Vince Neil: Douchebag

Mötley Crüe frontman Vince Neil was always ambitious. Plenty of similar musicians were content just being talentless, but Vince took it upon himself to go the extra mile by being an obnoxious asshole on top of his lack of musical worth. In keeping with tradition, he has again raised (lowered?) the bar, this time by creating a line of tequila called Tres Rios. "But Will," I hear you all thinking, "what's so bad about that?"

Glad you asked.

23 years ago, Vince Neil drove drunk and had an accident that killed his friend and passenger, Nicholas "Razzle" Dingley of the band Hanoi Rocks (don't worry, I've never heard of him either). Said death resulted in thirty days (you read that right) of jail time for Neil, which pretty much makes him totally even. Aside from reinforcing the lesson that befriending Vince Neil is one of the worst choices a human being can make, it casts his decision to sell alcohol in a somewhat* retarded light.

Jesus, the guy is a serious contender for the title of Most Remorseless Murderer Walking the Streets.

*Completely.

Source: TMZ

Everyone Has Herpes

An insider from The Bachelor has revealed to The National Enquirer that the producers had to turn away numerous women from the show because they didn't pass the medical portion of the test:

The producers of The Bachelor have been floored by the amount of pretty women who don't get to woo series hunks - because they have herpes. A new report reveals a substantial number of single stunners were turned away from the most recent show's auditions after testing positive for herpes and other communicable diseases.

You know, you would think the producers at The Bachelor wouldn't be so quick to judge. And, really, I think they're eliminating the best crop of girls from competition. I mean, I've seen the commercials. Folks with herpes are so darned sporty, and affectionate to boot. They're always going on these long bike rides, or taking walks together hand in hand on the beach at sunset, or swinging on a rope swing, or just cuddling together in really sensible looking outfits in front of a fire, or in the grass...really, these people cuddle just about anywhere. Shame on you, Bachelor. You think just any girl is going to play touch football with you on the beach?


Source: Starpulse

Guest Judge

So gang, guess what? Sug's got some super fantastic assignment of glory at work (that's what he called it. Seriously) and he's going to be losing a lot of his regular posting time for at least a month. So we have a pal of ours filling in during his absence. See him up there? Replace him with a white teenage boy from the south, and that's totally him. Will is the only person we know with enough spare time the wit and the ability to fill shoes as big as those left by Sug. So be nice to him while he gets his bearings (you know, I don't really know what that means...to "get your bearings" It sounds like it's related to cars. I'm gonna ask my dad) and once he's gotten comfortable, do feel free to rip into him like you would either one of us.

Fin.

Isaiah Washington Not A Mush-Mouth Negro

I sort of don't care about Isaiah Washington. He's like that girl, you know? That girl that gets dumped and can't get over it? And rather then having some dignity and just walking down the halls with her head held high, she's got to trash talk the hell out of her offending ex-beau. Oh, and she's black. And even though the break up didn't have anything to do with that, she's telling everyone that it did. Ah, young love. Here's some of the stuff she he has had to say about his recent headline grabbing firing:

“On his argument with Patrick Dempsey which resulted in the epic "faggot" debacle: Patrick Dempsey and I had a disagreement that got out of hand and that I regret a great deal. I said a lot of negative things that were never reported, but one word caught everyone’s attention, particularly someone who wasn’t even in the room with us. Someone heard the booming voice of a black man and got really scared and that was the end.”

Yea, you got them there, Isaiah. White folks don't know what to do when they hear a black man's voice. Most of them run screaming straight onto the set of the Ellen show where it's safe.

Regarding the prejudice he feels surrounds his termination from the show: "It didn’t help me that I was a black man who wasn’t a mush-mouth Negro walking around with his head in his hands all the time. I didn’t speak like I’d just left the plantation and that can be a problem for people sometime. I had a person in HR tell me after this thing played out that some people were afraid of me around the studio. I asked her why, because I’m a 6-foot-1, black man with dark skin and who doesn’t go around saying ‘Yessah, massa sir’ and ‘No sir, massa’ to everyone?

Seriously? You...I mean...oh fuck it. You got them, Isaiah. You got them good. They replaced you with these guys. Sorry to be the one to have to tell you.



Source: The Hollywood Gossip

Spice Up Your Life! Oi, but not too much, I've got the ulcer now and reflux like the dickens.

Looks like those darned Spice Girls are at it again. After months of speculation and rumor which drew the interest of, literally, DOZENS of avid fans, the aging promoters of Girl Power have announced their reunion plans:

All five Spice Girls appeared in public together for the first time in six years today (June 28) as they announced an 11-date, eight-country world tour.

The tour will take in the USA, Britain, Germany, Spain, China, Australia, South Africa and Argentina. To register for tickets go to www.thespicegirls.com

Straddling Christmas, the tour will begin in Posh Spice Victoria Beckham’s new home Los Angeles on December 7, before visiting Las Vegas, New York City, London, Cologne, Madrid, Beijing, Hong Kong, Sydney, Cape Town and Buenos Aires.

Sweet Moses, look at them up there. At least you can only see their feet, which would actually be the preferred view since they've all chosen rather fabulous footwear to deter the eye from their otherwise questionable ensembles, save for Scary who REALLY needs to reconsider those red things she's strapped to her hooves. Don't get me wrong, I'm a fan of the red shoe on most days. Just not, you know, THOSE red shoes. And never ever should the red shoe see the light of day when the red shoe is accompanying a red ensemble, unless you're going to the prom and it's 1995. And if that's the case you should tell your fella you want a WRISTLET corsage, because who wants a big bouquet of standard roses taking away from their billowy sleeves or getting in the way of their stellar macarena execution? Honestly, boys don't understand anything. Hey, remember when the Spice Girls could stand in FRONT of the flag rather than hiding behind it? Ahh, those were the days...



I can only hang on and hope that this tour comes blessed with a camera crew documenting every stretchmarked and botoxed moment so that I can bask in the glory that will be Bravo's Reuinited and It Feels So Good: The Spice Girls (if they use that name, I want royalties).

Source: Times Online

Harry Potter Gets Some

Oh God it's a slow news day. Rather, it's a slow news day if you're trying to break the Paris/Britney/Lindsay habit (if you're interested, Paris is in Maui, Britney served her mom with a letter from her lawyer, and Lindsay loves the gak). Not much we're left with, really. That means it's Potter time:

Daniel Radcliffe — the star of the Harry Potter series — said Friday while in Tokyo for the premiere of the latest installment that it took a few takes to get over the nerves of getting the young wizard through his first on-screen kiss.

