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Phutatorius

Serving up inflammatory chestnuts since . . . well, today.

Saturday, January 31, 2004

CBS. How may I direct your call?

"Yes, uh — can you put me in touch with whoever it is who is planning the Super Bowl halftime show?"

That would be Mr. ******. He's quite busy at the moment —

"Yeah. Fine. Whatever. I don't need the honcho. Just anyone who can tell me who's gonna be the super-secret surprise halftime show guest."

Sir, I don't think anyone with our organization is at liberty to divulge that information to people outside the loop —

"Because if it's gonna be Justin, or Christina, or Mandy, or Clay, or Trista, or Darva, or Ray Romano . . . it's probably gonna be Ray Romano — somebody from your network, isn't it?"

Sir, I am not privy to this information —

"If it's gonna be one of them, then I'd like to know. Because I'll get on a plane right now, load my pockets with cash, circle the stadium until I can scalp a ticket, and when Justin or Christina or Mandy or Clay or Trista or Darva or Ray Romano takes the stage I'm gonna scream like a schoolgirl. Like a schoolgirl, because I'll be able to tell people I was in the same room — a very big room, admittedly — with Justin or Christina or Mandy —"

Sir, you'll just have to wait until halftime tomorrow.

"Thing is, I'm not going to lift a finger if it's Britney or that awful Jessica Simpson, because they're just not talented. It would be a total waste of my time and money to go down there thinking it was going to be Justin or Christina or Mandy or whoever, and then I get Britney. It wouldn't be fair to spring that on me. Do you understand?"

Sir —

"You don't have to tell me who it is exactly. All I'm asking is for some confirmation that it's going to be Justin or Christina or Mandy or Ray Romano or one of those other people I forgot. Can't you do that? I don't see why you can't do that."

Sir, why don't I forward you to your PR Department? They might be best positioned to address your concerns.

"Oh boy, oh boy, I hope it's Ray Romano. He could do a duet with Puff Daddy. Or maybe dance the macarena — you know, the Forbidden Dance — with Janet Jackson. I think that would be brilliant. I just love that Ray Romano. Everyman comedy. You just look at him, and you smile. He opens his mouth, and you laugh. If it's Ray — ha ha ha, ho ho ho, I'm already laughing — I'm gonna scream like a schoolgirl. I tell you . . ."

Please hold.

posted by Phutatorius at  #7:27 PM.

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