FFWD Weekly
Copyright © 1999. All Rights Reserved

Mr. Smutty by James Martin Babs Walters's exclusive Monica Lewinsky interview had the best "theme" commercials this side of SuperBowl Sunday. Like the mysterious spot for that mini-series/TV-flick where it sounds like they're talking ’bout Monica ("At age 20, she seduced the leader of the world's most powerful nation..." or some such zinger) but then they're really talking about Cleopatra. Sheer brilliance. Or, right after we've enjoyed Babs raking Monica over the coals re: obesity & depression, there was that Burger King (I think) commercial for the super-duper onion burger: "Stop crying and start eating." Take that, you tubby bundle o' nerves! And that's not to mention previews for The Norm Show (starring Norm MacDonald, and if ya haven't seen Dirty Work rent it right pronto) or It's Like, You Know (terrible title, but it stars that guy from all the Whit Stillman movies), which don't have anything to do w/ Zippergate but look really good all the same. Boy, was Barbara Walters an inconsiderate hag or what? Those weren't even questions she was asking. It was like watching two hours of the bitchy prom queen grill the class misfit at knifepoint: Does being unpopular suck as bad as I think it does? You must've felt terrible when not a single soul signed your yearbook. Babs did everything short of shoving bamboo splinters under Monica's fingernails: gleefully revisiting embarrassing video/audiotape (remember when yr so-called friend violated yr so-called trust? let's hear that again!), paging thru stacks of "Holy cow is Monica ever fat!" tabloid headlines, and cheapening even the most minute element of Monica's relationship w/ the prez (I bet he gives Leaves of Grass to all his whores). Hell, at one point Barbara even called Monica "bigmouth" (or wuzzit "loudmouth"? same diff). Plus: a po-faced Barbara asking Monica to define "phone sex" was right up there w/ the time she thickly asked Will Smith, "Am I getting jiggy with it?" At least if Jerry Springer had scored the exclusive, it would've been dirtier. (And, in discussing Monica's chronic pursuit of married men, it was simply weird how Babs favoured an adultery-with-prez-as-politically-bad view over, say, adultery-as-shitty-thing-to-do-to-someone's-family – an uncharacteristic approach for someone who's built a career on fawning, pseudo-caring explorations of the deep corollary between Demi Moore's messy childhood and her need for massive prosthetic teats.) Me, I'm hoping for a Barbara Walters (shudder) sex scandal, just to take that crabby so-and-so down a notch. Like maybe Laura Schlessinger-styled pix of Ms. Wa-Wa lounging au bufferal around a grimy apartment. Better still: Babs is caught in a compromising position w/ a chicken in the Viper Room, both high on drugs. Best-case sleaze scenario: broadcast-quality video of Babs yanking a string of pearls outta Hugh Downs's urethra. I could go on & on, but I'm sure you see that such a development would be A-Okay in the eyes of God. (Awww, maybe I'm just disappointed ’cuz I'd always hoped Monica would land a gig on The View.) Anyway, to quote a certain macho, seafaring poet (no, not Walt Whitman), I'z hadz allz I'z canz standz, and I'z can'tz standz no more. But I've got one last ZipperGag in me (hope I didn't steal it from somewhere), and I offer it to you as a parting gift. Do w/ it whatcha will. Keep it to yerself! Loan it to a zany FM DJ friend! Wow ’em at the water cooler! Spread it all over the playground like a dirty needle or used condom! Use it in yr next BlockWatch newsletter! The possibilities are endless. Okay, here goes.... Q: How does Bill Clinton define coitus interruptus? A: Close, but no cigar. Thank you and good grief.

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