And even then, he didn't really feel the magic.

"When we started it, we were both a bit nervous," Radcliffe said at a news conference. "But after the first few takes, it was sort of like any other scene, which is never really what people want to hear. It doesn't really feel any different, because you are still acting."

You hear that Cho? Huh? No magic, baby. He's a fucking WIZARD, and you didn't even wake the basilisk. And guess who he keeps calling for some more of the good stuff? Yea, you're damn right. My Predator brings all the boys to the yard.


Source: AP

New Obsession: Hey Paula!

Confession time: I'm obsessed with bad reality t.v. I don't get involved with any reality shows that actually gain decent ratings: American Idol, Survivor, Big Brother...I assume they're probably good shows. I wouldn't know, though, because I don't watch them. So You Think You Can Dance, Grease: You're The One That I Want, Pussycat Dolls Presents: Search For the Next Doll. Oh hell YES. And now all of my shameful dreams come true. Hey Paula!

Unbelievable. Downright unbelievable. Have you ever watched an entire hour's worth of programming with your jaw dropped while peering through your fingers and cringing simultaneously? If not, today's your lucky day. Bravo is brilliant enough to have shown two half hour episodes back to back to back to back. Guess what I'm doing? If you guessed "watching each of the two episodes twice and considering watching them via tivo in fifteen minutes when they're over" then you guessed right.

Guys, you HAVE to watch this with me. It's going to be the best thing ever, I promise. Paula has already cried four times, flirted with the entire cosmetics company creating her perfume line, scolded her assistants for not procuring the proper sweatpants and tennis shoes for her flight to Philadelphia, scolded the kindly women at QVC for not seeing her vision for her black hills gold jewelry collection through properly, complained about those darned Bratz people not calling her back for two months to discuss the wardrobe options for the aforementioned Bratz, made seven Simon jokes, flubbed no less than 40 interviews, stumbled through an acceptance speech, lost her limousine, and tripped in front of on-looking fans in a Valentino gown. And that's just off the top of my head. Thursday. Ten o'clock. Bravo. It's like our own little book club, but instead of books it's shameless reality television. Come on, guys, what do you say?

Will you watch Hey Paula with me? PLEASE?
	Sure thing, Mel. I'm secretly watching it anyway.
	Maybe. But only if there's nothing else on.
	Absolutely no way on any level of hell would I watch this.
	You really shouldn't drink as much as you do, Mel. Seriously.
Free polls from Pollhost.com

This is Just So Disturbing

This Benoit case is reading like a WWE script more and more by the second. Fox News is reporting that the wikipedia page for Chris Benoit was updated to include the death of his wife. What's the problem with this? The update was made from a computer in Stamford, CT (home to WWE headquarters) thirteen hours before the bodies were discovered in Benoit's Atlanta home. I don't care to speculate on this until an actual law enforcement agency has something to say about it. Click the link for the full story.

Source: Fox News

Cameron Diaz Has Hateful Accessories

I have a very confusing love/hate relationship with Cameron Diaz. On the one hand, I sort of want to drink with her and complain about ex-boyfriends and call their new girlfriends ugly talentless hacks getting by in Hollywood on their bra size alone. On the other hand, sometimes I want to smack her and tell her to stop talking for, like, EVER until the world has had a chance to forget how ridiculous she tends to sound when un-scripted, and for being ugly/pretty in a way I still can't wrap my head around. So it was a tough call, really, to figure out which side to take on this entire handbag debacle that Cam has currently found herself in. She bought a handbag and, unbeknownst to her, said handbag was offensive to the people of Peru where she strolled about with it for all to see. She heard that it was offensive and apologized for it and, I'm assuming, will never be seen with the handbag again. But, apparently, that's not good enough:

NOT everyone buys Cameron Diaz's apology for traipsing around Peru carrying a bag emblazoned with a red star and the words "Serve the People," Communist icon Mao Zedong's most famous political slogan, printed in Chinese. Thor Halvorssen, president of the Human Rights Foundation, told Page Six, "It is bad enough that Diaz wears a bag quoting history's most prolific butcher, but what's even worse is that she is of Cuban heritage and really should know something about the true history of communism. There is a double standard here that boggles the mind: Had she worn a bag quoting Himmler or Pinochet, she would likely face career annihilation, and rightly so." While the Mao bag is ultrachic on the Upper West Side and college campuses, in Peru, the "Serve the People" slogan evokes memories of the bloodthirsty Shining Path terrorists who left nearly 70,000 dead. "I sincerely apologize to anyone I may have inadvertently offended," Diaz said in a statement. "The bag was a purchase I made as a tourist in China, and I did not realize the potentially hurtful nature of the slogan printed on it."

Yea...I'm backing Cameron today. Maybe it's because I'm still in that ultra-nice mode from earlier (when both Paris and Amy Winehouse were dubbed "pretty" and "adorable" ) but I don't think so, gang. I mean...honestly? Who carries a pocket translator when shopping? Anyone? Show of hands. And to say some double standard is at play here because she of Cuban heritage didn't understand the implications of the statement in a language she doesn't speak or read on her handbag? For fuck's sake, it's not exactly a slow news week, is this the biggest scandal that could be dug up? Cam honey, maybe giving that bag to Goodwill is a good idea, but don't for one second give this whole thing a second thought. Especially not on the morn before the eve that Paris will most certainly let her vagina out to play at Hyde. You stay in tonight, love, and tomorrow this will all be forgotten.


Source: Page Six

Summary Judgment: 1408

Sick days are good for more than a few things, catching up on the past two weeks of So You Think You Can Dance not being the least of those. Sick days are also good for watching a lot of movies you might not otherwise have time for. Such was the case yesterday, when I viewed Because I Said So, Evan Almighty, and 1408. My judgment on the first two, accordingly: Because I Said So- sucked, but Mandy Moore is so cute that I wish I didn't have to hate her on account of the Zach Braff fiasco, and I also really wish they hadn't worked in a way for her to sing, and golly but I wish I had sisters. Evan Almighty- Entertaining with an asterisk. And the asterisk is: If you're in a hotel, and you've got four channels to choose from, and one of them is TBS and it's showing Evan Almighty...in that instance, it's entertaining. But so is, like, the phone book. Or Telemundo. Equally. Also, why did I watch so many movies with Lauren Graham yesterday? Am I subconsciously drawn to her? I have to investigate this.

