By Sean Patrick
D-Day has arrived. After a year and some change, America’s super couple has decided to call it quits. No one, including Speidi, is more upset than me. Just a few weeks ago I was praising them for their book and all it has done for my entertainment career. Now they are on a fast track to divorce. Since I always felt like one of their children, I initially acted like any kid going through their parents divorce would and blamed myself.
If my behavior wasn’t so out of control, mommy and daddy would still be together.
If I got better grades, mommy and daddy would still love each other.
If I cleaned my room like they had asked, daddy wouldn’t be psychotic and mommy wouldn’t look like a lion.
After this brief period of self-accusation, I started to focus on their relationship. The more I examined it, the more reasons I came up with as to why this couple has decided to split.
Spencer’s Flesh Colored Beard
It’s no secret that this beard is gross. Look closely. It looks like a blond fifth graders leg hair. Every once in a while he would shave it off, but somehow this blond catastrophe always found it’s way back to his face. It’s like a boomerang of ugliness.
The Time Period When Heidi’s Surgery Hadn’t Healed
Lately, the more I see Heidi, the better she seems to look. But for weeks after she got her surgery she looked odd. I don’t care how strong a marriage is… if your wife is walking around for weeks looking like Michael Jackson, it’s going to affect the passion you once felt for her.
Enzo
What originally was thought to be the adorable next door neighbor character quickly became Heidi’s new boy toy. Enzo seemed harmless: he liked Wii, hide and seek, and saying the darndest things. But it became obvious that Heidi had more than innocent feelings for this young Italian latchkey kid. For this kids birthday, she threw him a party with an elephant. Nothing says I want to take this relationship to the next level than getting an elephant to show up at someone’s birthday party. It’s like the new promise ring. Once that large mammal showed up to Enzo’s party, Spencer didn’t stand a chance.
Spencer Becoming a Crystal Addict
I don’t know what crystals are, but I want to stay as far away from them as I can. They turned Spencer into Gary Busey.
Hans-Rudolf Merz
If anyone in this world wants to cause me pain, it’s my nemesis, Hans-RuDORK Merz. Look at his guilty face. What did you do Hansey? Put blonde hair dye in Spencer’s beard comb? Send your veteran super spy Enzo in to play the strings of Heidi’s heart? I don’t trust you Hans-Rudolf Merz… I never will.
By Sean Patrick
I recently finished reading “How To Be Famous: Our Guide to Looking the Part, Playing the Press, and Becoming a Tabloid Fixture” by Heidi Montag and Spencer Pratt.
This gem was given to me as a Christmas gift, and after reading all 120 pages of it, I feel that I am ready to begin my road trip to stardom.
The first thing this masterpiece made me realize is that my biggest roadblock to fame has been my friends. “The easiest way to begin your journey to fame is to find an existing group of moderately famous people and join them” (6). You hear that friends? My lack of fame is all you’re fault. None of you are moderately famous. Not even close.
So my first step towards becoming famous will be to separate myself from my current group of friends and create a new one. (To any of my current former friends that valued our friendship, I apologize. But I can’t continue to allow you to hold me down)
Back to my new crew. Because I lack the desire to relocate myself to L.A., I’ve decided that I would choose moderately famous people from the Chicagoland area to be my new group of friends. Since there are no popular reality shows that take place around here, I’ve determined that my new posse would consist of local television personalities Bob Rohrman, Peter Francis Geraci, and Eagleman.
Bobby Petey Eags 
After I make these icons my buddies, I need to “take a look at [this] existing group, figure out what is missing, and fill that void” (7). Well lets see… we already have a sassy car salesman with a mustache, a dull lawyer with a communist name, and a giant bird who somehow owns his own insurance company. I guess the only thing this group lacks is a spunky attractive female.
Although I’ve never considered myself a “sex change” kind of guy, this is the price that I’ll have to pay for fame. Like Heidi says, “Nobody’s born perfect, but you CAN get there if you want by working hard at it and letting the beauty of modern science handle the rest” (108). So getting a sex change, although impulsive, ill advised and life altering, is vital for my successful career in show business.
The good thing about a major operation is that I can use it to gain popularity… and nobody knows this better than Heid Montag.
“The key to getting the biggest publicity push [for my sex change operation] is to tease the story by being seen, let the story build up through speculation, then give the interview” (108).
After transforming myself into a woman, I will go to family functions, class reunions, and bars where I was once a regular before I became a female that hangs out with basic cable super studs. Since my former friends and family will remember me as a guy (I hope), they will begin to speculate that I may have gotten some work done. I’ll let the story build up. Then I’ll give the interview.
… I don’t know what interview exactly, but I’ll give it. Soon after that I’ll have to start dealing with the paparazzi.
When it comes to getting my photo taken constantly when I’m in public, Speidi has assured me that, “it takes away from some of [my] private space, but once [I] see [myself] in the magazines a few times, [I'll] gladly make that trade” (55). I agree. After getting a completely regrettable sex change operation, I am going to want nothing more than my picture to be in as many magazines as possible.
Obviously I can’t expect the paparazzi to simply follow me around because of my sex change. If that were true, Brett Farve would be on the cover of every US Weekly. (Burn) I’ll need to earn their interest. The paparazzi “wont be coming to [me], at least not at first. [I'll have to] go to them” (55). Although I’m not sure where the Roselle paparazzi hang out, I’m guessing that it’s probably at our Brunswick Zone. That or the BP on the corner of Roselle Rd. and Irving Park. I’ll make both of these places my new hot spots.
So soon I’ll be a twenty-eight year old with a remorseful sex change hanging out with Bob Rohrman, Peter Francis Gerasi, and Eagleman at Brunswick Zones and gas stations. Like my mentors have said, “Shameless = Famous.” Lets hope so.
SEANSSABBATICAL MEGAWEEK!
