Cranky Lesbian

Look what the homosexuals have done to me!

Tag: Memoirs

Beloved Superstar Loni Anderson

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On February 5, 2022

In Books

Loni Anderson poses belovedly on the cover of her memoir.

You knew it was only a matter of time before I examined some Loni Anderson TV movie content here. It’s coming eventually and in the meantime I’m consulting her autobiography for relevant information about her non-WKRP work. Having tackled this very silly book several years ago (don’t ask), I hadn’t anticipated a full rereading of it. But could you resist this dust jacket?

She’s not only a superstar, she’s one of America’s most respected women.

My clearest memories of My Life in High Heels — the acrimonious Burt Reynolds split, a steamy night with John Gavin — aren’t safe for Sunday school. But perhaps there are other lessons I could learn from one of America’s most respected women, beloved superstar Loni Anderson. There’s only one way to find out.

RELATED: If your interest was piqued by the Hedy Lamarr book in the background, here’s an old post about it.

Inside Rielle Hunter’s Illicit Love Affair with Salad

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On August 25, 2014

In Books

Ahem: “John Edwards, Salad, and Me.”

If you were unfortunate enough to read Rielle Hunter’s What Really Happened: John Edwards, Our Daughter, and Me (I didn’t have much choice; some things in life are beyond our control), the first thing you probably noticed is that she’s an absolute idiot. The second is that she loves salad.

With each new chapter of this slender — but not slender enough — volume, it seems she’s traveling to yet another dreary hotel for an assignation with Edwards. (She calls him “Johnny” almost as relentlessly as she eats salad, for “Johnny” is what’s on his birth certificate and thus most representative of his true self. If you search the Kindle edition of her book for “Johnny,” the device will pant and wheeze before the results exceed 500 and it stops counting.) He is so busy with campaign commitments and marital spats that a bored Hunter has no choice but to console herself with salad. Lots of salad.

Let’s stroll with her down a lettuce-strewn memory lane, shall we, and revisit these tender scenes from her past.

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