Don't you just hate it when Hollywood stars start acting like their moralistic poop doesn't stink? You know, like the Midwestern evangelical-types hating on all things gay when they're having drugged-out sex themselves with masseurs and restroom johns?
How sad that Mooney Van Dangle, megasuccessful movie star, has now added his name to this sorryass roster of judgers who live in glass houses...
Mooney, who's been very adept at hiding his private life—which consists of randy things Seymour Plow-Me-More would be most impressed by—has recently been in the news for coldly condemning a few of his relatives, one in particular for her arguably skanky behavior. Well, if certain sex clubs' walls could talk!
Typically, in Hollywood/civilian battles past, the poor relation has been treated badly by the press because she's (a) not famous and (b) a woman. Never a good combo in quick-to-judge America. After all, Mooney is not only very wealthy, professionally celebrated and quite well-known, he's a man! So, he must be the one who's right in this battle of headlines, right?
Wrong.
Just put it this way: If the gullible readers gobbling up these supposedly lurid accusations (regarding the woman's activities) had any idea what her blood-related detractor was up to, they'd certainly see there's another side to this unfortunately morally played-out story.
Like, maybe those who live to expose, strut and display their family jewels—and get it on with guys in public places (jeez, what has Seymour started, already, a damn testosterone trend, or what?)—shouldn't be throwing sanctimonious stones?
Let's be clear, we don't have a problem with what either fighting side's up to here—we don't judge, whatever floats somebody's hoochy boat—that's up to them. But when one of the castigators starts acting like he doesn't know his way around the salacious sides of life, well, that's just what the Awful Truth is for.
And It Ain't: Kevin Costner, John Travolta, John Mayer