Heavy is the Head . . .

In recent days, there has been a lot in the news about beauty queens losing their crowns. Miss USA, Tara Conner almost lost hers. Miss Teen USA, Katie Blair, was caught up in the same scandal. Miss Nevada, Kate Rees, was fired over some raunchy photos. Several years ago, The Donald had to fire the reigning Miss Universe.

This got me to wondering why these women are having such a hard time hanging onto their crowns? In fact, why are there so few monarchs now-a-days? If we go by the current psycho-babble we hear from the talking heads on TV, it surely isn't the fault of the people involved. It is demon alcohol, or parental abuse or parental over-involvement or under-involvement, or peer pressure, or the pressure of society's expectations or . . . whatever!

All we know is that these poor girls are not to blame. So I did a little internet research and discovered something interesting. The reason the beauty queens (and by extension all monarchs) are having such a hard time hanging onto their crowns . . . is the crowns.

The crowns are to blame! Here are some recent photos of Hungary's Anita Horvath attempting to wear her crown after winning the Miss Bikini World Final pageant. She is having trouble hanging onto the crown from the very beginning.


So we sent our team of cracked reporters out on the streets. Their mission was to find the company that provides the crowns to these pageants and various monarchies. Unfortunately we aren't very good at this kind of thing and all we found was a place that makes bowling trophies which, by the way, are no picnic to wear on your head either.

The lessons to be learned here? Beauty queens are good. Crowns are bad. So whether booze or drugs or lesbian sex or under-age drinking had anything to do with it, Tara Conners was right after all. The Donald is a sucker for the top of a girl's head and that is why you need to keep your roots touched up.





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A Little Bit of Magic in the Air . . .

I was thinking of becoming a gigolo. I mean, I already hang out with women old enough to appreciate that stuff, anyway. Most of them can sneak a little extra cash from their husbands and the husbands are at work all day to boot. That gives me from noon until three to work my magic. I figured I wouldn't start until noon because I needed a little me time, too.

I just had to learn a few gigolo tricks, first. Like suggestively arching one eyebrow. I tried it in front of the mirror and every time some facial muscles went up . . . a few others went down. My face was twitching so much I looked like Miss USA trying to keep it together until her next fix. When everything finally settled down, I tried it again. This time I made my ears wiggle. So I thought, "Whatever . . ." and tried to make them wiggle suggestively. Admittedly, it's not hot but it should get their attention.

The next thing I needed was the pencil thin mustache. I figured, "How hard can that be?" All I can say is that there must be a special tool or attachment for that. Triple-head Norelcos are not that precise. So I thought I'd encourage what I hadn't mangled with an eyebrow pencil. All I found was a brown Sharpie. Did you know those things are permanent?

Finally, I had to work on an exotic accent. I knew I already had all of the savoir faire I needed but the accent is always a nice touch. I was going for something mysterious and Mediterranean. The closest I got was a cross between Polish and beaner. Sort of a Don Diegokowski. So I threw in a lot of "How you say?'s" and I was golden.

So, I splashed a little Canoe on my chest fur, threw on a pair of low-rider jeans and a silk disco shirt open to mid-fur. I borrowed a bunch of my wife's gold chains for a Mr. T starter set and I was good to go.

I thought I'd cruise by the local diner first. That seemed like a typical place for desperate housewives to hang out. (If this didn't work I'd try the laundry-mat and the grocery stores next.) When I got inside I looked around. There were so many variations of my theme going on that I thought I was in an Elvis impersonator's convention. And what made it worse was that they seated us all in the former smoking section -- together.

So, I made the best of it. When I saw the waitress was approaching I furtively fluffed my chest fur. When she got there I suggestively wiggled my ears, stroked my slightly crooked fake mustache and said in my best Polish/beaner accent, "Hey there! Whot eese especial today bee-sides you?"

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Trump to Miss USA: You're . . . 21?(!)

Tara Conner, who has just turned 21 (legal), has been given a second chance. She apparently humiliated herself, privately, to Donald Trump's satisfaction, so she was given an opportunity to become the latest celebrity poster-girl for sobriety.

Boo-fucking-Hoo!

Tara Conner has agreed to go into a rehabilitation program for an unspecified problem and would not be stripped of the title of Miss USA 2006.

Conner tearfully told reporters at the news conference that she realizes she is a role model and denied reports of widespread problems with alcohol and drugs.

"I wouldn't say that I am an alcoholic. That would be pushing the envelope a little bit," she said. "I don't have a problem with anything like that."

Where's his other hand?

We here at Escape Velocity would like to congratulate Ms. Conner for using her head on . . . er, uh, with The Donald and wish her success in overcoming her non-problem. As we all know, the first step to recovery is denying you have a problem.

Tara Conner joins a growing list of celebrity bad girls that includes Lindsay Lohan, Britney Spears, Paris Hilton, Nicole Richie and others. And, like the rest of them, Tara is permitted to act outrageously, break laws, shed a few tears, bat her eyes and get a pass. Then she'll do some bogus rehab time before reassuming the mantle of "role model".

It is all bullshit. If the board members of the Miss USA Pageant and Donald Trump want young women to learn something from the Tara Conner debacle, she should have been stripped of her title and fired.

The lesson to be learned would be actions have consequences. Behave yourself. Don't fuck up.

But in the land of second, third and fourth chances (for celebrities only) ordinary little girls and young women must learn the harsh reality of that lesson for themselves.. There are no second chances for ordinary citizens. Drunk driving, drug possession and car accidents have life ruining consequences. The law doesn't care if they are young or pretty or how much they cry and "Tara got away with it" is not an acceptable argument in a court of law.

The next time The Donald wants to exhibit his trumped up compassion, maybe he should think of the message he is sending to the rest of us. Rank has privilege . . . and this is as rank as it gets.

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Another Near Miss . . .

Tara Conner, Miss USA 2006, is in danger of being dethroned. It turns out that the 20 year old beauty queen likes the night life and likes to drink.

Of course, the judges should have known that, when for the talent portion of the competition, she was able to chug 64 oz. of a beer-like substance from a funnel and hose contraption while keeping a spoon hanging on her nose. And while the other girls were putting Vaseline on their teeth and touching up their hair, Tara was looking for a breath mint.

Here is a picture of her with the reigning Miss Universe. Tara Conner is on the right:



She seems a little distracted. One of the lighting crew must have mentioned going to Hooters for lunch.

You know, I like to kid around here at Escape Velocity but every now and then we hit upon a very serious subject. Most people, especially young people, don't appreciate how their present actions can affect their future lives. They don't appreciate the fact that other people are looking to them as a guidepost for their own futures. And, in their quest for momentary fun or pleasure, they sometimes unwittingly give their enemies the opening to do them harm..

I am, of course, talking about Tara Conner -- future mother of John Conner, the only man who can prevent The Rise of the Machines. Even now, the cyborgs of 2029 are searching their history for the perfect moment to send one of their own back in time to prevent the birth of John Conner.

Next week, Donald Trump and the Miss USA pageant organizers are going to meet to determine Tara Conner's fate. Ironically, it may already have been decided in 2029.

And what if one of Tara's drunken, lost nights in the Big Apple has already resulted in the conception of John Conner. Is The Donald justified in protecting the dignity of the pageant and a money-making franchise? Will the cyborgs from 2029 find . . .

Excuse me a moment . . . what? . . . Ohhhh! . . . It's Sara Connor . . . and that's Connor with an O . . . and I'm a big . . . Hey! Wait a minute . . . Haven't you ever made a mistake? . . .

Well, anyway, under-age people shouldn't drink. It doesn't matter how smokin' they are.

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