1408, I feel, deserves some time dedicated to it. As with any review, expect spoilers. One of the things you need to know about me is that I am a disenchanted Stephen King enthusiast, for reasons Sug and I have never been able to agree upon. My point here is I've been considerably wary of Stephen King and unable to thoroughly enjoy him as I have in years past since he wronged me in one fashion or another. Previously I've hated all film versions of King's work because I felt the film never captured the full story. This aversion to King on film coupled with my current dissatisfaction with his craft made me less than enthusiastic to watch this movie. However, as a John Cusack fan/stalker since his Lloyd Dobler days, I had to watch. I have pledged my undying love to Lloyd Dobler, after all.

1408 has us following Mike Enslin, a writer currently working on a piece that finds him spending the night in notorious haunts. His early dialogue stating that there's no such thing as ghosts, no such thing as the after-life, no such thing as God leads us to believe that he's been scorned by the Lord, and I'm already rolling my eyes at an obvious King story-line: scorned writer must face his personal demons, likely while battling an addiction, to properly tell this, his preeminent story, and reconcile with those he's wronged while battling through the dark. Yawn. I liked this better when Johnny Depp was the scorned be-demoned writer, say sorry Mr Cusack.

Samuel L. Jackson plays the part of the forboding hotel manager, warning our troubled hero to stay out of 1408, for the love of God, motherfucker. Except he didn't say motherfucker once, and I was disappointed by that. His part is minimal, but as is the essence of Sam Jackson, his small role is enough to remember him to you throughout the film. It's also enough for you to get right pissed at the Sears fellow who sold you your refrigerator. Had I known there was a model that included Sam Jackson yelling at me from it's depths upon searching for a beverage, I certainly would have ponied up the extra cash to have added that option.

Without giving away too much (and certainly in hopes of avoiding the wrath of the Censormatic 2000) I give you my final judgment of 1408: It successfully scared me and kept me watching the clock in hopes of an ending in sight as I endured the vision that is John Cusack trashing his hotel room in true rock star style. Scared me to the point that I uttered the phrase, "Baby, John Cusack is scaring me" no less then three times while watching. I awarded extra points for the ending, simply because it went exactly where I expected it to and then dug itself right back out of that predictable hell, and while the last five minutes felt slightly Hallmark and simple to me, I wasn't entirely disappointed. I am, however, left questioning how I would have felt about the film had it been cast differently. Were it not for John Cusack and Samuel L Jackson, would I have bothered with it? I think not, and I don't think I'm alone.

Of the film, I'd say I'm pleased in a subdued fashion. It spooked me, I felt it was shot cleverly, and early reviews from internet geeks have likened it to Hitchcock or Kubrick. I'm not sure if I agree with that comparison strongly enough to agree with that statement, but it's out there. Of the actors, I'd say they made the best of what could be made with it, and this movie would have stayed off most any radar without their involvement. However, and I hate to do this, I felt that John Cusack simply channeled Martin Blank for this role. And while I love Martin Blank and all that he embodies, and while the very existence of Martin Blank and his undeniably well delivered dialogue was in fact the baseboard for my friendship with Sug, I didn't entirely feel that Martin Blank deserved to be tortured in room 1408. I felt that Martin Blank could have been wittier and would have been wittier, if it weren't for the new inner demon he was battling. But honestly, after killing the president of Parguay with a fork, how much bigger can your demons GET? Of the story, I say well done with a side of meh. It's not often that a "scary" movie goes the full distance of scaring me instead of settling for simply grossing me out. However, it is quite often that a scary movie saves the hero at the last second (fuck you, I said there were spoilers at the beginning) and for that I'm considerably less enthusastic. Of Stephen King, I say try harder. I'm not quite back yet, sir.

Amy Winehouse Is Not From God

I'm obsessed with Amy Winehouse. I make no secret of the fact that I love her. I love her music. I want her to sing to me while I swing lazily on my porch (I also need a porch and a swing on said porch for this to work) sipping my evening martini and smoking my evening pack of cigarettes (I'm trying to cut back.) That being said, she also scares the bejesus out of me. That's a problem. I'm rather partial to my bejesus and I'd like to keep it if at all possible. This is not superficial, mind you, but a completely rational fear. Observe:

The singer reportedly carved the words 'I love Blake' into her stomach and made repeated foul mouth rants, as she spoke to US rock magazine Spin.

Talking before her recent marriage to husband Blake Fielder-Civil, she ranted about her new found superstardom.

'I'm not in this to be a f***ing role model' she insisted.

Um...

Shit, gang, I don't even know where to go with this. Firstly, I'm not sure anyone has ever accused Winehouse of being a role model. Secondly, isn't cutting supposed to be, you know, secret? I mean, all of the after school specials always called it "secret cutting." I guess things have changed since my days as a wee lass, bitching about General Hospital being off the air for the day so I could watch a very special Hallmark program: She Cut in Silence.

You know what really gets me about this one, though? Amy Winehouse is really cute. Stay with me, here. Amy Winehouse, when she sings, is adorable. She has this very girly stature and her mannerisms are dainty and her face so coy and secretive...she is downright adorable when in her element. And I say this completely inclusive of her tattoos, beehive hairdo, lioness/Elvira-esque eye makeup, and scars. I can do without all those things, mind you, but they don't take away from how downright captivating she is when she's on stage as you would think they would. But sweet mother of lo-carb energy drinks, can I ignore this? I've stated before that I'd be terrified of seeing this thing in person, but my love affair with her album and her performance has brought me to change my mind. I want to hear her sing live every night. From the aforementioned imaginary swing on my veranda (I'll get one.) I'm just not sure that I'll allow sharp objects in the vicinity.


Source: Metro UK

Paris Hilton is Pretty

Sug and I appear to have made a habit of going radio-free when big news days roll around. Such was the case this week, when Paris left the Pokey. Since the minute by minute details have been splashed everywhere else, I'm not even attempting to say much about it. Aside from this, of course:

Paris Hilton is PRETTY. Paris Hilton should look like that every day. In fact, if Paris Hilton ever tries to spray bronze herself and then paint her face for three hours as we've gotten used to seeing her, then we ought to have an intervention. Also, this is the first time I've ever said anything nice about Paris Hilton, and it feels dirty. Luckily, I'm not against finding any mildly related cause to maintain my hatred regardless of reason. So this works out just fine for me. See, I was sick on Monday but I came into work in the morning. I came here in sweats and no makeup, because I was SICK. I actually left the house thinking "hey, I don't look so bad...I can do no makeup when I have a tan, Sweet!" Then I came to work and everyone told me how terrible I looked. "Oh, you look so tired" and "you really do look awful." So, my face is awful. They hate my face. And since Paris Hilton looks great, nay better, without her makeup, I hate her. She's the devil.

