Mama’s tears over George Clooney and Captain Kenny Filthy Pants

After all these years of wandering Hollywood in my best sugar-coated cherry boa. After so many tearful episodes of Dr. Douglas Ross shaming all those slutty ungrateful patients on E.R, which occasionally was a freakshow. You know the ones. They’re all hateful. Now run to me! I’ll hold you all! We’ll cry together and let our mascara run through the entire Kleenex factory! Life is so ungrateful, so shattering, so down in the gutter of I-don’t-want-any-children chile-pepper-made George Clooney tears! Yes, it’s true my little hoochie babies, Georgey wants no babies. And this man isn’t getting any younger.

He’s starting to remind me of George Hamilton, all made up, dark-skinned and headed for the Hollywood Ball, or to his big lonely dining room at his flash-in-the-pan Italian Villa. And mama’s never invited! Shame on him! I hope the paparazzi's tell all! Oh yes, take a look at the Clooney Files, my little Clooney-loving babies.

Oh but he did write mama back once many years ago after I sent him an E.R. love letter as a distraught teenage youth in Delano, California. Girlfriend, Neneng Tea was there and she can tell you all about it. Here was his response:

Dear Enrique,

I’m sorry about your brother and the chickens. But I am glad you all saved that big fella from the cock fight that got its beak half torn off. The pictures you sent I can see you stitched him up well. Must have been terrible and you’re right. It would make for a tender episode of E.R., one all about the dangers of pesticides and grape vineyards and injured animals. I don’t know about the sentimental love story between Doctor Ross and a teenage pesticide survivor. Sounds too risqué for television. I’m not one of the show’s writers anyway, so I don’t much of a say in any of it.

Best Wishes

George Clooney


What can mama say? I was enraptured. And now, any thought of he and I and future babies are out of the picture. I can’t believe these stars. Even Captain Kenny Filthy Pants has a tribe of his own. But he’s out of touch as well because he’s married. So much for love. I will have to run to Hollywood and find me Orlando Bloom and steal him away to a big hotel for a night of mama’s favorite costumes. Now pick me up because I’ve fallen in your arms! Oh!