We hear a lot about how often celebrity stalking is not taken seriously enough, but sometimes we hear stories of justice being served. Steven Richard Burky, the man who was found guilty on charges of stalking Jennifer Garner and Ben Affleck, has been sent to live in a mental institution. From Radar Online:
“Steven Richard Burky, pleaded no contest today to two counts of felony stalking. Judge Katherine Mader then found him not guilty by reason of insanity and sentenced him to Patton State Hospital. Deputy District Attorney Wendy Segall said the judge made her ruling based on reports from two psychiatrists who examined Burky.”
On the chance that Steven is released from the mental institution, there has also been a 10-year, 500-yard restraining order put in place to protect Ben, Jen and the kids.
It’s definitely a positive sign for celebrities that their safety is being taken seriously, but it’s slightly sad to know that scaling the side of someone’s house to deliver them the presents you made them out of your own body hair will now get you locked away. Whatever. As long as James Franco loves the pet dog I wove him out of my pubes, I am totally fine eating Jell-O on a cot for the next 20 years of my life. I’ve seen Girl, Interrupted. I can hack that shit for James.
The first 2 seasons, I was all about it– from the moment double agent Sydney Bristow showed up in the lobby of the CIA wearing that raver wig and looking beat all to hell, till they pulled that crappy 2 year time lapse thing at the end of the second season and things started to get all weird and shitty.
That show was amazing, because it was the first time I can remember a female lead in a modern action series that wasn’t just two dimensional (or should I say, 32-DDimensional) but managed to be strong, sexy, smart, badass, and yeah, vulnerable at the same time. Before you could say “Emmy nomination” I was signing up for Krav Maga classes and checking out books on game theory from the library. I never finished either the books the Krav Maga lessons (or the TV series for that matter) but I’m pretty sure Jennifer Garner, Bradley Cooper, and Michael Vartan all thank their lucky stars every day for that damn raver wig and the character beneath it who gave them their big breaks.
As I mentioned above, the show started going downhill for me after the end of the second season, and this week, Michael Vartan (who played Sydney’s love interest, Vaughn, on the show) finally nailed the coffin shut for me by getting engaged to his girlfriend Lauren Skaar, a woman he met in a Whole Foods parking lot in Los Angeles last year.
What the shit? The only thing I’ve ever managed to pick up at a Whole Foods is a growler of Yazoo beer.
So, congratulations and stuff…. I guess.
At least we still have Bradley Cooper. I know at least one writer on this website who is willing to be such a beard for him the L.A. Kings will constantly think it’s hockey playoff season.
I certainly hope this isn’t true, but I have a sinking feeling that it is.
Radar is reporting that Ben Affleck — who famously entered rehab for his drinking problem back in 2001 — was most definitely off the wagon at the Sundance Film Festival:
At the party for his new movie, Affleck “immediately sat down at a VIP table and grabbed the bottle of Absolut in front of him and poured a drink,” a source told RadarOnline.com.
Publicists, staffers and others were stunned because they know that Affleck is an admitted alcoholic. They got rid of all the photographers near the area to protect Affleck.
I have to admit, I’ve had a feeling for awhile that something wasn’t quite right in the Affleck world. The photo agencies have new pics of Jen with the kids nearly every day, but you very rarely see Ben in them. He wasn’t at the Golden Globes with Jen. The last photo WireImage has of them together was taken in March of 2009. That’s a long time for a very famous couple not to hit the red carpet together.
Anyway. Ben. This sucks. I don’t want to see you go through this, and I don’t want to see your family go through this. Get back to rehab, asshole, and get sober. I downright refuse to write your fucking obituary this year.