As you know, I don't ever enter my own contests. But this subject matter has tickled my fancy and at my age I can't let a tickle go by untended.

I'm not a big fan of TV or Tabloids. I seldom watch the news. I figure the less I know about the world, the longer I'll live. Hypertension is alive and well in my body and pushing major numbers.

I do, however, hear the water cooler conversations and see up-to-the minute blurbs on Yahoo.

I've had enough of Michael Jackson and Anna Nicole Smith. I'm also tired of hearing about OJ Simpson, JonBenet Ramsey, and all of the Beatles.

I realize that resurrecting super heros and celebrities does a service to our youth. They get to skip that chapter in their history books.

Anna Nicole Smith is probable my favorite person to hate. I didn't like her when she was alive. Therefore, I see no reason to pretend now.

I should hold her up as an icon. She managed to do what I'd always dreamed of doing. Marry some bazillion-aire and suck her way to the good life.

Let's face it, I did plenty of sucking for free. So who's the bozo brain here?

But enough about me, back to Anna.

Here's a broad with more boobs than brains that scores a rich old goat with enough money to buy every available piece of pussy in North America ... twice.

I don't know what she had to do for the money, considering the blood flow to his joint amounted to zilch minus a hundred. He was lucky if he could take a piss and get his diaper wet.

At his age, he could have swallowed a Semi full of viagra and the only thing to get hard would be another artery in his dead head.

Anna to the rescue. Anna, the doting wife. My guess is she spiked his morning orange juice with Valium and kept her jocker on hold till the old fuck fell asleep.

I'm sure some would believe he married her for her witty banter, her humanitarian efforts to save the whale. I think he married her because she could single-handedly inflate the Hindenburg with her mouth.

Then, with all the luck of a bimbo shooting craps at a table in Reno, Anna ends up a widow while she still has great skin and a snapping turtle. And ... as if that was not enough ... some dingbat judge lets her keep the major portion of the old farts wealth.

This twat hit the geriatric jackpot. I wanted to cry. I cursed the Gods. NOT FAIR, I said.

Eventually, she kills herself with prescription drugs and other such nonsense, proving she was just a bozo brain with a golden snatch.

So, enough about Anna Nicole Smith, already. She is the living proof women don't need to be smart. They just need to be willing to sell their ass to the highest bidder. In Anna's case, it was serendipity. Stupid bimbo meets one senile old man. A match made in hell.

If Anna had been slinging hash for a living, she'd still be alive. Not that I give a big rats ass. I'm too busy reading how Senator Dickwad is banging the mail boy during morning cartoons.