Tom Cruise

"Katie, baby, can we have thetan two veg for dinner tonight? Can we, can we, pleeeeeease?

"Katie, baby, can we have thetan two veg for dinner tonight? Can we, can we, pleeeeeease?"

 

Once upon a time, in yesteryore, many teenage girls swooned and drooled big puddles of drool because this hot new actor Tom Cruise had become a huge star due to appearing in lots of lovely Hollywood movies. Even the teenage boys liked him a bit, because Top Gun was a manly GRRR of a film where Tom flew big scary aeroplanes and was a hero, totally nonplussed by the presence of bogies at four o’clock.

Personally, I get pretty plussed by the prescence of bogies at any o’clock and have to blow or wipe, but maybe I’m just faddy like that. In BabyMinx’s case, a bogie at any o’clock is just a delightful minature snack, in the same way that bathwater is the most refreshing beverage in the whole world, but I am sure (or at least hope) she will grow out of that particular way of thinking.

Anyhoo. Those little girls, and boys, grew up. They grew and they grew. Unlike our hero, who had stopped growing when he was kneehigh to a grasshopper and probably would have needed paint can stilts or built up shoes to see over the top of the grasshopper at all. Our hero, was in fact, what the clansfolk of my paternal homeland would refer to as “wee”. Terribly handsome, but incredibly “wee”.

He never really floated my boat, it has to be said, mostly because I was already taller than him by the time I was 5 – but some of my school chums thought he was the bee’s knees – or at least was able to lick the bee’s knees, never quite sure of which. I went off Nik Kershaw when I was 11 for the same reason, when the Smash Hits Annual (or that other magazine that was a bit like Smash Hits but’s name escapes me – but not Look In) posted a celebrity height chart, with various celebrities in silhouette with their various heights in a police line up stylee, and poor old Nik Kershaw was languishing down the short end with Prince.

I would have probably married him up until that point but those dreams were cruelly and irrevocably shattered, and at CHRISTMAS of all times. Still, his greatest hits album still gets the occasional play for a quick trip down halcyon day memory lane. If anyone can explain to me what the feck he was going on about in “The Riddle” please do let me know, I’ve always wondered. It’s like Dali in 45rpm vinyl form.

Anyway, what we teens standing knee deep in lakes of our own friends saliva were unaware of at that time was just quite how barking Tiny Tom would end up appearing to become over time. Much as I would like to spend several paragraphs waxing lyrical about the whole Scientology thing, Im really not that versed in it, and I quite like my kneecaps and I cant afford any major court cases. Tom Thumb likes the lawsuits, it seems, so I do have to be careful to remain entirely factual (which of course stating that hes about 2 inches tall completely complies with.)

I would not DREAM of suggesting that the whole Scientology thing is an elitist cult where only the rich can reach the highest echalons of it’s dizzy peak of excellence. Although the thought of Tombo reaching the dizzy peak of ANYTHING without some very grippy shoes or without teetering on the shoulders of a tower made mainly of members of the LA Lakers is alien to me anyway (ha, alien, see what I did there?) But apparently, he’s pretty high up the whole Scientology – (I can’t think of the word that I need to accurately describe such a structure, and I am not sure they would find the words I am coming up with appropriate – Jelly, Compost Heap, Dung Pile,) but THING, anyway.

But I can say, that I found the whole nonsensical public displays of tiny bouncing with glee after pulling Katie “Joey” Holmes and getting her knocked up quite nauseating, hopefully without fear of being beamed up to a waiting space ship to have my entrails removed via my nose. There is nothing more lovely and beautiful than two people who have fallen in love, it is sweet, it is joyous, it is a thing of great treasure. And then there’s Tom Cruise bouncing around on Oprah’s sofa like a two year old that just discovered that if you put a kitten in the toilet, it makes this GREAT squeaking noise.

So, here he is. On the list. If I suddenly disappear, and then come back and start extolling the joys of Thetanism and telling you that Old Ron L Hubbard went to the cupboard to slip Poor Tommy a bone – firstly, have me shot, and secondly, know where I have been. If I don’t turn back up, you know who to blame.

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3 Responses to “Tom Cruise”

  1. gentreau Says:

    How long has that white van been parked across the road ….. ??

  2. Hmmm… There was a lot of talk re: his jaffa’ness, hence the adoption of his two ‘invisible’ children. I believe that Michael Jackson is the TRUE father of Suri ! Demand a DNA test peeps!

    I have never found this guy sexy, talented or vaguely interesting. That blonde one in Top Gun activated my pistons!

  3. MrsMinxington Says:

    Val Kilmer???

    He’s a little disappointing these days sadly…

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