Curse You, Calculating Media Manipulators!

I've never been shy about my disdain for the publicity-hungry Simpson family. Or my lack of excitement over the fact that younger sister Ashlee started dating Fall Out Boy's Pete Wentz, got pregnant, and then got married. Now my fears for their child have been confirmed: in their first act as parents, they named their son Bronx Mowgli.

I don't actually have anything against the name Bronx -- I'm more upset by the reasoning that I'm positive went into their choice of baby names. I'm annoyed that:
1) They most likely thought it would be very "Brangelina" of them to have a son whose name ends with the letter 'x.'
2) They also probably figured that they could kill two birds with one stone and blatantly imitate the Beckhams as well, who named their oldest boy Brooklyn. I can just picture Ashlee and Pete's brainstorming session: "I don't know, I think Queens or Staten Island might seem too out-there..."
3) A source told UsWeekly that the couple has never even been to the Bronx.
4) Wentz commented that he thought the name would be appropriate for "either a rock star or a senator."

God help us all if a Simpson offspring ends up having any part in running this country!

OK, enough about Bronx, because it's the baby's middle name -- Mowgli -- that absolutely kills me. My fond memories of the Disney classic The Jungle Book are forever ruined! I can never again sing along to "The Bare Necessities" or "I Wanna Be Like You" without thinking of creepy Grandpa Joe. Why, God, whhhhyyyyyy?

To make matters worse, a few days after the Simpson/Wentz baby made his debut, I sorted through my mail pile and saw Heidi, Spencer and news of their elopement (Is that a word? No? I don't care, I'm too angry to think straight!) staring back at me. If these two procreate, I am moving to the other side of the globe. Please, please hold me to it.

For now, however, I'm trying to calm down about the Speidi marriage news because it dawned on me that it might just be a publicity stunt (since everything else they do is). Remember when Whitney Houston was accused of smoking crack and she demanded that somebody prove it with "the receipts?" That drama came back to me last night because I realized that so far, there's actually been no proof that these two idiots from The Hills actually tied the knot. No one was there to witness it... yet they magically had a ton of pictures from their ceremony preparation in UsWeekly... before Heidi even told her own mother the news? Something fishy's going on.

And so, in order for me to believe that this union is for real (not that I should even care), I'm following Whitney's lead and demanding the couple to "show me the receipts!"

- e