Teddy and Keef are totally worth it

Senator Edward Kennedy has agreed to pen his memoirs for at least eight million dollars -- one of the largest advances in publishing history. Kennedy's high profile deal also edges out the 7.3 million Rolling Stone Keith Richards gathered a few months ago for his life story.

The obvious connection between Kennedy and Richards is that they have both beat the odds to remain alive despite family curses and/or badly impaired livers. But that isn't their only similarity. Let's explore what else Teddy and Keef have in common:

Really famous, but still less famous than their more aesthetically pleasing close relations:
He's been in the Senate for over forty years, but Kennedy remains in the shadow of his two eternally svelte older brothers. Keef will always play second fiddle to Mick, that makeup wearing dandy.

Tied to tragic drownings in 1969:
It wasn't long after Ex-Rolling Stone Brian Jones had a falling out with Richards that an inebriated Jones was found dead at the bottom of a swimming pool. It wasn't long after Ex-Boiler Room Girl Mary Jo Kopeche got into a car with an inebriated Ted Kennedy that Kopeche was found dead at the bottom of a pond.

Speak in accents all their own:
I can remember back in 1998 when Kennedy sang the praises of home run sluggers "Mike McQuire and Sammy Suser." Can anyone remember the last time they understood a word out of Richards's mouth?

Subject to rumors of unconventional recreational activities involving others:
I don't think we are ever going to get to bottom of whether Richards really snorted his dead dad's ashes. Likewise, it's been 22 years and nobody knows if Kennedy really used fellow New England Senator Christopher Dodd as the other slice of bread in a "waitress sandwich."

Have too much skin for their faces:
As does Christopher Dodd, for that matter.

Think the kids today are soft:
Richards once claimed he quit taking drugs not for health reasons, but because they were not strong enough anymore. Kennedy has yet to state publicly that he quit drinking whiskey for the same reason, but you don't get eight plus million dollars for a memoir about Senatorial procedures and touch football in Hyannisport. . .