Imagine this. You enter Jake Gyllenhaal’s home. Maybe you’re there to have sex with him, or maybe you’re there just to hang out because you guys are friends. Maybe you were invited to a dinner party he’s hosting, or maybe you’re attending the dinner party as a plus-one and you’re nervous. Regardless, you enter through a long, dimly lit hallway of framed photos. As you pass, the eyes of each photo somehow seem to follow you. Are they … moving? You take a closer look. Oh my God. They are all photos of Jake Gyllenhaal.
You move into the living room — more framed photos of Jake Gyllenhaal. In fear you topple backward into the kitchen: more framed photos of Jake Gyllenhaal. You rush through the house — Jake Gyllenhaal, Jake Gyllenhaal, Jake Gyllenhaal. There is no escape. You lock yourself in the bathroom, splash some water on your face. This can’t be true, you must be hallucinating. As you raise your head to look into the mirror, it is … oh no … another photo?? … no … it’s … THE REAL JAKE GYLLENHAAL! (And he has a knife!)
That’s a scary story I wrote based on this really good piece of gossip from a “Page Six” spy. The spy was at an art-framing store in downtown NYC when they overheard a conversation between someone who’d commissioned a painting of himself by his favorite artist and the owner of the store. I will let “Page Six” take it from there:
When the guy asked the owner if it seemed too vain to get a picture of himself framed, the owner reassured him by saying, “Jake Gyllenhaal comes in all the time and I’ve never framed something for him that’s not a picture of himself.”
AHHHH! Oops, sorry; I was just remembering my scary story. To be fair, a source close to Gyllenhaal “insisted” to “Page Six” that the pictures were posters from his movies. But I suppose we’ll only know the truth once one of us is invited to that dinner party.