Ass the Crow Plies...

I generally consider myself to be on the side of environmental thoughtfulness (but not necessarily on the side of the "-ists"). I recycle and try to implore others to do so; I don't drive a car at all (though, with no other choice, I will ride in them) and try to get others to try mass transit; I am against the clearing of the rainforests and all that rot. And I believe that celebrities, when thought is reasoned and cool, can be a boon to bringing the environmental message overall to the masses.

And then, musician Sheryl Crow, in conjunction with the White House Correspondent's Dinner where she and her cohort Laurie David found themselves squared off against Grandmaster Weasel Karl Rove over environmental concerns, let fly with this maxim regarding the use of toilet paper: "only one square per restroom visit, except, of course, on those pesky occasions where two or three could be required."

One square per restroom visit?!! Is Crow aware of what comes out of the backside of people? If she is, does she live in some sort of Neverland, where she never -- ever, ever! -- has to wipe back there because she has a personal assistant who takes care of this for her, and when Sheryl asks/suggests/orders, "I sure hope you didn't use more than one square?", her toady bows low, kisses Sheryl's sexy, sexy feet and, because he/she doesn't want to lose their job, says "Why, no, of course not! Only one square was required, my lady!" It's also likely that Ms. Crow has a series of bidets at her disposal, so the toady would then whisk her off for a generous sprinkling of the well-traveled Crow estate, and all would end up most beauteous and spring fresh in the Land of Sheryl Crow's Anus.

Of course, Sheryl is, no pun intended, filthy rich, so maybe when she says "one square", she's not telling us that the "one square" of toilet paper that she is using is as thick as a flying chunk of asphalt off the 57. Maybe she means "one square foot" or "yard". I don't know if she has ever bought toilet paper in a store, but it's expensive, especially if you want any sort that doesn't fall apart on you like a Bush excuse for going to war. For "poor people's" toilet paper to even approach the consistency of the toilet paper in the Golden Dream of Sheryl Crow, you have to wind the stuff around your hand like a cozy mitten, and even then, there is the very real chance of breakage mid-wipe.

As recently as, say, a couple years ago, I myself wrestled with the notion that it must be awful nice to spend a leisurely afternoon stroll through Crow's backyard. I really don't listen to her music, but like Mariah Carey back in the day, I have spent some time watching her videos with the "Mute" button on, and expended many an idle moment ruminating on the subject. But then this struck me: since Sheryl is a Hollywood-ite, she is likely on some sort of health regimen, which by definition is front-loaded with nutrients and herbs and vitamins and, most importantly, fiber. Lots and lots of fiber. And I am guessing that this regimen keeps her amazingly regular. Keeping regular like that often comes with a price, and if Sheryl is indeed using "only one square per restroom visit, except, of course, on those pesky occasions where two or three could be required", the question begs itself to be asked: What hellish Stygian mass is clinging viselike to Sheryl Crow's undercarriage? What fiendish Lovecraftian monstrosity has slunk out of the depths to spell mankind's doom back there? Does it slowly eat its way through groupie after groupie until eventually all will be consumed? Will this bring new meaning to the term "ass-eating"?

Of course, as of this morning, Crow maintains that her toilet paper comments were nothing but a joke, and not a mindless celebrity rampage at all. Perhaps they were, perhaps they weren't... in a world under the constant maintenance of spin patrols, it's hard to tell anymore. And it really doesn't matter; the initial statement is out there, and much of the FoxNewsNation already believes she's a Fruit Loop, and the rest of us believes she's an overrated musically but hot Fruit Loop. And what it truly obscures is the fact that Crow really didn't get the job done at that White House Dinner. Since she was already getting involved in a confrontation with Karl Rove, she should have taken her toilet paper maxim and applied it to him, only shoving a guitar up the proto-Goebbels' rubbery butt instead. And since it appears it was one of those "pesky situations", two or three could have been required, as well...