by Stuart Heritage
Jack Jordan, you’ve let us down. All that time you were stalking Uma Thurman in a number of imaginatively creepy ways, we thought you were being illegal.
And now your lawyer is saying that you weren’t being illegal in an effort to keep you out of jail? That is very disappointing, Jack Jordan. Very disappointing indeed.
But on the plus side, if jack Jordan is acquitted of his Uma Thurman stalking charges, it basically means that we’re all legally free to send the object of our obsession terrifying hand-drawn pictures of ourselves walking along arazorblade while they eeirly dig our graves. Good lord, Martine McCutcheon had better hope that Jack Jordan is found guilty.
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by Shawn Lindseth
Hello, and welcome to another hecklerspray. What’s that? Sorry, but we couldn’t quite hear you.
It’s probably because we’re blasting Electric Youth, track 7 of Debbie Gibson’s critically acclaimed second album, also entitled Electric Youth. We realise most people might think it’s entirely too loud, but loud is the only way to listen to such an incredible talent.
Allow us, if you will, to reach past our 8.5×11 full-colour glossy autographed copy of a Debbie Gibson 2003 head shot, past our recently acquired eBay-sandwich bag full of Debbie Gibson hair and soap scrapings, and past the finely stitched velveteen pillow delicately covered in rose petals and lip-shaped chap stick smudges, to turn down the volume. That’s for Debbie. The pillow is for Debbie.
What’s that? You didn’t know any of us Deb-heads still existed? You may be surprised to know, then, that there are enough of us to almost literally fill the convention room of the Renaissance Inn down in Oklahoma City. One such fan even stalked her recently – followed her all the way to her hotel room. She did not appreciate this at all.
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