Anne Heche has one of those names that just swirl around your mouth before dribbling out of the mouth and onto the chin in a singular glob of goodness. Claim to fame, well she slept with Ellen. Yeah the Ellen, the charming yet good natured lesbian hostess of a popular television talk show, see Rosie for further example. Anyway, Anne and Ellen hooked up and became the apple in the eye of the lesbian community. For a while, they seemed happy. Anne attempted a few crappy movies and the world relished in the happiness. We were happy, I mean if these to crazy cats could get together for the occasional romp then maybe there was hope for the rest of us. Then, before you could say "attention whore," it was over. The gay community stood stunned and then realized they didn't care about celebrities any more then the rest of us. Anne wasn't done though, she decided to hook up with a man and have a baby. Well, good for her I suppose. I still didn't care. The whole story it seems peaks through a 13 year period in which Anne slipped slowly into a pit of insanity from which there was only one way out. Tell an insane story no one would believe in. I smell aliens.

In 1995, Anne began hearing voices. Where most of the time inner voices are charming good natured voices that only require you to shed just a smidgen of virgin blood in order to call forth a giant sweater shooting monster named Sloth, her voices were different. Anne's middle name is Celeste, and as ecstasy-induced chances would have it, her voices told her that her that she was an avatar from the fourth dimension named Celestia and it was her destiny to give birth to the messiah somewhere in the 21st century. I support this completely. One night, under the instruction of God himself, Anne took some ecstasy and drove into the desert. Stop, right there for a moment. Ecstasy, for those of you who have no idea on how to party, is a drug. God told her to take drugs, and that's the best message from God ever. Seriously, I'd believe in something that came down and told me to do drugs. I mean, can you say no to that? Hyped on her drug choice of God, Anne prepared herself for the trip back to the Fourth Dimension. Frank was going home. He was going home. After the final musical number, Anne found herself wandering about the outskirts of a random ranch babbling about a spaceship while wearing a sports bra and boxers. That's just plain chocolate nutty.

Is Ellen that bad in the bed? I mean really. She seems a charming free spirit who'd likely spend the night cuddled under the blankets while she stroke your hair humming adorable compliments while providing the occasional peck on the shoulder. It seems so majestically sweet. Anyway, after her incident in the desert, Anne went straight literally and her career sank faster then the box office returns for Six Days and Seven Nights. Ellen in the meantime started her daily talk show and thus the circle of life is complete. The sad part of this story is that various right wing psychos devoid of any grasp on reality decided to point out that Anne transformation from lesbian came at the same time she discovered her mental illness. Do the math. Lesbian's are crazy. I know that makes no sense, but try to forgive them. Remember, God told her to get the drugs. Praise to Jesus.

All I know is that when my spaceship arrives I know someone who's not getting a ride. I'm looking at you Anne. That's what you get for breaking Ellen's heart, no spaceship for you.

Great Words From Great Americans
"Pirates? As in 'arrrgh'?"