I keep seeing headlines that make me go, "Ewwww, ick." They're the ones about how Ryan O'Neal mistakenly hit on his daughter during Farrah Fawcett's funeral.
This is just oogey on multiple levels.
One, how old is Ryan O'Neal? How unfamous? How non-popular? How early-1980s? The man is a Trivial Pursuit answer. He has very little significance in today's pop culture. Plus, he's sort of puffy and generally unattractive. Did he really think if he flirted with some young woman, at a funeral, after he'd just put down the coffin he'd been carrying as a pall bearer, that she'd be all hot and jazzed to jump his osteoarthritic bones?
Back up just a bit. That woman he flirted with was young enough to be his daughter. Oh. Wait. It WAS his daughter, Tatum! I know they do things different out there in Hollywood, but incest tends to be frowned upon in most regions of the United States. Then he explains it away by saying he hadn't seen her in a while. If you haven't seen your daughter in a long enough time that you don't recognize her and try to get it on with her, you've got bigger problems than even your publicist, your therapist, your drug dealer, and your bookie thought.
Lastly, he hit on his daughter at the FUNERAL of the woman he claims to have loved more than all others. He says he was grieving, sorrowful, claims he will never be the same again. And then 15 minutes after he sends her to the great beyond, he's picking up a hot chick. Who calls him Daddy.
Just one more question: If you are a washed-up, beyond-middle-age former actor and accidentally try to do your daughter at your ex's funeral, why would you ADMIT to it? In fact, why would you open your mouth and flap your gums to the press, yammering on about how you did this ridiculous thing?
I shudder. I need a nice, soapy shower. Because after writing this, I feel slimy.