Meg Ryan has admitted that her Hollywood career is probably over. She says she's too old to get good parts anymore and doesn't really feel like trying. But instead of merely fading into the woodwork like all good washed-up movie stars do, Ryan has decided to cling to the spotlight with every last ounce of strength she has in her. And because she has no more real acting prospects, she's decided to resort to the cheesy, wholly predictable ploy of spilling her private shit all over the place. Recently, she threw her ex-husband Dennis Quaid under the bus, claiming he was unfaithful to her for a long time - long before she herself fucked around with Russell Crowe (in a move clearly meant to help her escape her good-girl image - it didn't work cause no one cared either way). Quaid came back at Ryan, saying, "It was eight years ago, and I find it unbelievable that Meg continues publicly to rehash and rewrite the story of our relationship." It's not unbelievable at all Dennis - it's right out of the playbook. No one has any class anymore. It all reminds me of something Greta Garbo once said when asked why she refused to talk about her personal life:
Your joys and sorrows. You can never tell them. You cheapen the inside of yourself if you do tell them.
A lesson that's lost on the Meg Ryans of the world.
