The End of the Federwang

The Lovely Mrs. G. says that sometimes I can be a shallow, cruel, and needlessly vindictive little man. And she may be right.

For the past several months I have taken personal glee in my wishes and hopes and dreams that Kevin Federline would fall flat on his face. I very openly and publicly have prayed that K-Fed’s album would bomb, that he’d end up as a human punchline, and that he’d eventually have to go and crawl back into the scum pond he came from, where we’d never have to hear from him again.

Well, it looks like the Blue Fairy granted my wish. Federwang’s “acting” on a recent episode of CSI was openly mocked. His album has been thoroughly trashed. His concert tour is the biggest bomb this side of Ishtar. And now his trailer park mate has up and left his sorry ass.

Heh, heh.

See, that was awfully petty of me. To laugh at someone else’s misfortune? Bad karma, Tommy. Bad karma!

As Mrs. G. says, I don’t know him personally. He’s never done anything to me. Hence, I should have no reason to despise him.

And yet I still do. I really, really, really dislike Federwang and everything his smug little smile stands for. And for that, I do take a sick-yet-pleasurable glee in seeing him crash to Earth.

You see, I am indeed a bad, bad, person.

Still, if anyone deserves it, it’s this no-talent tool. The only thing I’ve seen him be good at is impregnating women, and unless you’re a racehorse or are sporting a 180 I.Q. (which I’m sure K-Fed isn’t either), it’s really not a marketable skill.

Yet we’ve been subjected to 2 years of this idiot’s antics in every magazine, every online pop Web site, and even here on this beloved-yet-snarky blog. We know all about his fondness for ditzy blondes, his horrendous singing abilities, and his apparent dislike for everyday things such as manners, class, razor blades, bathing, and acting his way out of a Cheeto bag.

So now with a little luck Mr. F. will be shuffled off to obscurity, right next to Kato Kaelin, Screech, and Liz Taylor’s 8th husband. He’ll become a Trivial Pursuit question, and will have to spend the rest of his days writing “I shouldn’t have been such a wanker” on the blackboard over and over again.

Will that make me happy? Will that bring me personal joy? Will it make me a better person? Probably not.

Still, it was fun while it lasted...