As a historian of the 90210 zip code,
I often wonder who exactly these tabloid "sources" are that ever are ready to contribute their two cents on any given Bennifer, Brangelina, Kardashian-in-law, and/or Jude Law's disappearing hairline. So just as the players gon' play (play, play) and the haters gon' hate (hate, hate), I'm gon' congitate (tate, tate) on who these figures are, so take it or leave it
—no takesy backsies.
Though their tabloid omnipresence outweighs that of the Jen-Dashains et al, the identities of a recurring celebrity clan have yet to be exposed.
That is, until now.
"A source tells The National Enquirer that Justin Bieber is sprouting a fifth nipple!"
"Sources say Jennifer Garner called it quits with Ben Affleck after he was caught raking their Golden gardener, national treasure and comedienne, Betty White!"
“Is Betty White cheating on Affleck with Bieber's fourth nipple?! Details from a source point to one resounding YES!!"
Who are these "sources" and why are they constantly exposing Bel Air’s prized areolae?
Uncapitalized sources report that The Sources live on a ranch in the heart of Newaygo, Michigan. Alan Source (A. Source) raises pet chickens named Chicken and Egg, though it remains unclear as to which was born first after much tiresome debate. His wife Agatha (A. Source by marriage) is the lead Dewey Decimal Strategist at Newaygo’s Public Library.
The couple leads uneventful lives, only emerging on occasion for canasta nights at the church. They know not a single celebrity, once choosing the last tray of creamed corn over meeting Regis Philbin at the other end of a Sizzler buffet. However, the task of optimizing the library’s tabloid section unintentionally introduced Mrs. Source to her niche source of erotica.
She tossed and turned at night following her gig, her fingers yearning to turn the pages of a Miley Cyrus exposé. Alan, meanwhile, was indisposed on their living room couch performing raucous fellatio to his sleep apnea machine. Thus, Aggie decided to hack into the library’s mainframe, re-routing their tabloid subscriptions to her home as a reward of deserved self-stimulation.
Now each week when Agatha's magazines arrive, the Sources order Chinese food to read her “50 Shades of Kim K.” while riding on an MSG high. She files through the Exclusives to discover whether her hypotheses on the inner workings of celebrities and their private lives made a sound somewhere within the Beverly Hills when tipped anonymously through the TMZ Hotline.
When her search comes up dry, which is always, she maniacally conceives of curveballs to pitch out for the next week with Alan as her scribe.
Agatha explodes, waving her chopsticks with no regard to optical sockets nearby.
"What if Khloé Kardashian's biological father is actually Scott Disick?!"
"Unlikely, dear. Say–Wanna go out to the barn to check out the eggs that Chicken laid—?”
“—I mean, LOOK at their asses side-by-side!!”
Mr. Source crumbles his paper fortune, wondering if its inventor ever grew tired of his wife’s unbridled optimism.
Disheartened, she compiles a Farmer's Almanac made from Jaden Smith's tweets and tasks Alan to predict the date of the apocalypse using numerology, aligning the coordinates of Angelina Jolie's adopted children. His pencil wanders to the crossword puzzle to "take a mental break" when the hint for 6 Across ignites the reserve of sodium pent up from his chicken chow mein.
"Not now, I'm counting–"
"Guess who wears Joe Jonas’ promise ring on her toe every now and again when she isn't with Calvin Harris?”
Agatha watches as her husband fills in the blanks: "T-S-W-I-F-T".
“You think?" she exhales in bewilderment.
“Dunno," he replies, wiping the grain of fried rice that sits on the corner of her mouth.
"That’s what ‘The Sources’ are saying.”
Analyze & Discuss:
Which came first: The chicken or the tabloid?