Hey, I want to quit acting, too. Everyone who’s anyone is either doing it, threatening to do it, or talking about it to get press. I can’t keep up with Hollyweird trends. First it’s Scientology, then colonics (eww), Kabbalah, acai berry…what next? Buncha bandwagon jockeys, the lot. It’s a head spinna.
But back to the quitters. Look at the ever-growing list:
- Joaquin Phoenix – he’s concentrating on his music. Or is he?
- Nicole Kidman – she’s thinking about having more children instead. Err, wait. Maybe not. She’s under contract for at least two more major releases after Australia. One article I read featured the following reader comment: Whoever will they find to speak breathy and act flabbergasted in movies now? HAA
- Diane Lane – hates the parts she’s been getting.
- Angelina Jolie – she wants to fade away and become a grandmother. Nah, just kiddin’. It was another publicity stunt. (Sorry, but I’m about as sick of seeing the “Jolie-Pitts” everywhere as I am of seeing these guys.)
- Nicolas Cage – acting turned him into a monster.
- Eddie Murphy – wants to do stage acting and standup.
- Gary Oldman – now that would be depressing. Seeing as how the article is over a year old, I hope he’s changed his mind.
- Alec Baldwin – couldn’t happen fast enough for me, pal. You said that a year ago and you’re still around — what’s the hold-up?
See, the thing is: don’t threaten to quit. Just QUIT. Bow out gracefully and quietly. Make people wonder aloud where you went, rather than when you’re going to actually leave.
The Thriller and I used to do the IRC thing pretty regularly back in the early days of internet chat (yes, before AOL), when everyone was on dialup. [In fact, read the sentence at the top of the original IRC Primer page. Heh. 93k — I dunno, that might take awhile.] Anyway, we’d be in a channel talking to friends, and some meanyhead would come in and cause trouble. When he/she was given a hard time by the other folks, we’d all get a rambling swan song — the “I Quit!” tirade. Snoozer. Just L-E-A-V-E if you’re leaving. Don’t announce it, fuh cripesake.
Oh, by the way — I’m leaving now, and don’t even try and stop me. I mean it. I’m really going. Right now.
Fink out (I quit!).


Apparently, MJ took refuge in the home (or in one of the homes) of Sheikh Abdulla, son of the king of Bahrain. Since Jacko was down on his financial luck, he promised the Sheikh the moon and stars in return for enjoying a lifestyle any prince would envy. The guy not only ponied up the cash to pay overdue Neverland bills, but also sprung for a $350,000 vacation for MJ and his pals, and a $500,000 advance for his living expenses upon his arrival in the Arab kingdom. He even paid for visits from a “mind mapper” to help Jackson focus his brain — at 


I hear Christmas bells in my little pointy head. And not because I’ve been up to my beady eyeballs in Christmas music since mid-October (which I definitely have), but because I happened upon some fabulous toys yesterday while looking for potential prezzies for Jakey’s stocking.








PS.
Remember yesterday when I wrote about having a “lazy Saturday” and how life was “good” and I was looking forward to enjoying the day?