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The more you learn about Janeane Garofalo, the more you understand her dementia.  A walking contradiction, Garofalo has said,

We’re (women) our own worst enemies a lot of the time; but I still blame men.”

A better representative of the NOW Generation could not exist.

If left to the confines of Liberalia—a city in Utopia— Garofalo’s mental disorder would make her just another functional zombie inhabiting the Land of Fruits and Nuts.  However, as with all Hollyweirdos when their stars fade, they escape the nuthouse to roam amongst the sane.

They wonder why we stare at them as they muddle along mumbling to themselves, eventually pulling their hands out of their pants to smell their fingers. How crazy is Garofalo?

Check it:  Garofalo had a breast reduction from a C-cup to a B-cup, saying “It was the best thing.”

Who does this?  It’s not like she had two G-sized cantalopes giving her back problems.  Yet Garofalo’s rationale for the reduction was,

I knew that being a small person with big boobs standing in front of an audience was not going to be easy. It would be really hard to get people to pay attention to me without mocking me.”[1]

I didn’t realize there was a conspiracy against women comedians doing stand-up with C-cup breasts. God forbid patrons were mesmerized by those ginormous size C super melons. Garofalo should have been mocked for diverting people’s attention from her breasts to her act!  Garofalo appeared drunk on stage most of the time, sounding morbid, if not downright suicidal.

In interviews in 2003, Garofalo admitted “she had overcome a sobriety problem with alcohol.” If you were Janeane Garofalo, would you want to deal with yourself sober?

Garofalo is a self-described “dark” personality. She said in an interview[2],

I guess I just prefer to see the dark side of things. The glass is always half-empty. And cracked. And I just cut my lip on it. And chipped a tooth.”

I’m no shrink, however I think I have found the root of Garofalo’s obvious self-hatred.

Believe it or not, Garofalo was offered the role of Monica on Friends in 1994, but turned down it down. Garofalo was next offered role of Dorothy Boyd in Jerry Maguire (1996) by Cameron Crowe if she could lose weight.  She lost the weight only to learned that Renée Zellweger had won the part, a role that launched Zellweger’s career.

Isn’t it ironic that in Hollywood, one of the only places where discrimination is openly practiced made Garofalo get off her chubby butt to get thin, only to deny her the role of a lifetime once she did it?

Things went from bad to worse for Garofalo, and as you might suspect her snafu was self-inflicted, when in 1996 Garofalo turned down the role of Gale Weathers in the movie Scream (1996/I), in order to make Sweethearts (1997). Courteney Cox got the Scream role and Scream ultimately grossed more than $100 million. Sweethearts on the other hand went straight to video.

Is it any wonder Garofalo named her production company “I Hate Myself Productions.” This may also explain why Garofalo spends so much time “helping” black people, as she represents such a positive role model. I suggest Garofalo consider renaming her company, “I Wish I Were Black So I Could Shoot Myself Productions.”

Garofalo married her boyfriend Robert Cohen in 1992 at a Las Vegas drive-in chapel as a joke.[3] Though the couple is still technically married, their relationship has ended, and supposedly so did her fascination with the manlier sex.

If you Google “Janeane Garofalo Gay” you’ll get over 500,000 hits asking the question, “Is she or isn’t she?” I believe Garofalo remains conflicted in this area, but I want to move into her work ethic and save myself from any more thoughts of Garofalo’s sex life.

We get some insight into Garofalo’s work ethnic as she discussed her role in Reality Bites in a 2007 interview:[4]

“That was my first experience with a studio film. I didn’t understand what was going to happen, or why the hours were so long. I know Ben [Stiller] was not thrilled with me there. He also didn’t like my attitude during rehearsal, because I hate to rehearse. He sort of fired me, but luckily I was rehired because Winona [Ryder] stepped in on my behalf. Let’s put it this way: I don’t have a good work ethic.”

Sounds like a Hollyweird movie script: Lazy alcoholic saved by the anorexic kleptomaniac? Working title, “The Truth about Drunks and Thieves,” perhaps? How about this for real life script pitch:  “Lazy Hollyweirdo ‘helps’ black presidents and wannabe black presidents, because she thinks she’s better than them?”

In discussing her career—term used loosely—in film in 2007, Garofalo opines:[5]

I don’t think Hollywood was trying to do anything with me. In fact, they lost interest pretty quick. I think I got lucky, briefly, in the ’90s, and it just so happened that those movies were the opportunities that came my way. Then it just kind of stopped.

“Then it just kind of stopped?!” It obviously had nothing to do with Garofalo’s dreadful work ethic, her lack of talent, or her raging alcoholism. No, the job offers just stopped!

Garofalo goes on to say:

You get pigeonholed if you don’t look a certain way. I don’t know what happened, really. I think I got older and drank too much. Then I got sober and worked at Air America for two years. Now I don’t know what’s gonna happen next.

Hollywood has no use for a Liberal Lesbian lass with 15 tattoos? The sobering reality. Washed up from Hollywood, left with nothing but the voices in her head.

We all know what happened next.

Garofalo targeted that famous acerbic wit on Conservatives in an effort to help the black president, and ultimately black people. Garofalo is the “Protector of the Lowly Negro,” or at least she played one in a movie once.

“Our country is founded on a sham,” informs Garofalo.  “…our forefathers were slave-owning rich white guys who wanted it their way. So when I see the American flag, I go, ‘Oh my God, you’re insulting me.’ That you can have a gay parade on Christopher Street in New York, with naked men and women on a float cheering, ‘We’re here, we’re queer!’ — that’s what makes my heart swell. Not the flag, but a gay naked man or woman burning the flag. I get choked up with pride.”[6]

Garofalo doesn’t know who she is and she is clearly disturbed.  It’s no wonder she is delusional enough to believe she is better than black people. As the saying goes, “Misery loves company.” And so does Garofalo: The Hollyweirdo Protector of Lowly Negroes.

That’s my rant!

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