What results, might you ask? Only the most important DNA test of our generation. We just get to find out who fathered Anna Nicole Smith’s bastard child. Oh, you didn’t care? I wish nobody did.As far as the “Who’s the Daddy?” drama goes (drum roll please), Anna Nicole’s old flame, photographer Larry Birkhead, just won the baby lottery. He could stand to receive as much as 3 percent of what this bastard child may inherit. Reports say that this child could stand to inherit a chunk of the $500 million fortune her gold-digger of a mother left behind.
Why do I refer to this baby as a bastard child instead of using her name? It just sounds better. The name Dannielynn makes my skin crawl.
Anyway, it is not a surprise that every Tom, Dick and Harry who has had relations with Anna Nicole has come forward to claim paternity. This baby is the ticket to never working again. However, I think that this little gem should get nothing except the bad name into which she was born. The only money I think she is entitled to are the dollar bills her mom used to have shoved in her G-string. OK, fine, maybe some money from the Trimspa ads, but that’s it. She is going to have to get out there and shake it just like her mother did.
The real victims of this saga are the children of J. Howard Marshall II. You know, the old Viagra-popping oil tycoon Anna Nicole tricked into a marriage back in the ’90s. How irate would I be if I were the offspring of Mr. Marshall? Knowing that a percentage of my inheritance could be going to the love child of a stripper would really grind my gears.
Unrelated, I heard she was buried with half of Mr. Marshall’s ashes, leaving me only to think that she snorted the other half when she couldn’t get in touch with her dealer. OK, fine, I made that part up. But I wouldn’t put it past her.
In closing, might I just say that the news today is a joke and the “serious news” is like a gossip column for the upwardly mobile individuals of Hollywood and Washington. Only in America can a homely trailer-park lass get knocked up at 18, rise from local stripper to Playmate of the Year, marry a multi-millionaire, get fat, get skinny again, compare herself to Marilyn Monroe (and get away with it), do copious amounts of Methadone, die of an overdose and still have a “legacy.” I must say, “Bravo, Anna, bravo.”
Since the American public is sick of hearing about real-life news, I think there should be a 24-hour news network solely dedicated to celebrity gossip. It could be like Fox News on speed. I am tired of hearing about boring kidnappings and serial killers. I want to see celebrities’ mugshots and Nicole Richie’s malnourished frame. I want to know if Lindsay Lohan has herpes and who gave it to her. You know, the stuff that really matters. Trashy baby drama is so 2006.