Inside the Judge's Chambers...

*

Sug: Dude, you know who plays the bad guy in Die Hard 2?
Mel: Hans Gruber's relative of some sort?
Sug: No, that's in Die Hard 3.
Mel: Tell me.
Sug: I'm saying the actor.
It's fucking Death.
Mel: Die Harder really is a great name for a movie...
Death, like, "Don't overlook my butt" death?
Sug: Yep.
One and the same.
He was also in Shawshank. And The Green Mile.
Mel: Ever notice that EVERYone has Tales from The Crypt in their IMDB profile?
It's like they stick you in Tales From the Crypt when you haven't worked in awhile so you can keep your benefits, or something.
Sug: Do they still make those?
Mel: I have no idea.
I've just noticed it listed in the filmography of the last dozen people I've IMDBd.
It's a verb now.
Sug: I love IMDB.
I've loved it for, like, 8 years.
I pretty much go to it once or twice a day.
Mel: Even people that have no right having a profile have one.
Sug: Everydamnbody.
Oh snap! I didn't kow Carl Winslow was in Die Hard 2 as well.
It's like they just took everybody who survived the first one and stuck them in.
They put the man with no dick from Ghostbusters on the plane with Bruce Willis's wife.
Mel: And I bet at least one of those two people you listed was once on Tales from the Crypt.
That show makes Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon a snap.
Sug: I thought you're not supposed to use TV.
Mel: Everyone has their own rules, it's like beer pong.
Sug: Ha!!!!!
Mel: I'll even allow real world relations...like, if you can get to Kyra Sedgwick, you win. They're married.
Sug: They were BOTH on an episode of Tales from the Crypt.
Mel: How fucking amazing is that?
Sug: It's goddamn uncanny.
Mel: That show is like the baseboard to the role of Man #2 in coffee shop.
Which of course leads to "helpful policeman".
And, ultimately, "man in bar #2".
Which is not to be confused to man #2 in coffee shop.
Coffee shop work is for amateurs.
Sug: Well, kids can get into coffee shops.
Bar work proves you're grown up.
You're super grown-up if the credit is "topless woman #2 in bar".
Mel: And you've made the big-time when you land the lap dancer role.
Only the REALLY talented Tales from the Crypt cast-offs get to slug trail the supporting male lead's chinos.
Sug: Dennis Franz is in Die Hard 2, but he was never in Tales from the Crypt. Neither was Presidential candidate Fred Thompson.
I hate that you used the term "slug trail," and I hate that I know what it means.
Mel: Think twice before getting another lapdance, Sug
They don't make a woolite for that.
Sug: Did I ever tell you BOB'S** story about his glasses?
Mel: No.
Sug: He was drunk at a strip club his freshman year in college.
Stripper came up to him, took his glasses off of his face, folded them up, inserted them, took them out, put them back on his face, and said, "Now you'll be seeing pussy all night."
Mel: inserted...I hope he threw them out.
Seriously.
I would have punched her.
Sug: He didn't.
Mel: He SHOULD have punched her.
That's a whole new level of disgusting.
Sug: In fact, as he told it, he didn't wash them.
Mel: ...
He wore her gonorrhea.
Sug: I sometimes wonder why I'm friends with BOB.
Mel: I do too, Sug.
I'm going to leave now.
I'm going to get onion rings and a milk shake.
Sug: Good effing idea.
Mel: You...you stay away from BOB.

*Irrelevant clip from The Office.
**Name changed to protect the innocent and likely diseased.

Eddie Murphy, When It Comes To Baby Angel Iris Murphy Brown, You ARE The Father

Melanie Brown, aka Scary Spice, has revealed that results of the DNA tests taken by Eddie Murphy on June 11 prove that he is the child's father:

"He's the baby's father, it's official," says a source close to Brown. "The baby is undoubtedly, 110 percent his."

Of Brown, the source said, "There was no doubt in people's minds anyways, least of all hers. It wasn't a surprise to her. She knew all along."

I can't really figure out where to go with this now. I mean, it was pretty obvious that he was the father, right? Is Scary Spice giving up enough of the good stuff for there to have been any debate? I mean, I know Eddie was all "fuck you, that ain't my baby" but the rest of us knew, right? That's what I thought. Let's take this opportunity,then, to watch Eddie Murphy attempt a music career, shall we? That's right, Eddie's girl wants to party ALL the time.



Source: People

A Public Service Announcement:

We here at Don't Judge Me are all for the anonymity (I can't believe I spelled that right on the first try) that the internet allows. Be anyone you want, it's glorious! We're ourselves and we like it that way. You know our names, and if you're attentive, you know where we live and what toppings we like on our pizza. If you don't like folks on the interweb knowing all that good stuff about you, we're cool with that. Have a fun name or go anonymous. Don a wig, sport an eyepatch, call yourself Captain Squishyfoot. We're FINE with it. If you're anonymous and specifically targeting and attacking one of our judges, we're probably going to have a lookie-loo at your IP address. If that IP address leads back to someone we know in the really real world, maybe someone that really needs to grow up and just GET OVER IT already, we're going to ban you. Not because we "can't take the heat" but because stalking people you know in the really real world on the internet and then hiding behind an anonymous comment is lame. Really lame. Super lame to the max! I can't think of any more lame things to say about it. Cue the music.

The more you know!

Perez Hilton Won't Die

Perez Hilton is an annoyance. Not because he's loud or obnoxious or tacky or any of the things that usually annoy me. He's an annoyance because he's in a position to make a GOOD name for bloggers everywhere, yet chooses to do the exact opposite. There's nothing I despise more than hearing "Oh, like Perez Hilton?" when I tell a new acquaintance of my endeavors in the world of gossip blogging. No. NOT like Perez Hilton. I don't discriminate and leave certain celebrities off of my chopping block simply because they bought me a drink once. I don't consider doodling on a stolen picture to be content. And on that note, I don't steal. If a picture comes along that Sug and I can't afford, guess what we do? We don't post it. We point you toward a legal place on the big ol' interweb where you can view it and then return when you are done. Maybe it's an inconvenience for you guys, I don't know. What I do know is that the top ad on Perez's site goes for $9000 a week. A week. For one ad. Perez can afford to purchase pictures from x17. He can afford them AND that supercool new blue hair dye. There's no reason for Perez to have gained a reputation for himself (along with the rest of the gossip blogosphere) as being someone to look down upon. So, it is with great pleasure that I announce that something is finally being done about it:

In what may be the first hit against bloggerazzi star Perez Hilton's empire, his main webhost has dropped Perezhilton.com.

