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I am putting an unhealthy amount of energy into hoping this bit of celebrity gossip is true.

This guy can't seem to figure it out. First he's with the south's future trashiest barefoot coffee stand and truckstop regular who just happens to have also built her career on her navel, the word "y'all", and impersonating not-that-innocent schoolgirls. Then, he moves on to a 7-foot giant with a Joker-esque mouth and less body-fat (and indications she's actually female) than Lance Armstrong. Plus, she has this irritating "aren't I every man's dreamgirl? I burp, fart, wear boycut undies AND put out!!! Hahahahahaha!!!" persona that really bugs.

But this Scarlett thing could turn it around for him -- she's classy enough to bring shoes on a road trip, subtle enough not to end up dancing on some nightclub table or star in every cheesy comedy as the quirky, burping girl next door, and has enough booty to actually shake something to Alpha Dog's little poppy r & b stuff.

...

I've got to stop spending my money on these US Weekly magazines.