Well, That Was Fast

A photo from 40 years ago? So much courage.

Actor, director, football star and all-around legendary guy Burt Reynolds has been gone less than a week and already attention-starved, narcissistic women are attacking this great man, our fallen idol.

In her soon to be released paperweight book, failed actress and suspected reiki practitioner Sally Field spends several chapters trashing her former lover and some time co-star.

This is a woman that Burt called “the love of his life” and deeply regretted parting ways with. In fact, he had pretty much nothing but great things to say about her everytime anyone asked.

Field, last seen in the divorcee book-club fantasy Hello, My Name Is Doris, recently spoke about Reynolds in a new interview with the failing New York Times, describing her time with him as:

“confusing and complicated”

Without reading any further let me translate that for you into English:

“We had a lot of fun, he was great in bed but he made me feel bad because I did bad things. Plus he never did what I told him to do.”

How’s my Wahmyn, ladies? Pretty spot on, huh?

If you think I’m being harsh here consider how she began the interview by explaining she lacked the self-confidence to write a book because (a) no one would want to read about her and (b):

“I didn’t know I had a voice”

This is pure Mommy Blog, fake-humble nonsense meant to increase the coveted Relatability part of her Q-Score.

She’s essentially a demi-god who’s won practically every award in her profession but somehow no one knows who she is and her editor didn’t give her a massive advance, detailed sales projections and at least one ghostwriter.

And, oh my… her “voice”. See, it took courage to write this doorstop over the last six years. Real Omaha Beach stuff there.

What’s next? Is Ms. Fields going to tell us the book is her “greatest accomplishment”?

We all know this is the greatest thing Ms. Fields has ever done. Have you tried the Carmel Crackle?

Speaking Her Truth

So now you know where she is coming from let’s get into some of the horrendous lies this woman told about the first inductee into the Film Goblin Hall of Fame.

She characterizes Mr. Reynolds in the book as swaggering and charismatic, and their connection as immediate and intense.

Well, no shit

She also described the leading rusher in Florida State history as:

…Controlling of her, only able to accept certain aspects of her life and personality while uninterested in or disapproving of others.

Haha! I called it. We all know what “certain aspects of her life and personality” means. I don’t think it means throwing pottery or a love of corny knock-knock jokes, does it?

Is controlling an out-of-control, histrionic attention-hound really such a bad thing?

The literature says “No”

Actually, most of what she says seems pretty believable so far. Go, Bandit!

But, Wait! She Not Done!

Ms. Fields — single for the last 25 years ? — claims that during the filming of Smokey And The Bandit, Burt used Percodan, Valium and barbiturates. Again — no shit. Insert nagging-induced migraine joke.

She also goes on to write that she tried to get him into therapy for his stress and anxiety but Reynolds called it:

“self-delusional poppycock”

Since watching Sharky’s Machine I really didn’t know it was possible to love or respect Burt Reynolds anymore, but after dropping that truth bomb he’s moving into levels of Hardstyle that shouldn’t even be possible.

Of course, therapy isn’t for managing stress and anxiety.

That’s what intense physical exercise is for.

Therapy is for complaining about your problems and talking through your decisions because none of your friends want to hear about that shit.

I highly recommend it.

Imagine My Shark

I’m sure it’s a revelation that Look-At-Me Sally has some serious daddy issues, but apparently she was trying to work things out with her stepfather the whole time:

“I was somehow exorcising something that needed to be exorcised,” she told me. “I was trying to make it work this time.”

Nice. Good to know that our whole relationship was really about someone else. How fucking amazingly self-centered. Did they teach you that in therapy, Sally?

I may have to recalculate this whole therapy thing. Very, very carefully.

Don’t forget to adjust your shield this time, dummy

Despicable She

In a final parting shot at our hero, this free gift goes on to trash him while “expressing relief” that The Bandit would never read her memoir or learn what she wrote about him.

“This would hurt him,” she said. “I felt glad that he wasn’t going to read it, he wasn’t going to be asked about it, and he wasn’t going to have to defend himself or lash out, which he probably would have. I did not want to hurt him any further.”

Then why did you write it, laydee?

Does this article qualify as an “attack on social media”? Is this “harassment”?

See, This Is All A Good Thing!

She NEEDS to tell the world about all of her salacious and nasty dark projections that her lover helped her play out. This is how narcissists justify their behavior.

They’re DOING YOU A FAVOR! Who CARES if it ruins his reputation and he has no way to reply to anything she has to say.

Who CARES if his children and family have to live with the impact and ramifications of whatever nastiness she wants to broadcast to the world?!

After all, she is lucid and stable and reliable and a woman who has HER STORY, and would NEVER distort the truth or publish anything self-serving or attention-getting, as in creating and announcing her own victim narrative to sell a new book!

Credit for that last diatribe goes to comment goddess Maggy MGill, who seems like a pretty groovy gal. Tell them about themselves, Maggy!

Remember, the Eagle flies alone

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