For Heterosexual Morons
Shannen Doherty has never left me cold, exactly; I quite simply never cared. Like many aspiring teenaged bitches in 1988, I appreciated (and still appreciate) her turn in Heathers as the green-clad, Melville-obsessed monster Heather Duke, but she was really just support for Christian Slater's overbaked Jack Nicholson impersonation and Winona Ryder cementing her now-ridiculed position as Hollywood's Muse of Edgy Filmmaking. Two years later, Miss Doherty joined the cast of Beverly Hills, 90210. I watched the show once, said, "Hey, it's that chick from Heathers," and then proceeded to ignore both the show and Miss Doherty for the rest of its ten-year run. Imagine my surprise, then, when I read Tony Romando's introduction to Miss Doherty's interview in the December lingerie issue of For Him Magazine. Apparently, by ignoring Miss Doherty and 90210, I had missed out on one of "the defining [televised] moments of our age." That's right, along with "the exploding space shuttle, Mr. Zapruder's 'Farewell, Mr. Kennedy' home movie, and the Reagan assassination attempt," the 295 episodes of Beverly Hills, 90210 have left an indelible mark on the hearts and minds of the nation. Yeah, Tony, when I think back on the defining worldwide events television brought me at the turn of the last decade, Brandon and Brenda Walsh moving from Minnesota to California is right up there with the fall of the Berlin Wall and the Ceausescus getting Mussolinied by their former serfs in Romania. And linking the decidedly Gen-X triad of Reagan, shuttle, and Spelling with the 1963 assassination in Dallas? Whatever, you hack.
I should explain that For Him Magazine couldn't be further from holding a place on my list of must-read monthly magazines. Aside from Vanity Fair and the occasional Talk, I avoid celebrity blowjob rags like the plague. I particularly avoid the type of celebrity blowjob soft-core heterosexual porn offered by the recent explosion of "Lad Rags" -- pointless, tree-destroying crap like Maxim, Gear, and Front. And, of course, FHM, a newsstand blight across both North America and the United Kingdom best known for slinging barely-legal female "stars" like Majandra Delfino and Rachael Leigh Cook into pasties and panties and having them pose as if they're auditioning for G-String Divas. Or a bed in a Reno whorehouse.