After numerous warnings against Hilton's (aka Mario Lavandeira) use of copyrighted celebrity images, the Oz-based Crucial Paradigm took the site off line; it was dark for a number of hours before it returned to the Internet with a different host.

Not to be outdone, x17 has contacted Perez's new host:

"It's the first victory, and we put a lot of work into trying to get this to happen," said Francois Navarre, co-owner of L.A.-based X17 agency. His company has filed a suit against Hilton, claiming that Hilton has been using X17 images for nearly a year. "It's a precedent that's huge. When we were talking to Crucial Paradigm they were saying they were not responsible, dragging their feet. We had to threaten them and show them they were liable. His new host is Blogads, and we're contacting them already."

Good on you, x17. There are a lot of things I can tolerate. Not being funny is one of them. So you're not funny. That's OKAY. You're not entertaining at all? At least you're trying. You're stealing copyrighted material? HEY NOW. I'm sure it happens to everyone once or twice. You find a picture you want to use. You try to find the source or the credit. You dig and dig and dig and finally you just post it. What's the worst that can happen? If you can't have it, you'll receive an email asking you to remove it and then you WILL REMOVE IT. Right? Well, right for the rest of us. Unfortunately for the rest of us, there's one great big bedazzled annoyance that won't play nice, and he's finally about to get his ass handed to him. I hope you've sold enough adspace to pay for this lawsuit, Perez. If Jesus loves me as much as my singing angel bear says he does, you are going to need it.


Source: Variety

Mandy Moore: Rhymes With Lying Whore. Sort of.

Mandy Moore, pictured above BREAKING MY HEART, has gone and crossed the line. According to Page Six, Moore will be debuting her new album "Wild Hope" tonight which will feature a song about her ex-boyfriend, Zach Braff:

ARTIST and actress Mandy Moore is fighting back against the famous guys who took advantage of her. Music insiders told Page Six the song "Looking Forward to Looking Back" on her "Wild Hope" album is about her "toxic" ex-boyfriend, Zach Braff. "There are references to his Hollywood Hills home in the song," said one tipster. "We all assume it was about Zach, he was such a cheater." Moore debuts her album at a private live performance at Stereo tonight. Reps for Braff did not return calls.

I actually screamed at my monitor, gang. This was a tough call. I love them BOTH! I had to write out a list to decide which side I was going to take. Behold:

Mandy Moore:
-Started off among the ranks of Britney and Christina when being a virgin and singing about candy was cool. -10 points (being a virgin is still cool, kids! Go with God)
-Nicholas Sparks film adaptation -20 points (Had it been the Notebook, it would clearly have been PLUS 20 points)
-Guest spot on Scrubs +10 points
-Simpsons voice work +5 points (higher points would have been awarded had this happened when The Simpsons still amused me)
-Saved +10 points (genius)
-American Dreamz +5 points (based solely on reviews)
-License to Wed +5 points based solely on her co-stars (it's probably going to be good if Jim from The Office is in it, right?)
-Dated DJ AM -5 points
Grand total: 0 points.

Zach Braff:
-Scrubs. Six glorious seasons of Scrubs. +20 points
-Garden State +20 points
-The Garden State soundtrack +15 points
-The Last Kiss -20 points (god, the disappointment)
-That new one with Jason Bateman that I haven't seen yet +5 points (possible 15 more once I see it)
-Dated Mandy Moore. -20 points
-The fact that I find him to be really really ridiculously good looking +20 points
Grand total: 35 points

There you have it, gang. The numbers don't lie and I'm reasonably certain that my methodology is flawless. Mandy Moore is a lying whore. Zach Braff can do no wrong, and the wrong he possibly DID do (ahem- The Last Kiss) is easily erased by the fact that I still very much would like to bed that adorable Jew. Don't let Mandy Moore and her little "song" get you down, Zach. Singer/Actresses are so 2003. Obscure bloggers are the new supermodels. Get one while the gettin's good!

Update: Yes, I do intend to continue on pretending that I have read none of the thousands of articles proclaiming Zach Braff to be an ass-grabbing twat of a man whoring it up in the city and giving Jersey a bad(der) name. I love him.

Another Update: Even though Sug has me under constant attack via email for awarding Zach Braff 5 points for a movie I haven't seen, I plan on letting those points stand, as well. I want to have sex with the man. What do you not get about this? ZACH WINS.

Final Update: Yea, okay, fine...it looks like he's a total cunt of a man with a very small portion out of his entire collection of work that can be considered "good" or "viewable" or even "entertaining". FINE. From here on out he moves into the Harry Potter form of celebrity in my book; that is, I shall view him always as JD from Scrubs or as Largeman, his quirky yet tortured role in Garden State. Got it? Zach Braff=bad. JD/Largeman=good. I'm going home.

Source: NY Post

Robin Williams Plans Another Iraq Tour

Robin Williams, shown above doing a half-hearted impression of Lynndie England, is taking another tour in Iraq.

He says, "I was in rehab the last time it came up and so it was a little difficult to go, but I'll probably try and go back in the fall. The heavily-armed audiences are amazing."

Williams also agrees that the soldiers in Iraq certainly don't have an easy time:

"There's a lot of people there who have volunteered and been there way beyond their tours of duty. That's what p**ses me off. There are guys who are broke and who are having their houses repossessed back home and there family's in debt, and they don't let them go home because they can't. Meanwhile, they're in a place where there's nowhere that's safe. Everywhere can be bombed or detonated."

I don't have much to say about this, except that Robin Williams is a phenomenally hairy man. I don't know if the US Army can use that to their advantage (in fact, I have a lot of doubt as to whether the power of Robin Williams' hair can even be harnessed by mere humans), but dammit, they should try. It wouldn't be any more stupid than, say, arming the Sunni insurgents who've been attacking us just because they've promised to be nice.

Unrelated postscript: I love teleconferences where I don't have to contribute, and where I can put my phone on mute.

