My Point...And I Do Have One

my first food taster—he died after eating a bad batch of Rice Krispies Treats that I must have undercooked. Dutch, my second food taster is gone, too. He didn’t die; I fired him for either looking me in the eyes, using the word “and,” or forgetting to start each sentence with “Madame do you wish that I …” A celebrity can fire anybody for whatever reason they decide and not be thought of as rude—in fact it’s considered to be sort of cute and whimsical.); Bong Bong, my tennis pro; and a group of people who don’t look familiar to me but claim to be my friends.
    Celebrities can drive eight thousand miles withoutchanging their oil. Plus, they get a 5 percent discount at participating Jiffy Lubes.
    If a celebrity goes to a hospital for a major operation, any plastic surgery the celebrity desires is included for free. Or if you pay to get one lip injected with collagen, you get your second lip injected for free.
    The sign NO SHOES NO SHIRT NO SERVICE never applies to celebrities.
    At the supermarket, celebrities are allowed to take thirteen items into the ten-items-or-less lane. They can also pay by check if the sign says CASH ONLY . When they buy milk they can add five days to the expiration date.
    Celebrities can go on any ride in any amusement park no matter how short they are.
    If a celebrity is on a boat that is sinking—the rule becomes celebrities first, then women and children.
    So when you’re walking down the street and you think you’ve spotted your favorite celebrity but you want to be sure, just remember this rule of thumb: A horse sweats, a man perspires, a woman glows—but only a celebrity twinkles.

your own
fantasy
conversation
with eilen
degeneres

    I received the cutest letter the other day. Here it is:
    Dear Ellen,
How are you? I am fine. I hope you are fine, too. I mean it. You are my most favoritest celebrity in the whole world. I like you even more than that guy in the commercial who talks with a funny voice. (He makes me laugh. Ha Ha Ha!!!)
    You seem very nice. I wish that I could meet you so that we could have a nice talk. Here is a picture I’ve drawn of you and me having a nice talk.

    The dog in the picture with me is my dog. His name is Mr. Doggy. I named him. My wife thinks that it’s a stupid name. She says that a forty-two-year-old man who works as a High School Vice-Principal should be able to come up with a better name. I think it’s a good name.
    Yours truly,
Bobby Munchloney
    Actually, upon rereading that letter, it’s not all that cute. But, it does raise an interesting question: What would it be like to talk with Ellen DeGeneres?
    I know that before I became a celebrity I always wondered what it would be like to talk to somebody famous like Carol Burnett, Stevie Wonder, Elizabeth Taylor, Zamfir, Punch, Judy, or Marlon Brando. Would they benice, would they be interesting, would they lend me money?
    Most of you will never get the chance to talk with me, unfortunately (or fortunately, in the case of Bobby Munchloney). So for your benefit, I’ve decided to provide you with a fantasy interactive conversation between yourself and myself. All you have to do is fill in your own dialogue in the space provided. My responses are 100 percent my own and exactly what I would say in reaction to whatever you would say.
    For the purpose of this little fantasy, your character will be called Complete Stranger (later shortened to CS). I will be Ellen. Even if your name is Ellen, only say the lines you’ve written for Complete Stranger. Otherwise, we’ll have anarchy on our hands. (Anarchy, by the way, is very hard to get off of your hands. Again, you’d think club soda might work, but it doesn’t.)
    Let the fantasy begin.
SETTING: The housewares section of a large department store.
    ACTION: You are browsing, carrying a bag of clothes you just bought, when you see me looking at a selection of fry daddies and electric butter churners. You do a double take and then tentatively approach me.
    Suddenly, you are lifted off the ground, your feet dangling in the air like the branches of a banana tree during a monsoon (I’m sorry—I couldn’t think of a better simile). Seeing that you mean me no harm, I motion for my 250-pound bodyguard to put you down. He does so in a surprisingly gentle way.
    E LLEN : Hi, I’m Ellen DeGeneres. Who are you?
    C OMPLETE S TRANGER: ______ ______
    E LLEN: And what do your friends call you?
    CS.: ______ ______
    E LLEN: Wow! That’s one of my