november 21. 2003 *
Ju st out, 57
HUMOR
▼..............
Secrets and Liza
T
he time has come to break the silence. For
nearly a year and a halt I’ve held my
tongue, allowing others to indulge in
rumor and innuendo while I’ve patiently
sat hy, refusing to contribute to the mud-
slinging and character assassination, hut I
simply can’t hold it in any longer.
I must write about Liza and David.
Like many of you, I was saddened when the
pair announced that their fairy tale romance
had ended; it’s always sad when marriages to
fairies fail. What’s more, the split came the
very same week Floyd and 1 eloped to Canada.
I’m st> glad I didn’t know about it beforehand
or 1 might have questioned the entire institu
tion of marriage.
You may recall that, despite not having
been invited to the wedding (or even knowing
the bride or groom), Floyd and I forked over 80
bucks for a sterling silver Elsa Peretti butter
spreader from Liza’s bridal registry at
Tiffany.com. As such, i feel that gives me a cer
tain credibility in speaking frankly about the
marriage and upcoming divorce.
Most importantly, there’s the issue of who
gets custody of the butter spreader. This is an
easy one. I mean, it’s not like I would have
Knight a gift for David Gest if he’d married
someone else— say, Michael Jackson. No, that
butter spreader was meant for Liza. What’s
more, call me old-fashioned, but I believe cut
lery does best when it remains with the mother.
Several readers have written suggesting Liza
return the butter spreader to me, but they fail
to understand that with Liza now facing a
$10 million lawsuit from the unwanted Gest,
chances are the gifts are already hocked.
Then there are the affidavits.
Gest claims he is a victim of domestic
The Minnelli-Acito connection
THE GOSPEL
ACCORDING
TO MARC
b y M arc Acito
abuse, stating that drinking vodka gave Liza
"almost superhuman strength” and that she
threw a hotel lamp at him.
Personally, I find this hard to believe. For
starters, in every hotel I’ve ever stayed at, the
lamps are Kilted to the tables. Secondly, every
one knows that vodka doesn’t give you super
human strength. Gin, yes, but vodka— never.
Liza responded with a brief statement, say
ing: “ I hoped very much that the end of my
marriage would he handled with mutual respect
and dignity.”
I, for one, am glad to see she’s taking the
high road. This marriage deserves to end with
the same amount of dignity with which it
began.
However, Liza did go on to describe Gest as
being “cruel and inhuman.” Now I can’t speak
for the cniel part, but one kxik at Gest’s Mr.
Potato Head face, and I’d have to say she’s
pretty accurate about the inhuman part. The
guy looks like the great and powerful Oz,
which might lx- what attracted her to him in
the first place.
G est says he’s suffering from “severe, un
relenting headaches"
and “scalp tender
ness,” though with
all the Botox he
must use it’s a
wonder the man
feels anything at
all. It would kike a
hotel lamp to crack
that egg.
t’s strange how we
come to care tor
celebrities we don’t
even know. The tact is, I
find that I’m actually worried
about Liza’s health and career
and secretly hope that the whole
domestic abuse thing is simply a
public relations ploy to position her
as the next female action star. C an ’t
you just see Liza as an ass-kicking,
lamp-throwing superheroine?
They can call her Vodka Woman.
I’ve long wondered why I care
so much aKuit what happens to
Liz;», but all the buzz about The Boy
from Oz — the Broadway musical bio of
Liza’s first husband, Peter Allen— finally
provided me with an answer.
You see, looking at photos of the total
ly edible Hugh Jackman camping it up as
the over-the-top gay Aussie entertainer
V H S a n d DVD
R e n ta l a a n d S a le A
/A
Op
to meeting his talented Aunt
Loma. Write him at
nuirc@rruircaato.com
le /FD Club P o rtla n d
W A (& 1
★
2 Great Location*!
Lw
M arc : A u to also Zooks forward
The M o s t Men
The M o s t Times
The M o s t Popular
A ll R en talA 5 day*!
k
confirmed to me something I’ve long suspected
but never dared say:
1 am the secret love child of Liza Minnelli
and Peter Allen.
There is simply no other explanation. The
effervescent grin, the sparkling talent,
the heartfelt insincerity, the affection
for prescription medications— there’s
not a doubt in my mind that l am
their spawn.
My adoptive parents deny it, of
course, insisting that I descended from
a long line of Portuguese
fishermen and Italian
pushcart vendors, but,
growing up in subur
ban New Jersey as a
young gayling with a
Judy Garland fixation, I
knew in my heart that 1
belonged over the rainh>w.
In his affidavit Gest
claimed that when a security
guard tried to help Liza by
reminding her he was her friend,
Liza stated, “I have no friends."
It’s not true, Liza. And now that
you’re finally out of that creep’s
controlling clutches, you and
I are finally free to reunite.
Remember— 1’tn not just
your friend, I’m family.
And that, my friends, is T ie Gospel
According to Marc J H
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