Free You Don't Sweat Much for a Fat Girl by Celia Rivenbark

Marie a monkey.
    “Don’t call her that! She’s my daughter one hundred percent!”
    Given his propensity to wax philosophic over a cold ’un while a cigarette bounces up and down on his lip, who am I to argue? Maybe he has the DNA test to prove it.
    I smell ratings bonanza here. No, sorry. That was just Jessica Marie flinging something. But I seriously believe that TLC could craft a TV special here that melds all of its best efforts from the TLC/Discovery family.

    Those wacky Duggars (see “Legosex,” above) should add a few monkey babies to the mix. The only problem would be convincing the monkeys to give up their computer skills in favor of wearing gingham aprons and writing on a slate.
    Or Jessica Marie, who wears pink sparkly tutus, I kid you not, could compete in the gruesomely watchable Toddlers & Tiaras , a show in which fathers of little-girl beauty pageant contestants dare to teach dance routines while claiming not to be gay at all.
    If Jim, Jessica Marie’s possible bio-dad, lurched around the corner in his wife beater at just the wrong time, those feisty Police Women of Broward County could wrassle him to the ground and Tase him just like they do in every show. Carmindy, the comely makeup artist from What Not to Wear could then wax, well, everything.
    Meanwhile, with Jon and Kate’s little family off the air thanks to Jon’s unfortunate penchant for cheatin’, the good news is that Octomom might finally get her shot.
    I imaging she’s licking those inflated lips of hers over the prospect.
    “Did someone call for a mother of multiples who has sleek Angelina Jolie-like hair? Because I had my eight all at one time, not just six like Kate Gosselin. I mean anyone could have six babies at one time. Please. I could do that while I’m checking out at Costco.”
    So Octonut may, at last, get her close-up. Like they always
say, when one door closes, another eight or so open in the oversized custom maxi van provided by sponsors.
    I’m sure the folks at TLC are only slightly jittery about replacing the Gosselins with a woman who thinks that Brad Pitt actually belongs to her, and I don’t mean Ann Curry, bless her heart. (Note to NBC: Give Ann Curry a vacation. She touched Brad’s face during an interview! The only people allowed to do that are Angelina and maybe George Clooney.)
    Meanwhile, sad Kate Gosselin hopes to rise like a publicity-crazed phoenix from the ashes of Jon’s burned and slashed Ed Hardy T-shirts (could he possibly look like more of a doofus?). She’s entertaining the notion of hosting a TV talk show, which would be perfect for viewers who find Tyra too intellectually challenging.
    No offense, but really, what does Kate bring to the talk-show table? I’m picturing the first week of shows based on Kate’s ideas … .
    Monday: Why Jon Cheated on Me With That Skank
    Tuesday: Jon’s Hairplugs Look Stupid, Don’t They?
    Wednesday: Jon Gosselin’s a bed wetter (and other fun facts)
    Thursday: All Eight Kids Tell Why They Hate Jon and Why They Think Our Bodyguard Is Way More Buff and Looks a Little Like Mark Harmon, Am I Right?”
    Friday: Everybody Who Hates Jon Gets a Free Pontiac!
    A talk show could also be problematic for Kate because she has a vexing habit of making up questions and answering them herself and calling that conversation:

    “Did I feel angered and betrayed by Jon’s selfishness? You bet I did.”
    “Do I want dressing on the side? Yes, absolutely I do.”
    “Is it completely hypocritical to kvetch about the paparazzi while courting them at the same time? You betcha!”
    Octomom, your moment is now. Seize the day, you crazy-ass breed cow. And when you go into that meeting, you might want to take Caroline with you. Just saying.

11
    You Know You Want It: Snuggie’s Embrace Will Melt You
    H ere in the South, we don’t really do cold. Cold weather is, frankly, unseemly. We have no desire to experience it and we even feel a tad dizzy and nauseous when confronted with the