You know the Freak-o-Meter has been pegged when the self-appointed "King of Pop" starts publicly cross-dressing and it's barely mentioned.
This may or may not be Michael Jackson dressed as a woman to avoid detection with daughter, Paris.
(The lack of veils, monkeys, midgets and dangling babies above balconies makes confirmation difficult.)
Or maybe it's just Teri Hatcher.
Teri Hatcher’s book, Burnt Toast, reveals, among other things, her favorite body part is her nipples. She doesn’t elaborate on “crazy, wild sex”, but does say she’d like some.
And, did I forget to mention? The book is dedicated to her daughter. The dedication reads, “I would try not to eat as much burnt toast as my mom did and maybe you wont eat any ever”.
The hell?
First of all, I don’t think Teri eats any food, burnt or not. And, secondly, what am I supposed to do with that advice exactly? Reset the timer on my toaster? Throw away any toast that I burn? Stop having “crazy, wild sex” and pay more attention to the toast as it cooks?
Maybe I’m just supposed to love my nipples.
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