Punky Pregnant With Punk'd Producer's Progeny

I’m up in Syracuse, without much to report at the moment, but felt compelled to write, just because I saw a headline tonight that I can’t imagine I ever thought I would see. It just seems weird to see those words in print: Punky Brewster's Pregnant.

This led to other such random thoughts, like, does it qualify as ironic that Punky had breast-reduction surgery, and now they’re just gonna get bigger again? Or, is it weird that she was Punky and her husband is a producer of "Punk'd"?

And whatever happened to Brandon the Dog? Think he’s still alive?

If he’s not, I only hope there’s a separate heaven that animals go to, and within that animal heaven is yet another separate heaven for celebrity animals. You know, somewhere that Brandon, Spuds McKenzie and Morris the Cat can all hang out and swap stories with the likes of real old-schoolers like Toto and Lassie.

Ooh, and that ferret from Kindergarten Cop should get in, too. I know that was really his only starring role, but he did bite that ponytailed villain right in the jugular. That’s got to count for something. I say put him in celebrity animal heaven.

Okay, and just for fun, let’s say cartoon animals were allowed in.

And from that, a quick hypothetical: you’re the St. Peter of celebrity animal (and cartoon animal) heaven, and Dave Seville kills himself and all three of the Chipmunks in a tragic murder-suicide. But you only have room for one of the Chipmunks. Which do you let into heaven?

My vote, personally, goes to Theodore. He was sweet and innocent. And if nothing else, he gets it by process of elimination. I mean, Alvin was an out-and-out a-hole, no matter how you slice it. And I felt like Simon was sort of a wannabe goody-goody with a latent dark side. Given the opportunity, he would have whipped up some scientific way to make Alvin "disappear" so he could be the alpha-chipmunk.

What did Theodore ever do that was bad? I’ll tell you what he didn’t do. He didn’t knock up Punky Brewster.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is what happens when I’m left unattended in a hotel in Syracuse when it’s snowing out and I have nothing better to do. Peace out.