Picks and Pans Review: Mr. G. Makes An Ass of Himself
updated 03/23/1992 AT 01:00 AM EST
•originally published 03/23/1992 AT 01:00 AM EST
Geraldo also asked his wife, C.C., who produces his show, if he should go through with it. She joked that she'd rather see him consult the other doctor on his panel that day, the one doing penis enlargements. Geraldo didn't appreciate the humor. "Just kidding, right, hon? Right, hon? Just kidding?" he kept repeating with a grim wait-till-I-get-you-home tone.
Touchy, touchy. Then Geraldo twice stood center stage and, with a banner emblazoned GERALDO held up in front of him, flirted with the audience while he dropped his pants to have his posterior first anesthetized and then drained. Right, pal, there's nothing sexier than seeing a lumpy guy bent over while a doctor prods him with a syringe. Then came the big moment. As he lay there with this gross orange goop about to be injected into his forehead, what were Geraldo's thoughts? "Great," he said. "Now the camera is looking right up my nose."
This guy doesn't need any more fat transferred to his head, but is there a euthanasia-ologist in the house?