Much like Ebeneezer Scrooge was haunted by a bunch of ghosts who really, really wanted him to play Secret Santa with his employees, I am plagued at the end of each and every year by unwanted psychic revelations. I don't know why it happens. I don't know why, every time I close my eyes in late December, I am forced to witness precognitive flashes of what lies in store for the glitterati in the coming twelve months. But I am. And, every year, I find that the only thing that enables me to get through the days, to end this torment, is to share these visions with the masses.
And so, for the third year in a row, I bring you my celebrity predictions for the new year.
Sacha Baron Cohen will score a big hit with his follow up to Borat, in which he poses as a Norwegian lumberjack and tours America, tearing off nuns' clothes and smearing them with pig shit. Bjorn the Nun-Fucker will be hailed by critics as a ground-breaking work of comedy.
The cast of Grey's Anatomy will get so damned hot that they spontaneously combust. Patrick Dempsey, the horribly burnt sole survivor, will never work again, aside from seasonal appearances as Freddy Krueger in a haunted house in Fresno.
Britney Spears will have a very difficult time salvaging her image after a tabloid story reveals that she's been having her two children working in a meth lab in her basement. Even former friend Paris Hilton will hold a press conference in which she states, "Yeah, Spears is kinda trashy."
In a bloodless coup, Angelina Jolie will take over every government on the planet, announcing that only she can save us from certain destruction. Brad Pitt will stand there looking pretty.
A Jeopardycontestant's ignorance will so irritate host Alex Trebec that he runs across the stage and starts slapping the living shit out of her.
M. Night Shyamalan will cast himself as the lead in his next film, an epic about a misunderstood director who kills all the critics in the world and then everyone elects him king and there's cake for everyone and they all live happy ever after because M. Night Shyamalan is so brilliant.
After finding out that they haven't been renewed for another season, the Damon Lindelof and the producers of Lost will end the series by revealing that all the characters are actually bacteria in someone's asshole.
Twyla Tharp will bounce back from the disaster that was The Times They Are A-Changin' by creating a brand new jukebox musical based on the songs of Menudo.
O.J. Simpson will wind up sitting on a corner in Miami with a hand-written cardboard sign that says, "Why Lie? I Killed My Wife and Now I Need Money for Beer." Most days, he'll make enough for a six-pack of Corona, but no limes.
After Martin Scorsese loses the Best Director Oscar to Barry Sonnenfeld (scoring a dark horse win for RV), the ghost of Robert Altman will return and kick the living shit out of every voting member of the Academy.
Kevin Federline's fifteen minutes of fame will come to a definitive close when the producers of The Surreal Life turn down his requests to be on the show because he's not dignified enough to share a screen with Mario Lopez.
Aaron Sorkin'sStudio 60 on the Sunset Strip will score its lowest ratings ever with an episode in which Matthew Perry writes a comedy sketch so perfect that it heals lepers, but the network's Standards and Practices department won't let them air it because it might offend Inuits.
A frustrated Alex Rodriguez will finally have his fill of booing crowds at Yankee Stadium and, after striking out during an inter-league game against the Mets, will pull his pants down and begin throwing feces at the spectators. Oddly enough, this will finally win the respect of New York sports fans.
In February, Democratic National Committee chairman Howard Dean will call off the 2008 Democratic Primary and just go ahead and declare Hillary Clinton and BarackObama the co-nominees.
After Matthew McConaughey's Sexiest Man Alive is jeopardized by the shocking revelation that he regularly has sex with penguins, Donald Trump will hold a press conference in which he defends McConaughey and gives him permission to retain the title. Unfortunately, this kicks Trump's feud with Rosie O'Donnell into a higher gear and the two end up disemboweling each other in a vicious Times Square showdown.
It looks to be another banner year for our precious, precious celebrities. Well, God knows they deserve the best of everything. After all, they're famous.