Fame is an interesting thing. I mean, there are so many ways you can gain the attention of the masses. The thing is, fame is one sure way of creating your own private prison. I’m not sure why anyone would want to be famous short of the opportunity of fucking other famous people. Outside of your libido though, why would anyone want to subject themselves to the scrutiny of complete strangers.
The thought of becoming famous should be even less attractive to deviants… like Woody Allen who slept with his adopted daughter… granted it would have been sicker if she was related by blood…
Or how would you like to be gary glitter. That fucker can’t catch a break. Why? Cause he’s famous! If he was just gary rottencrotch from Yorkshire, you can bet he’d still be able to cruise 12 year olds in bangkok with little difficulty. As it is, everyone recognizes that fucker (of course, if he wasn’t famous, that rapist mullet would probably still gain the wrong kind of attention).
I’ve always thought that being famous would have some drawbacks. It probably really is like a prison. I heard that the in-thing now is for celebrities to put on fat suits as a disguise so they can wander around unnoticed.
I wouldn’t mind the paychecks some of those famous people get, but I sure wouldn’t want that life in a fishbowl.
The morally lazy need friends to keep them honest. The morally lazy celebrity needs the paparazzi to keep then honest.
I’m morally lazy, but I’m honest because I’m also too lazy to remember all the lies.
Therefore, no kiddie porn for me!