You can’t fool me, babe

The other night I actually stayed up to watch David Letterman, sacrificing my “beauty sleep” (not that I need it, of course) so I could see just what the hell is up with Cher. I hadn’t seen her in a while, but my mother had told me that she’s gone the way of Michael Jackson and looks ridiculous and not like herself anymore. So of course I couldn’t just tape the show and watch it the next morning. No. I had to watch it “live”. (It turned out that it was a rerun, but I stayed up anyway, because the image wouldn’t be quite as sharp if viewed on a VCR tape, and I wanted to be able to see every detail possible.)
Well, on the same night, the show included “Stupid Human Tricks”. And yes, they were stupid. Some guy split an apple in half with his mouth; an eighth-grade girl “sang” through her nose, which sounded like that “fart” (please beat me for using that word) sound that some funsters purposely make under their arms; and two doofi, both guys, did some thing where one of them crawled along the standing body of the other, without touching the floor. (Sorry you asked? Oh wait. What’s that? You didn’t?)
But perhaps the stupidest trick was Cher’s. She seemed to think that she could get us all to believe that she’s 25 years old.
Years ago I used to actually think she was kind of cool. I used to applaud her for breaking some sort of mold, for having the kind of offbeat, “kooky” looks that no one else had. But now that she’s repackaged herself as some sort of Britney/Christina/Shakira wannabe, I have lost any shred of respect I ever had for her. And what’s worse is that her attitude is out of control. She had the nerve to get all offended when David Letterman asked about her white-blond wig, and she didn’t accept the compliments he heaped on her either.
Sure, Cher, your face may be as smooth as only the most costly of fine vellum, and sure, your tight jeans and the rest of your outfit could have easily come directly from the conservative section of Britney Spears’ closet (does such a section exist?), but you might want to do something about your giggle. I really hates ta breaks it to ya, darling, but your Marge Simpson giggle gives you away.