I’ve received a great many email messages asking me why I am not speaking out about how the news has made me feel, what I think personally about this subject, and why I have been so circumspect in delivering my usually unabashed opinion.
“There is so much to discuss,” people have said. Why am I not providing more of a forum and starting the conversation by definitively revealing my personal opinion, calling the spade what it is and getting on with it already? “Never tell me you’re going to start being politically correct, you wussy,” one reader said.
It has taken me a few days to articulate in any organized fashion my reaction, which until now has consisted mostly of noise. Lots of noise invoking fury, indignation and disappointment. To learn with great disillusionment that someone admired and liked by many is not at all what I thought… well, it did rock my world more than a little.
Some will say this is old news, that I ought to let it die already and not resuscitate it, but this is my forum, my website, and it’s time I revealed what I really think - not that I’ve ever been accused of holding back.
Fabio, it seems, has given the most egomaniacal interview in the history of the world.
My love of Fabio. It has died an ignominious death.
Jezebel wrote about it, and Details, of course, has the interview in its entirety. Oh, how it hurts.
As Dlisted wrote in their coverage, He is “such a stallion:”
He’s an ultimate fighter, a screwing machine and everybody wants him. Kudos to the interviewer for not throwing his tape recorder in the air and immediately blowing Fabio. I mean Fabio is just that irresistible.
Really, I have tried to remain silent on the subject. Disillusionment is difficult. But honestly? I really liked Fabio until this interview.
Candy wrote in an email exchange in which I remained hurtfully stoic: “...how do you amortize a punch? Does that even make sense? Instead of Fists of Fury, he has Fists of Compound Interest?”
The reply, from the fabulousness who sent us the article to begin with: “I totally want a t-shirt that says ‘Hold still, Ima’ amortize yo ass Fabio style.’”
Oh, the whimpers of shame. I used to be able to defend Fabio so easily, to support my unwavering humorous love for him with a simple analysis of his body… of work: “He’s so big! So virile! So long of hair and large of pectoral! And despite all that he doesn’t take himself seriously! He does commercials for margarine, for heaven’s sake! He did a fake ad for his own shampoo for Nationwide, complete with gondolas and roses! He mocks his own fame! Fabio is hawt because he doesn’t take himself too seriously and can laugh at his own overblown mystique!”
But no, it seems he does. From that interview, I am reborn into a cold, cruel realization - Fabio does indeed seem to take himself seriously. So seriously, it is seriously unsexy. Despite the writer’s assurances that “Fabio knows full well that even in his prime, he was a joke,” I am not buying it any longer. And I am so, so sad.
What kills me is that Fabio is always in the top ten list of people I’d like to have a drink with, if only to meet them personally and talk to them for an hour. But I don’t know if it will happen, since “he has a hard time meeting girls he likes, because, you know, he’s Fabio.” I’m guessing married moms like me are not on his radar, even if I’m buying the drink, since he’s already rather disparaging of aspiring actress waitresses.
So, I admit my shame: my estimation of Fabio, it seems to have been very, very wrong.
However, read this part and see if your brain doesn’t go the same place mine did:
Right now he’s working on a super-secret energy drink. He has already raised several million dollars, he says, and by next year should be in a position to launch it. “I’m telling you, you’re gonna drink this stuff and after a few days you’ll be like, ‘Fabio, I can’t believe how much energy I have.’”
What’s in it?
“I wish I could tell you, but it’s a secret. I’m sitting on this gold mine for a long time. It’s like you’re looking all over your house for your car keys and it turns out you are sitting on them, that’s what this is like.”
Hmmm. Dare I ask: Is Fabio marketing a drink made of poo?