Source: Glitterati

Eugenics at it's Best

Victoria Beckham has been asked not to make any more babies. Super! Simon Fuller, who has already gained my love and adoration for creating my secret obsession, So You Think You Can Dance, has now gained god-like status after asking that Posh abstain from getting pregnant as well as several other requests intended to shut up and slim up the aging Spice Girls. Fuller’s list of "Dos and Don'ts" is as follows:

1. Do not talk about money that you will potentially earn from the reunion.
2. Talk about memories of the Spice Girls with affection and pride.
3. Do not get into spats between yourselves over plans and decisions – is it worth it?
4. Respect each other’s personal lives and commitments.
5. Respect each other’s views.
6. Raise any queries with Nicki (Chapman) and myself at the scheduled meeting.
7. Do not confirm or deny any rumors until everything is in place.
8. Do not worry about schedules and time — this will all be arranged with everyone in mind.
9. Do not become pregnant –please! (ANI)

In a normal world, babies born to parents with the genes of Victoria and David Beckham would be heralded by trumpeting angels and blessed with their own in utero reality television series. But in this, the best of all possible worlds, Victoria Beckham looks increasingly like a garden gnome and spends her days fashioning miniature leopard print bustiers accompanied by assless diapers for her babies-to-be. Stopping her from reproducing, for any period of time, is the greatest accomplishment made by any englishman since the genesis of the english muffin (gods how i love my nooks and crannies). And even though I know this "reunion" can't last forever, I can spend the two weeks it does endure dreaming of a world where tiny couture-clad babies snapping orders like "Babes, I told you I wanted me milk warmer than this. You're a right git, you know that?" simply don't exist.

Source: Sawf News

Summary Judgment: Entourage

I have to post a little caveat about my review of Entourage, in the interests of full disclosure. I have two roommates, and one of them is in love with Entourage. Remember that South Park episode where Cartman starts writing Christian rock songs by taking love songs and replacing the word "baby" with "Jesus," prompting his producer to say that it seems like Cartman doesn't just love Jesus, but that he's actually in love with Jesus? Yeah, it's like that. He doesn't just love the show, he's in love with it. When 10:00 on Sunday approaches, he goes nuts. He screams the theme song, shouts at one of the other of us to turn off the lights, and explodes if either of us makes any noise. Once he said that Entourage should be twice as long, there should be twice as many episodes, and they should replace every other show on television with it. Another time he said that Entourage gives him a reason to live. No joke. So, like I said, in the interests of full disclosure, the way my roommate goes overboard about the show makes me like it less, irrespective of the show's own qualities.

That having been said, that roommate was away this past Sunday, so I was able to watch the show without secretly hating everything about it. You know what? I'm not that crazy about it anyway.

The episode that aired on Sunday was an interesting experiment, though. The gang headed down to South America to film their new movie Medellin, about the drug lord Pablo Escobar. The episode was framed as a documentary film about the making of Medellin by an unseen British filmmaker, and it was a welcome departure from the normal style of the show (though not always consistent--it didn't make sense to intersperse the footage with clips of Ari back in L.A.). The production was plagued with the problems of Billy Walsh, the explosive director. Compromises were made, things exploded, etc. There really isn't much to say about it, besides that they made a movie.

But overall, I was left with one big impression: Medellin looks like it blows. The scenes they showed didn't look very good. The prosthetics fitted to Adrian Grenier's Vincent Chase to enable him to play the chubby Pablo Escobar were laughable. Eric and Vince were running around through the whole third season of this show chasing Medellin like it was some kind of holy grail, but from what I saw in this episode, it really looks like something that could have been a made-for-TV movie. On Telemundo. Between Sabado Gigante and a telenovela. Would it have killed them to make the movie at least look like something I'd want to see?

I'll keep watching, because I have nothing else to do on Sunday nights. Now that I can watch TV on my computer, I'll probably do that instead of having to endure my roommate's masturbatory exclamations of the show's greatness. But it doesn't mean I'll like it any better.

John Travolta Is as Crazy as Tom Cruise

John Travolta, shown above reminding us that we should have fucking known that he's crazy, has decided that criminal neglect of his autistic son hasn't made him enough of a pariah. He's going for Tom Cruise levels of outcast here.

"I don't disagree with anything Tom says," Travolta offers on the subject of Cruise's tirade against psychiatric medications. "How would I have presented it? Maybe differently than how he did, but it doesn't matter. I still think that if you analyze most of the school shootings, it is not gun control. It is [psychotropic] drugs at the bottom of it. I don't want to create controversy; I just have an opinion on things, and there is nothing wrong with stating your opinion if you are asked. Everyone wants that right, and because you are famous doesn't mean you have less of a right."

I don't disagree that being famous takes away your right to state your opinion. You know what does take away your right to state your opinion? Having the opinions that John Travolta and Tom Cruise have. That should disqualify you automatically.

Also, I was unaware that the debate on school shootings had only two sides: gun control vs. psychiatry. Thank you, John Travolta, for making yourself as hard to take seriously as our good buddy Tom.

Source: W Magazine

Vacations Are Fun

I spent four days in Connecticut. Jealous? You should be. I spent the rent on Lush and drank lots of things. Twas good. I plan on relieving Sug of his duties today, since he's dying of either the Superflu or SARS and has been on his own here for several days. I just need a bit of time here to catch up on what I missed while I was in the gossip-free zone for the weekend, and possibly some time to do work at my really real job. Stay tuned, kiddos. I've missed you.

Summary Judgment: John from Cincinnati

I know this show was on Sunday, but I've been sick and it's taken me a little while to get my thoughts together on it, so back off.

Sunday marked the second episode of John from Cincinnati, which premiered on HBO right after the contentious finale of The Sopranos. When I first saw the series premiere, I wasn't at all sure what to think. It's dense, mystical, mysterious, and at this point nearly incomprehensible. Lemme give you a rundown.

JFC focuses on the Yost family. Bruce Greenwood plays Mitch Yost, the family's patriarch. He was a surfing legend in his own day, but a knee injury sidelined him 20 years before the events of the show take place. His son, Butchie Yost (played by Brian Holt), was a revolutionary surfer in his own right before he was sidelined by his uncontrollable drug addiction. Mitch blames Butchie's downfall on Linc Perry, a ruthless surfing agent played by Luke Perry. Butchie's son, Shaun Yost is an up-and-coming surfer (played by up-and-coming surfer Greyson Fletcher), but Mitch is determined not to let the cutthroat world of professional surfing do to Shaun what it did to Butchie.

