though she is truly omnipotent, not even Ms. Jailbird Hilton can skankify a perfectly respectable young girl from behind bars. She can still give the girl herpes, just not celebritardation.

7. Actually eating in the trendy restaurants they camp out at.

8. Catching up on their Netflix queue. Mel Gibson’s movie Paparazzi has been ironically sitting on their coffee table for months (it’s hard to get up the urge to watch Tom Sizemore act at night when you have to take perp walk pictures of him all day).

9. Sucking up to Harvey Leven.

10. Not returning Jessica Simpson’s publicist’s phone calls.

11. Going to rehab to kick their insatiable, life-crushing Brangelina habit. While at rehab, trying to learn Vietnamese to they can use more effective ways of getting Pax Thien Jolie-Pitt to look at their camera. Something tells me the paparazzi rehab would be about as effective as the gayhab Isiah Washington snored through during FaggotGate.

12. Continuing to bribe Lindsay Lohan’s duplicitous, picture stealing “friends”.

13. Competing in a last man standing style game of “not it!” to determine who will have the unenviable task of having to cover Rosie O’Donnell.

14. Wondering out loud why Tara Reid hasn’t stepped up to get some of the free tabloid limelight. After all, for the next month there will be a considerable dearth of “drunk celebritard falling out of a limo” pics, for which she is immensely suited for.

15. Scrapbooking.

16. Reading all the recent “Ben Affleck Is Coming Back” articles, realizing how much unwarranted hell they caused him back in the day and vowing to somehow make it up to him. Not by ever watching one of his movies, but maybe by not taking those extra forty pictures of him looking scrubby at Starbucks.

17. Recommitting themselves to capturing an illicit shot of Hillary Duff doing anything at all even remotely interesting. This might prove to be a herculean task.

18. Googling Kim Kardashian and still not understanding why her picture is worth anything.

19. Getting drunk and mischievous and sending in an order to Pink Dot for three cases of Grey Goose to be delivered to Promises Malibu under the name “Han, Lo”.

20. Weighing their options of getting out of bed to snap bikini pics of Britney Spears. On the one hand, it’s an easy shot that will sell. On the other hand, they’ll inevitably spend the night throwing up their lunch, followed be restless fever dreams of cellulite-ridden buttocks devouring tiny blue thongs, scored to Britney’s dance club hit “Toxic”. What price dignity, eh?

21. Doing what any normal person with a telephoto lens would do… taking close up, high-res pictures of their junk.

Bangarang!

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