As much as everyone enjoys my single-theme rant columns, the downside is, there is never any space left for the intriguing Extraordinary Insights featured in most other OMMs.  Well, to make up for such deprivation, Ive put together a bunch of em this month and will further save space by foregoing the usual brilliant segues between them.

*Hello.  During conversations, do you like to take a sip from an ever-present beverage container to accentuate "witty" declarations?  Great--I'll be over Thursday to break both your elbows.

*These are "experts"?!?  Succumbing to the numskull trend to draw  up "all-time best" lists, the American Film Institute's "Top 100 Comedies" roster not only had Groundhog Day ahead of City Lights (and others like it), but included Singin' In The Rain amongst the very top.  How do you like that:  all those reference books, catalogs and video stores had it wrong when they listed Singin' as a musical!!

*I've got something for those ignorami who brush off the existence of UFOs with the rationale "After all these years, there's not one single tangible piece of physical evidence," particularly the ones who base their foolish claims on some sort of Bible-related arrogance.   Okay, smart-mouths, let's talk about your boy Jesus Christ:  "After all these CENTURIES, there's not one single...."

*What do you bet three-quarters of the music press knocking the pre-fab groups for being assembled and blatantly commercial, gladly spent bucks on Kiss products in the past?

*The only thing more infuriating than a guy who does the Big Little Boy routine to hit on women is seeing it actually work.  I have never known one guy doing this bit who wasn't a slick little hustler, thoroughly unapologetic about running a scam.  When are you gals gonna get wise to this con???  Isn't it obvious a grown man who seems to need a mommy substitute is a XXL loser?

*Why It's A-OK To Hate The General Public, Reason #726:  In  late July, 2001, some boob wrote into the Parade magazine Q&A section and inquired about Regis Philbin's personal wealth, wondering how Philbin could afford to give away all those millions of dollars on the game show he hosted.  Don't you feel secure knowing the inquirer can go over to Sears and buy a rifle any time he pleases?    

*Johnny Thunders remains dead but Elton John remains on tour.  Why?  Jennifer Lopez videos are shot from the front.  Why?  Merchants continue to believe having Whoopi Goldberg as a spokes-hag will inspire people to buy their products.  Why?  Truly gifted unknown filmmakers can't get a leg up, yet movies revolving around dreadful SNL skit characters are constantly being released by major studios.  Why?  Mariah Carey gets a boob job.  Why?  Why?  Why???  Oh, yeah, because shes nuts.  But I still have no answers for the rest of the questions.

*Elvis Costello in a tux, singing while Burt Bacharach plays piano:  Sorry, I just can't buy into that not being a credibility strangler.  Wasn't it people like Bacharach who made people like Costello necessary?

*For those unfamiliar with the man, Pat Croce is one of those wired 24/7 guys who worked himself up from 76ers trainer to team boss.  The operative word here is "worked," and Croce merits full respect for movin' on up via the sweat glands rather than daddy's money or any of the other traditional routes.

Unfortunately, after obtaining that de-luxe apartment in the sky, Pat became a male Richard Simmons, so fascinated with his achievements, he felt obligated to tell the have-nots his personal success philosophies...over and over and over...whether one wanted to hear them or not.

Pat Croce feels great.  That's not mere supposition:  "I feel great" is his mantra cum p.r. catchphrase, worked into interviews just like a polished pro wrestler.  In fact, Pat feels so great, he wrote a best-seller about it entitled--drum roll, please--"I Feel Great--And You Will, Too."  He's even taken it upon himself to pen a weekly "Inspire" column for the Sunday newspaper magazine insert.

Hey, everybody, Pat Croce feels great!  Isn't that of vital concern to us all?  Surely, the entire cosmos breathes a collective sigh of relief over Father Pasquale's pronouncement.  Granted, the cynical might look upon his ruminations as self-obsessed showboating and extremely off-putting, but that doesn't faze Pat.  After all...

Pat Croce feels great.  That's all that matters.  Your paramour has contracted a terminal disease and you wake each day to find him/her more crippled up in pain.  Not to worry--Pat Croce says, "You can feel great, too."  Your best friend fell victim to the "heroin chic" myth and you're on the way to his funeral--but don't despair.  Pat Croce feels great.

A retarded homeless woman was gang-raped in a sports complex parking lot.  Perhaps she should have been reading one of Pat's motivational columns during the ordeal so she too could feel great.  Little Jennifer's drunken stepfather abuses her to post kiddie porn on the Internet...but what she should most be concerned about is whether Pat Croce feels great.  

What do you know; Pat was unceremoniously canned after a failed grab for more power.  Gee, I wonder how Croce felt the very moment he got the pink slip.

*There's sure a lot of what I call Emperor's New Clothes Syndrome (ENCS) going around these days.  This is the condition whereby no one has the guts to tell big shots they are putrid at a specific act for fear the insulted will have the news breaker blacklisted within his profession.  For example, there doesn't seem to be a soul in Hollywood willing to tell Stephen King and Quentin Tarantino "Would you please stay the hell behind the cameras?  Your 'acting' blows."

The most ridiculous ENCS scenario in recent times, though, involves Chris Tucker.  With his high-pitched delivery and gawky physique, it's not much of a stretch to bill Chris as "the ebon Jerry Lewis."  Yet despite being so skinny, if he wore a bellman's cap he'd be mistaken for a giant pencil, Tucker appeared in the Rush Hour 2 print ads striking what could generously be called a martial arts stance--with his shirt off.

Do the public a huge favor, Chris--no more posing topless, okay?  Some of us like to thumb through the newspaper during meals.

Hubba Hubba Honeys:  Samantha Brown sleeps around--and gets paid for it!  Furthermore, she takes along a camera crew and does it all over the country!

What's that?  You say, "The same could be said about Carmen Elektra"?  Tread lightly, wiseass.  I don't cotton to you drawing an analogy twixt the latter star-schtuper and my future former girlfriend.

<==="I dream of Stately with the big blue eyes."

I guess I better explain.  Silky Sam is hostess of a couple of Travel Channel series, crashing around the States in either the hippest hotels or the vacation homes of obscenely wealthy moneybags who would take one look at you or me approaching and loose the Dobermans.  And though she's never actually said so on-air, I just know she's often thinking, "Damn, I wish Stately were here with me."

The traveling temptress may not have the super structure of Denise Richards, Francine York, Uschi or certain others profiled here in the past--though there's no question this mod's packing quite a curvy bod.  But what Foxy Brown II has cornered the market in is cutes.  In fact, as a first-hand expert on the subject, I hereby declare saucy Samantha "The Hands-Down Cutest Woman In Show Business."

From her delivery and asides (you know, the unscripted stuff), I get the distinct impression Sam has a couple of sets of the kookiness gene, too--and your narrator sho is a sucker for kooky cuties.  No doubt Samantha'll come to Manorville and, like all women, will get caught up in that whole "love at first sight" routine the moment she meets me.  I usually blow it off; but this time I intend to cut the lustful lady a break.  Why, I can even envision, when she drags me home to meet her mom, whipping out a ukulele and warbling that old song "Mrs. Brown, You've Got A Lovely Daughter."  That's right, the World's Coolest Columnist will voluntarily make a cornball jackass out of himself.  That's how damn cute Samantha is!

Now, why couldn't they have had HER pose sans shirt in Rush Hour 2 ads???                 

               Practicing for her dream date with SWM, perhaps?==>