Sing it with me, please: "Anna Anna Anna Anna Anna Ni-cole!"Uh-oh. Things are not going well for our Kentucky fried centerfold. The guy who owns the Bahamian mansion she's been hiding out in wants to evict her because she's not making agreed upon payments. This gentleman was involved with her romantically, but hastens to add that he's not the father of her new baby.
She's been hospitalized for pneumonia.
Her oldest child was recently buried in the Bahamas, much to the chagrin of Anna Nicole's own mother.
And, as I understand it, a judge will soon rule about whether Anna's new baby will have a DNA test to establish paternity.
Remember when her life was a goofy cable reality show? Now it's become a tawdry and tragic soap opera.
Legality aside, I'm beginning to feel about her the way I feel about Michael Jackson. The life I'm reading about bears so little resemblance to any life I can imagine that it's as though I'm studying a life form from another planet.
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