Remember when Tom Cruise was simply a dreamboat sliding around a living room in socks, a button-up shirt, those cute tighy-whiteys, and a pair of awesome Ray-Bans? Ah the good old days.
Now, he’s jumping on couches, spouting Scientology dogma about the pitfalls of perfectly legitimate medical practices, and now buying a sonogram machine to do at-home ultrasounds on his pregnant fianée.
I’m seeing a pattern here. Remember when Michael Jackson was a shy guy whose only quirk was wearing one sequined glove and a jacket with 27 zippers? Then he bought this vast piece of land that he turned into an amusement park called “Neverland.” Next thing we know, he’s letting little boys sleep in his bed.
I’m not saying Tom’s going to turn in to a child molester. But don’t be surprise if the media finds one of those cute nicknames for him á la “Wacko Jacko.”