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weasel of the week
Lack of Talent Can Take You Far
by The Cranky Media Guy
Megabitch Darva Conger
Darva Conger

Let's recap our story so far, shall we? Fox, the plaid jacket-wearing used car salesman of networks, puts on a show called "Who Wants To Marry A Multi-Millionaire?"  Women from all across this great land of ours apply to be contestants on this televised celebration of the sanctity of the quickie Vegas marriage

Among those in the show's field of 50 is a Clairol blonde nurse named Darva Conger.  Ms. C. makes it to the finals, during which she promises the groom-to-be, Rick Rockwell that if chosen, she will be his friend for life, his lover, his homie, his Sherpa guide and on and on.  She's the Swiss Army Knife of babes!  Rick chooses her as his little wifey-poo.  They are married on camera.

Off they go on their fabulous, all-expenses-paid honeymoon.  Almost immediately, there are rumors of Trouble in Paradise.  Darva no want be married.  Darva good Christian woman who make mistake.  Bwana Cranky say, Darva full of shit!

Is anyone buying this story?  I mean, it ain't like anybody held a gun to her head and made her be on that stupid show.  But, okay, let's be as Christian as Darva would like us to believe she is.  Let's suspend disbelief and accept that she never really thought she would win and only went on the stupid show to get a free couple of days in Vegas.

Here's the problem:  She won't go away!  After she and the Rickster got back from their Haunted Honeymoon, Darva went on her I Just Want To Be Left Alone Tour 2000.  She told her story of wanting to go back to the life she had before to everyone with a camera and a studio audience.  She tried--she really, really did--to go back to nursing, but the hospital canned her ass because she was attracting too much attention.  That's her story, anyway. 

Darva doesn't seem like a stupid woman, but appearing on every TV show other than Teletubbies seems like an odd way to regain one's anonymity.  As does her latest move of appearing in Playboy in her birthday suit.  She's still a good Christian woman, Darva says.  She just needed the money and she's sure that God will forgive her.  Besides, it's Playboy, which means--as we've heard time and time again from women who took dropped their drawers for Hef's rag--that their nudie shots were "tastefully done".  I'm sure God will take that into consideration when He's mulling over this whole thing.

Darva, Darva, Darva.  I'm going to pretend for a moment that I'm a black woman in Jenny Jones' studio audience and give you some advice.  "You need to get over yourself, girlfriend.  You ain't foolin' nobody.  Besides, you ain't all that!"  Okay, I'm done with my out-of-body experience; I'm back to my old self.  Here's what I have to say, Darva:  You want to be anonymous?  Fire your friggin' publicist, for starters.  Then, cut your hair, and dye it black.  Next, apply for work on the breakfast shift at the Burger King in Stafford, VA (a town chosen entirely at random and because I happen to live there).  Trust me, Darva, no one will pay any attention to you.  Until you do that, you will universally recognized as the in-denial media whore you truly are...and as the Weasel of the Week.  Oh, by the way, God called.  He says "tasteful" or not, you're still going to Hell for posing nude.





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