HOLLYWOOD, Calif.  – With Christmas right around the corner (shortly after some other, lesser, turkey-and-Pilgrim-focused occasion which apparently doesn’t excite marketing and advertising people very much), we’ve once again entered the time of year when we take stock of our blessings, tap into our sense of giving and speculate wildly and irresponsibly about the health and wellbeing of people about whom we know almost nothing.

Topping the charts of vicious seasonal speculation this year is the identity of an unnamed, allegedly HIV-positive “Hollywood actor”  who is also alleged to have had sex with 50 or more porn performers.

Now, to be clear, we don’t know the identity of the porn star (who might actually be a former porn star) making the allegations, much less the identity of the Hollywood actor — but this shouldn’t stop us from engaging in public guesswork, the likes of which could cripple careers, damage reputations, cause divorces and improve the world in other, similar ways.

Some have jumped to the conclusion the unnamed star is a certain tiger-blood-drinking, wizardly “winner” who is known to have frolicked with several famous porn stars in his time, but to me, this is the worst kind of lazy, convenient speculation.

Personally, I prefer arduous, labor-intensive speculation, preferably the sort that requires several leaps in logic, a whole lot of suspension of disbelief and a mind open to possibilities that might strike a lot of people as unlikely, even physically impossible.

So, with no further ado, here’s my list of Hollywood suspects. I really want to call the list “Ben Folds Five,” except there’s only three of them and I’m not sure “folds” is the right verb for what I’m doing to them by placing them on this list. (Somehow, “Ben Defames Three” just doesn’t have the same ring to it.)

Sir Alec Guinness. I know what you’re thinking: Didn’t Sir Alec die about 15 years ago? In the conventional sense, yes, he did — but if you’ll recall, when you kill this guy, he just comes back more powerful than we can possibly imagine.

If this augmentation-by-death applies to Sir Alec’s powers generally and not just his ability to pass the salt without using his hands, my bet is it also applies to any diseases he may have contracted, as well as his ability to seduce porn stars — which I suspect would be formidable, given the whole Jedi Mind Trick thing he liked to whip out in a pinch.

Now, to be fair, there was no indication Sir Alec ever contracted HIV, much less saw it develop into full blown AIDS, but who among us can say with any real certainty what happens to a Jedi in the afterlife? Maybe Jedi Heaven amounts to a galactic Brothel of the Dead and Obi Wan just couldn’t resist playing an unprotected game of “Hide the Kenobi” with a questionable choice in ghostly partner.

Hey, don’t be so quick to scoff! This makes at least as much sense as the idea of Anakin Skywalker being the one who built C-3PO, after all.

Ray Liotta. OK, I’ll admit, I don’t really have a good reason for believing Ray Liotta to be the culprit here, or even a particularly plausible theory as to how he could be the perpetrator. Quite frankly, this one is personal.

Not long ago, a friend of mine and I were sitting at a bar, minding our own business and enjoying a nice round of cosmopolitans. Who should walk in but Ray Liotta — who promptly ordered a tequila shot, then glared over at us disapprovingly like there was something wrong with us or we weren’t “real men” because we were enjoying drinks garnished with a nice bit of fruit rind. Then, after my friend ordered a round of shots, I guess because he was feeling a little sheepish about his cosmo, that Liotta prick started chuckling at us like he was just too cool for school.

Fucking rude, right?

Of course, the best reason not to suspect Liotta is the anonymous porn star who related this tale referred to the actor in question as a “leading man,” and the only thing Liotta is leading is a silent migration of serious drinkers away from 1800 Tequila, because they don’t want to drink something associated with aging, has-been thespians who haven’t been in a decent movie since Goodfellas.

Animal (from The Muppets). If you’re old enough, you’ve probably heard the tales of debauchery engaged in by famous rock stars, like Keith Moon of The Who destroying hotel rooms and driving luxury cars into swimming pools, or Steven Tyler from Aerosmith stealing stage costumes from Patti LaBelle and then wearing them on tour for the next 40 years.

What you might not have heard, however, are the stories of rocking and rolling all night and partying every day surrounding the ill-fated 1989 tour of Dr. Teeth and The Electric Mayhem.

For example, during a two-night stint in Amsterdam, Animal got so high on amphetamines he tried to eat one of his drum techs, later telling hospital personnel he thought the roadie was “a giant cheese Danish.”

Rumor has it Animal went on quite a sex binge during the same tour, sometimes bedding 15-20 groupies in a single night, all while snorting amyl nitrate and hammering Jack Daniels like it was spinach to his Popeye.

Although his touring antics reportedly have mellowed a bit in recent years, Animal has never lost his appetite for new and different females at every stop, groupies he charmingly refers to as his “Woo-men.”

Of course, given that the (anonymous) porn star who (sort of) revealed the (possibly non-) news of the (maybe) HIV-infected (anonymous) “leading man” is herself not HIV positive, despite (allegedly) becoming pregnant by the (unidentified) fellow, it’s always possible the whole story is utter bullshit, or half-true — just not the AIDS part.

Just in case, though, I’d give Ray Liotta a wide berth if I were you — especially if you happen to enjoy alcoholic beverages with umbrellas in them and don’t particularly appreciate being made to feel like a giant pussy just because downing straight tequila shots inevitably makes you spew puke like a compromised fire hydrant on a hot summer day.