Also, Mitch floats a couple of inches in the air occasionally, and there's a bird that can come back from the dead, apparently.

Yeah.

There's a couple of other, less prominent players. Bill, a retired cop and family friend to the Yosts, is played by Ed O'Neill (better known as Al Bundy). The Yost family matriarch, Mitch's wife Cissy, is played by Rebecca DeMornay. As a grandmother. Weird. Luis Guzman and Willie Garson are caretakers of the sleazy motel where Butchie squats.

Then there's the eponymous John, pictured at the top of this post. He appears out of nowhere near the border, with pockets full of exactly as much money as he needs whenever he happens to need it, and each character is so self-involved that they fail to see just how goddamn weird John really is.

That's about as short an explanation as I can give, and it still doesn't really begin to cover everything that happened in the show's first two episodes. And everything that happens in those first two episodes doesn't really begin to cover, well, much of anything.

But I've decided, upon multiple viewings, that I like it. I like it quite a bit, actually. It's inscrutable and maddening at this point, but that brings to mind one of my all-time favorite shows, cancelled too early by HBO: Carnivale. For those who watched Carnivale, did we know anything, really, by the second episode of the series? Shit, no. But we stuck with it and were richly rewarded, until the bastards yanked it from the air.

JFC gives me the same feeling, of a deep and rich mythos lurking just under the surface. I could be dead wrong, and I'll freely admit it if I am. But I really feel that this isn't the type of show you can write off without making the commitment to watch at least 5 or 6 episodes. Maybe even the whole first season.

Damn. Now I wanna go watch Carnivale again.

Kristy Swanson Arrested, Nobody Cares

I hear people used to care about Kristy Swanson. I don't know who those people are, but their myth is perpetuated by this People Magazine story:

Skating with Celebrities star Kristy Swanson was arrested late Saturday night for allegedly assaulting the ex-wife of her companion and former skating partner, Lloyd Eisler, Swanson tells PEOPLE.

"I had to go the police station where I had an appointment at 9 p.m. to begin the process of being arrested," she confirms.

Dude, is Canada really that laid back? Like, you assault somebody, and they give you an appointment to go down to the police station not to be arrested, but to begin the process of being arrested? Man, it sounds like a paradise. None of this "You're under arrest" nonsense the cops give me in Jersey, when all I'm really trying to do is get a better view into my neighbor's window. Who does that really hurt? Only me, when the taser comes out, that's who.

Source: People

Our Culture Is Dead

I can't bring myself to be anything but pissed about this. They're making Monopoly into a movie. Yeah, the board game.

FILM director Ridley Scott is preparing the most unlikely movie of his career: a feature-length version of the venerable board game Monopoly.

The 69-year-old British film-maker, whose hits include Gladiator and Black Hawk Down, has been offered the pick of young actors to help turn the property game into a comedy thriller.

William Morris, the oldest theatrical agency in Hollywood, has promised Hasbro, which owns Parker Brothers, the manufacturer of Monopoly in the US, that the cream of its stable of 2000 actors will help create a blockbuster movie.

Scarlett Johansson and Kirsten Dunst are being considered for roles. Hasbro, which claims that Monopoly has been played by 750 million people since the 1930s, wants the film to feature "sexy young people" in an attempt to attract teenagers to board games.

I don't really care about Gladiator or Black Hawk Down, because I didn't like them, but Ridley Scott made Alien, and that movie is amazing. To see a man brought so low by our least-common-denominator society that he's preparing to adapt a board game into a film is truly a depressing thing.

On the other hand, if it's successful, maybe I'll have more luck getting people to take my Hungry Hungry Hippos script seriously.

Source: News.com.au

Justin Timberlake Wields Ungodly Powers of Restraint

Justin Timberlake, shown above at the opening of Frontierland's disco, isn't human. I swear to God. Just read this.

The pop heart-throb called Jessica [Biel], 25, his "very dear friend" and said she texts him all the time. But when asked who the love of his life is, he replied: "I haven't met her yet." Ouch!

And although he claimed he couldn't say no to her "pretty face" when she asked to accompany him to Europe while he toured with his FutureSex/ LoveShow, he has now put his foot down and told her it's business before pleasure...

Justin said: "She truly insisted that she came with me on tour. I don't know how to say no to a pretty face. But it wasn't really a good idea. This time I'm putting the machine before everything else. Jessica met up with me in Manchester, but for Paris I told her categorically no. This tour is very important for me. I'm doing it really seriously so there's no question of playing sweethearts!"

Yeah, you read that correctly. Jessica Biel came up to this guy and begged him to come along and fool around with him for his whole tour, and he said no. That doesn't even compute to me. They should bottle some of JT's inhuman powers of self-control for people on diets. If a fat person could look at a sleeve of Oreos and show the same restraint, we'd be a better, slimmer society.

Source: A Socialite's Life

Judge This...

The monchichi's turn 21- Cele|bitchy

The funniest thing Eddie Murphy has done since the 80's: Scary Spice- Phatlaw

Joss Stone wants to wear flannel and work boots- Fatback and Collards

Halle Berry: "The tattoo on my ass wasn't a good idea." Don't I know it, honey- agentbedhead

Hasselhoff wins the kids! Open bar till 2! Hollywood Offender

Photog had to finish off his role of film, took pictures of Sara Gilbert- ICYDK

Even this doesn't stop me loving Amy Winehouse- The Rad Report

"Dude, there is no way we can do infinity push ups"...A post about a push up contest between Kelly Ripa and Jeremy Piven which I used, cheaply, to add another notch in our Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey archives. Score!- Allie is Wired

Dear Heidi Montag,
We still don't care about you, or your fake boobs, or the way you parade your fake boobs around on the beach in front of paparazzi who got in trouble for missing the Paris/police car shot and are now assigned to covering you until their punishment period is up. Please purchase a blouse.
Thanks ever so much,
EVERYONE
-The Evil Beet

When you're really good looking, God gives you an ugly baby. Read yer bible, Ben Affleck- Tasteful Society

Disney Pisses Off China. The Country. Not The Old Scary Wrestler Lady.

