I’m trying not to get excited about the new James Bond film. Not because I want to appear cool and blasé, but because the movie won’t be shown in the Congo until well into 2013. A prematurely excited gorilla is an undesirable phenomenon in a finely tuned ecosystem. It puts the other gorillas on edge, which can lead to bushes being abused and uprooted.
Longstanding readers of this blog will know that Danny Craig is one of my protégés. He offered to send me a pirate DVD of the movie, but I declined his generous offer:
“You mustn’t violate the copyright just to curry favour with me, Danny,” I said. “I’ll be satisfied with a lock of Naomie Harris’s pubic hair.”
I was joking, of course. A big hairy ape like me has no interest in human tufts.
Film reviewers have been counting the scenes in which Danny takes off his shirt. When a movie magazine asked him whether he minded displaying his chest like a hunk of meat, his response was phlegmatic:
“I don't care how many times I have to do it,” he said, adding: “It's going to be harder and harder the older I get.”
Sad but true. Those perfectly-toned pecs will eventually morph into man boobs, making Danny look like a transvestite on hormone therapy. I advised him to delay the inevitable by stimulating his chest muscles with electric shocks, but unfortunately he’s too squeamish. Only real secret agents can bear having electrodes attached to their bosoms.
The manager of the safari camp is always pestering me with his ideas for the Bond movies. I think he hopes I’ll pass them on to Danny. His latest brainwave is that James Bond should have a nubile sister who appears in the films:
“There ought to be a woman you can fantasize about without having to compete with 007,” he explained.
“Wouldn’t Bond get annoyed if someone shagged his sister?” I asked.
“Not unless he was a total hypocrite,” said the manager. “And besides, why would his sister give a damn about what he thought? She’d be a strong enough character to sleep with anyone she fancied and tell her brother to butt out.”
He might be on to something, but who would be suitable for the part? Obviously, she’d have to be a big name in her own right. Jessica Bond isn’t a role for an aspiring starlet, no matter how impressive her vital statistics. After gently racking my brains, I thought of Christina Aguilera, who has recently won acclaim for her ability to function without knickers:
“I don’t like wearing underwear,” she said on a chat show. “I like to be as free as possible at all times. It’s just who I am. It’s empowering. It’s pussy power!”
How fitting it would be for a fearless commando like James Bond to have a sister who fearlessly goes commando herself. Pussy power is also perfect for the part. I’d be tempted to give Christina the role without an audition and let the director worry about her acting skills.
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