Tuesday, August 4, 2009

D-Bag of the Week - Ryan O'Neal

Well I apparently was worried for nothing. I wanted to make D-Bag of the week a weekly feature, and I foolishly was worried that I would not be able to find someone to top last weeks inaugural winner Jon Gosselin. Then the week began and we got our new winner or (wiener)

RYAN O’NEAL

Anyone read this Vanity Fair thing on Farrah Fawcett? Good lord. People of a certain age like Ryan O’Neal. I think I saw Paper Moon, when I was a kid and I liked the little girl in it better than him. Come to find out the little girl would grow up to be train wreck Tatum O’Neal.

Farrah really got the shaft when she died. First of all she died the same day as Michael Jackson. So while Michael got 24/7 coverage, she was sort of reduced to a footnote. Now to add insult to injury all the stories coming out of her last days revolve more around Ryan O’Neal. In the Vanity Fair spread her picture is right next to a new picture of sixty eight year old, Ryan O’Neal with his shirt off. Really? Benefit of the doubt, sure they probably asked him to do it. But also he didn’t say “No, that would be gross”, did he.

To me, it seems like, with all the publicity he has gotten lately, Ryan seems to think that his long time girlfriend and the mother of one of children dying, was just the sort of boost his career needs. You’d just think he’d use it to make himself at least SOUND like a better person than he is. And by they way if this IS the good stuff, imagine the things he didn't say. Between getting into a fist fight with his son Griffin while Farrah was on her death bed, or blaming his break up with Farrah on her going through menopause or Farrah catching him in bed on Valentine’s Day with another woman, there is plenty in this article to warrant Ryan O’Neal getting the D-Bag of the Week award. At the very least he was eligible for the less prestigious “Stay Classy, Ryan O’Neal” award. There was one part of this article that put him over the top…

A story from Farrah’s funeral from the article:
“I had just put the casket in the hearse and I was watching it drive away when a beautiful blonde woman comes up and embraces me,” Ryan told me. “I said to her, ‘You have a drink on you? You have a car?’ She said, ‘Daddy, it’s me—Tatum!’ I was just trying to be funny with a strange Swedish woman, and it’s my daughter. It’s so sick.”

Let’s examine what is wrong with this...
  • You are hitting on a woman at the funeral of your long time girlfriend and mother of one of your children.
  • You are hitting on a woman at the funeral of your long time girl friend and mother of one of your children after you “… had just put the casket in the hearse”!
  • You are hitting on a woman you thought was SWEDISH(?) at the funeral of your long time girl friend and mother of one of your children.
  • You confused a woman’s genuine show of affection as some sort of signal that she wanted to sleep with you, at the funeral of your long time girlfriend and mother one of your children.
  • You didn’t recognize the woman you were hitting on at the funeral of your long time girlfriend and mother of one of your children’s funeral, was your DAUGHTER.
But probably the most egregious… the woman you were hitting on was TATUM O’NEAL. Anyone who has read 3 pages and the book jacket of Tatum’s book “A Paper Life”, knows that is a pile of crazy you don’t want to get within 100 yards of. She was too much of a hot mess for John McEnroe. That's right, crazy ass John McEnroe, said “That is too much crazy for me. I am out.”

Tatum’s response: “That’s our relationship in a nutshell,” She sighed. “It had been a few years since we’d seen each other, and he was always a ladies’ man, a bon vivant.”

Bon vivant? No Tatum, he is not a Bon vivant…

He’s a douche bag.

Jason

1 comment:

  1. I am so glad you wrote this, because it bothered me so much when I first read it. "Well, we'd been estranged since 2004." Five whole, adult years after she'd finished growing up, and not really aged all that much...

    Guess what, my father and I spent a few years estranged, and he still never hit on me. Then again, I don't look Sweedish.

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