Sunday, June 1, 2008

Aiken's Makin' Bacon

You know, I've said it before, there's some stuff that you can't make up because you wouldn't even think to make up something so ridiculous. This is one of those things. And I'm not making it up. I swear. (I kind of wish I was, though.) Clay Aiken is going to be a father. Wait. The mother of the child is 50 years old. Wait. She is Jaymes Foster and she is Clay Aiken's record producer. Wait. And the baby is due in August. For cryin' out loud, I said WAIT!!!

Finally. Geez. Now, what?


Correct. Clay Aiken, who seems to be as gay as the day is long (not that there's anything wrong with that), has generously donated a portion of his spermatazoal fluid to Ms. Foster for the purpose of spawning another human being, aka, a child. When I first heard this, I thought, "Hey, way to go, Clay! Nice job dinking, I mean, thinking inside, I mean, outside her box. The box! THE box! Nice job thinking outside the box! (Wow. That was trickier than I thought.) But as it turns out, there was no heterosexual coital activity between Clay and Jaymes, as she was artificially inseminated (translation: turkey baster).

What very little information that her publicist has released (his publicist hasn't said anything yet, but that's not all that surprising to me. The publicist is probably still recovering from the shock of the news. Come on, you still are, aren't you? Well, then...I'm just saying.) tells us that Clay will be involved in the raising of the child. (And it's just a sad statement of affairs that something like that needs to be clarified.) Also, in case you were wondering, Foster was married once before to someone named Lou Leeds Levy, aka "The ol' L-Cubed" and their divorce was finalized last year. Neither they, nor any of their poultry moistening devices, have any children.

Why am I having flashbacks of the whole Michael Jackson-Debbie Rowe debacle of yore? You remember the D.R. publicity stunt, right? She, the nurse of the dermatologist of Michael Jackson, marries Jacko in 1996 (did I mention that the best man was an 8-year old boy? He was. Shocker, eh?) and bears him 2 children, the conception of which no one believes occurred through the "traditional" method, only to receive a rather substantial monetary compensation in 1999 for divorcing him. You know, the typical "nurse-of-dermatologist-meets-and-marries-international-freakazoid-pop-singer-with-an-unhealthy-penchant-for-the-company-of-small-children" fairy tale of yore. Ugh. Look, I'm all for non-traditional living arrangements, but that's a bit much for all of us.

I know that his 'sexuality' has been in question ever since the first time he said, "I don't discuss my sexuality." (Translation: Oh, come on, you can figure that one out on your own!) But, really, if you're trying to, perhaps, sway people into leaning toward your sitting on the straighter side of the fence, couldn't you just start lifting weights or something? Do you have to be getting your sperm all involved in it? (That sounds kind of wrong, but yet it is accurate. Hmm.)

But, hey, at least we know that the melding of the celebrity names will be good. After all, we've had to put up with "Brangelina" and "Tomkat" for way too long, so it's about time we got a name that was a) extremely amusing and b) descriptively correct. Come on, you can noodle it through, can't you? Jaymes Foster. Clay Aiken. That's correct. Faiken.

Stumble Upon Toolbar Sphere: Related Content

No comments: