John Travolta: Attention Whore Extraordinaire

Hi. I'm John Travolta.

I'm a fat cross-dresser in the new movie Hairspray. Feel free to interrupt my shameless self-promotion with applause, screams, cheers, wolf whistles, indecent proposals shouted for the entire audience to hear, and hotel keys or underwear thrown onstage (male or female, I'm an equal opportunity movie god).


I've appeared in over 300 iconic American movies. While acting in one of the suckier ones, I met my lovely wife Kelly Preston.

At the time we met, I may or may not have looked like this (and bore a slight, though definitely creepy, resemblance to Napoleon Dynamite - just in the face, though. He never had a bod this hot).

Now I look more like Mrs. Crybaby Jones' dad, who, while not an ugly man, certainly doesn't have women throwing their panties at him - at least, not for a long time.

Some past roles you absolutely must, under penalty of law, remember me from are "Danny Zuko" in Grease....

I also danced one of the all-time important American movie dance scenes as "Tony Manero" in that ode to young smart aleck Italian-American gang rapists, Saturday Night Fever.

For about ten years, I was in a series of stink-o wastes of time (although, I will say that however you may feel about Look Who's Talking, I consider it one of my proudest moments). For my "comeback," I then had the pleasure of shootin' 'em up in that violent crapfest of a movie Pulp Fiction. Oooh, look at my big meanie man face. I look good mean!

Oh, and in case you forgot, I once danced with that dead Princess Diana for a total of five minutes at the White House one year, a fact I try to trot out at least once per television appearance; I fly jets and named my son after one; I'm a Scientologist like that one guy... um... don't tell me, I'll remember his name in a second... uh... darn, he's going to kill me for this... You ever have that problem, where you can't remember someone's name and then two weeks later at 3:00 in the morning, you finally remember?... He married that chick from Dawson's Creek... DANG!

Anyway. I'm in a movie about a fat girl who likes to dance, called Hairspray (the movie, not the girl), and I don't have $80 trillion in the bank yet, so I'd appreciate it if you'd go see my new movie. Or possibly head to the movie rental store and rent one of my tired old flicks that you can catch on TV for free most weeknights (sometimes on weekends if there's nothing good on, like The Hunt For Red October). Because Kelly, Jett, Ella and I could really use another ... um... hang on, let me ask Kelly.

Kelly? What overpriced superfluous bauble should we get this week? Liposuction for my triple chin? OK, thanks, babe.