In lieu of a column on what Peyton Manning’s pain in the neck means for the Indianapolis Colts’ playoff chances, I give you scattered thoughts…
Don’t know about you, but I’m pretty pumped for this year’s U.S. Open, which features the triumphant return of Compton, Calif.’s own Serena Williams.
Hard-court aficionados will recall Williams’ last trip to Flushing, N.Y., ended in electrifying fashion when, irate over a called foot-fault, she offered to perform a complimentary tonsillectomy on the lineswoman using nothing but a fuzzy yellow ball.
The 2009 episode resulted in Williams’ disqualification from a semifinal match against eventual champion Kim Clijsters. It also put an $82,500 dent in her wallet, courtesy of tennis officials who effectively redefined the term “drop in a bucket.”
Her punishment further required that Williams steer clear of another “major offense” during tournament play over the next two years, lest the fine climb to $175,000 and she be barred from the following U.S. Open. (Basically anything short of a Class 3 felony and she’s in the clear.)
When asked if she learned anything from the incident, Williams responded: “I don’t know. I don’t think about it.”
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you compartmentalize.
So I’m on my way down to the lobby of my Wilshire Boulevard office last week when the elevator suddenly stops at the 3rd floor. As the door opens, in walks our trusty building security guard (Carlos) followed by a furiously texting 20-year-old Barbie doll, who I mentally estimated at 6 feet tall and no more than 100 lbs. Before the door closes, I peer out long enough to observe:
Me: “Man, it’s a zoo out there.”
Carlos: “Yeah, it’s a casting call dude.”
Me: “Really, what for?”
Carlos: “Some hair commercial.”
Barbie (clearly agitated): “Yeah, and apparently the only prerequisite is that you have to have hair! (followed by more texting)
Naturally, I had to assume one of two scenarios: Either Barbie was distressed because her locks didn’t make the cut (ha!), or the Advil, coffee and cigarettes that had provided her with nourishment all week were beginning to wear off. Not good times either way.
It may have flown under the radar here in the States, but a senator from Puerto Rico resigned late last month after racy pictures of him — sorry, allegedly of him — turned up on an iPhone application for alternative lifestyles.
Sen. Roberto Arango told a local TV station he didn’t remember taking those pictures, but added that at one point he had snapped off a few in order to document his recent weight-loss.
Apparently there’s no better way to illustrate a trimmer waistline than via the rear view of a nude man on his hands and knees.
Ending days of speculation, ABC this week unveiled the
cast for next season’s “Dancing With the Stars.” Joining Chaz Bono, David Arquette and the ironically named Nancy Grace is Robert Kardashian — yes, the 10th best-known member of the family that refuses to go away.
Hey, at least we get to watch Chaz stumble through a few numbers before voting