Poor Charlie Sheen is now last week’s news. Things happen quickly around here and you’ve got to keep up. After a whirlwind romance with the spotlight in which he bared his tiger soul and winning mind, we have all moved on to the next deluded lunatic who panders to the lowest entertainment instinct of the general American public.
And it all happened entirely too fast for me to cash in on it.
I am able to get some Google juice by mentioning Mr. Sheen’s name in the first paragraph of this blog post, of course, so it didn’t completely pass me by, but my Peruvian sweatshop grandmothers haven’t yet been able to finish the ironing, much less get the first shipment of “I turn tin cans into gold” tee shirts packed into boxes and shipped to every outlet mall in the country. The Ex-TV Star doll, with the pull string that activates a voice spewing randomly generated cocaine-induced philosophical rants, isn’t out of development, yet. The Ninja Tiger website server crashed right before the official launch.
Maybe Britney or Mel will have a relapse. One can only hope.