Tori Spelling took a break from her troubled marriage and hiding from landlords and her new Lifetime reality show, Tori Weighs Less Than Her Cat, for a pro forma six day stint in the hospital. The last five times Tori went to the hospital, she came home with either a new baby or some new tits, but this seems to be different. Six days is a pretty long haul of inpatient care. My health plan allows for up to one night hospital stay with a major cranial injury. I get a second night in the case of impalement by medieval Japanese sword soaked with tetanus. But six days would have to require both death and dismemberment, not necessarily in that order. The minute Tori got out, she was back on camera, all fifty-eight remaining pounds of her, discussing how her husband impregnating young groupies in Canadian hotel rooms was stressful to their marriage and her ability to swallow solid food. Also how she needed the Lifetime cameras to keep rolling since neither of them had health insurance and white people can't get Obamacare. I think she's actually wrong about that, but she probably wasn't paying attention to the ten thousand super fun YouTube videos produced by the government. Why people who are not diagnosed catatonics watch this dribble is the real question. Tori's show raked in an audience that dwarfed Lindsay's Fat Oprah Channel announcement that her body rejected her fetus because it wasn't filled with alcohol. Staged misery loves company.
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