I know few things about China. I know they have pandas there, and they won't even let you have one. They won't even let the ZOO have one, they just loan them out and then ask for them back after your lease is up. I also know that you can't just call them and ask if you can have one of the pandas on a private lease. They won't do that. They won't answer you in English, either. Other things I know about China: I know that Sug was in a Chinese newspaper where he was misquoted as a European tourist. I know that the Chinese people craft busts in the likeness of Condoleeza Rice and try to sell them to tourists. I know that the winner of my boss's phone is from China. Oh, and I know that they're RED. And being RED, that means I'm scared of them even though Sug tells me I don't have any good reason to be. My earliest memories begin with Jimmy Carter, Ronald Reagan, and a distinct childhood fear of "Soviets" and "Communists" though I didn't know who or what they were or why I was afraid of them, only that they kidnapped Trautman which meant Rambo had to go on yet another mission in which he totally did NOT want to be involved. That fear, like clowns, crickets, and culottes, has stayed with me through adulthood. So it is with great trepidation that I report that we have PISSED OFF THE CHINESE:

Censors have cut scenes of Chow Yun-Fat as a bald, scarred pirate in the new "Pirates of the Caribbean" movie, saying they insult China's people, the main state news agency said Friday.

Xinhua quoted Zhang Pimin, deputy head of the film bureau under the State Administration of Radio, Film and Television, as saying the decision to cut the scenes was made according to China's "relevant regulations on film censorship" and "China's actual conditions."

He refused to give specific reasons for the cuts, but Xinhua quoted a Chinese magazine, Popular Cinema, as saying the scenes were cut because of the negative images they showed.

"The captain starring Chow is bald, his face heavily scarred, he also wears a long beard and has long nails, images still in line with Hollywood's old tradition of demonizing the Chinese," the magazine said.

We demonized the Chinese?! Why? Why would we DO that? When I was little and would have one of my "the Communists are coming!" nightmares (they always parachuted or helicoptered in, and Radar always came running into the mess tent to alert me to their imminent arrival...I watched a lot of M*A*S*H reruns with my dad when I was little, incidentally) I would quickly grab my gear and rush off to the bomb shelter and then burst into song with Louis DaMucci (I watched Grease 2 a lot, too) and then I would wake up and go have breakfast. By the time I'd finished slurping up my pink Fruity Pebbles milk, the Communists were just a distant memory and I could happily go about my day of skipping about and playing Danger Mouse with my big brother. By Christ I hope Disney says or does something to fix this before my cartoons start tomorrow morning. Not because I still harbor an irrational fear of communism, (which apparently I do, but that's secondary) but because they control the pandas. And if Disney did something to fuck up my pending panda lease, Disney is going to pay. Oh yes, they will pay.

Source: AP

Katie's Allowed Sharp Objects Again

My hair has moods. For awhile, my hair was feeling very Lindsay Lohan-ish. I ran with it- what my hair wants, my hair gets. For months I did flowy waves, occasionally pinned back loosely at the sides. When it wasn't feeling Lindsay in that cut, it usually felt a bit Mary Kate Olsen. Or Ashley. Either, really. What I mean is it felt stringy and messy. On frizzy days it wanted to be Sarah Jessica Parker. After I got it cut last month, it was only left with two moods: Tina Fey or New Becky (Connor. From Roseanne. Or Dr. Elliott Reed, from Scrubs. Whichever you prefer.) Longish wispy not-quite bangs treated to a daily flat-ironing, that's what my hair feels these days. I understand the need to listen to your hair. I embrace the wants and needs of my tresses. When they say "enough with the highlights!" I allow them to be treated to a delicious bath in some chocolate-y dye and return them to their natural dark roots. When they say "oi! We feel so heavy! And dry!" I cut them and allow them the freedom to go days with neither styling nor product. I respect my tresses, and in return my tresses respect me. We each trust the judgment of the other (my hair has, in fact, forgiven me and regained its trust of me since the horrible bleaching years that befell it in the late 90's/early 00's) and we coexist happily together, hair and head, in what I hope to be a lifelong relationship.

Katie Holmes should not trust her hair. Her hair has fallen prey to the scientologists. Or the British. Or her hair is just plain sick and tired of being attached to her head so it is steering her off in the wrong direction. Her hair made her do this:



All the buzz is that Katie chopped her previously single-minded tresses (they were always feeling Joey Potter, weren't they? And Joey Potter was a GOOD mood for her hair to be in) into a more Posh-inspired look. Except, um...well it's not so much Posh as it is this:



and now that I think about it, doesn't it also feel an awful lot like this:



What I'm saying, I suppose, is that if you're going to lead your scissor in whatever direction your hair is telling you, you ought to first check and make sure said direction does not leave you looking like a sickly spray tanned British tart or one of any given number of 80's teen movie cast members. You should stop and talk your hair out of this. You should slap your hair if it continues to insist upon bringing your look into any of the aforementioned categories. We're all suckers for the overly-dramatic movie scene wherein the trapped and abused wife of an overbearing and publicly ridiculed asylum escapee grabs for her conveniently placed cutting sheers and defiles her locks in one final attempt at rebellion. But honestly, dear, did you have to dramatically snip in so many peculiar layers?

Source: Daily Mail

Nicole Richie Won't Make You Pull Out

I went shopping last night. I bought the kind of dress that would lead people to speculate that I might be hiding a baby bump. I bought the dress, not because I'm hiding a baby bump, but because nobody who might see me in it would care to speculate if I were or not (which I'm not, in case there's any question) and it's a fabulous dress which was ridiculously marked down. I couldn't afford NOT to buy it.

Nicole Richie was photographed wearing just that sort of dress, and I'm starting to buy into the rumor that she is, in fact, knocked up. Not just because she wore a belly-concealing dress, but because she's starting to look human again. You can no longer see her caved in chest that reminds you to make your monthly payment to the Save the Children Fund. Her shoulder blades no longer make you wish you could time travel just this once and feel the wind in your hair whilst atop the back of a glorious pterodactyl. Her legs appear to have left the dangerous newborn deer territory they were wading into, and she has breasts now. Actual breasts. Long gone is the Skipper doll cleavage we've all grown to know and love. The verdict, clearly, is that Nicole Richie has either taken to the "double bacon cheeseburger and sac o' vinegar fries from Five Guys" diet that has me teetering over the edge of my dress size, or she got so engrossed in watching Conan mid-coitus (try it, you'll like it) that she forgot to hop off before the whistle blew. Congratulations, Nicole and famous emo guy whose name I don't know.

P.S. This baby's going to look like a fucking howler monkey.

Source and Pictures: Celebrity Babylon

Please Approach The Bench: Daniel Radcliffe

New Features...

You've probably noticed that we've slowed down a bit in these parts. There's a few reasons for this, and I'm gonna lay them out for you here:

1) We're looking at changing our host (see here for further details on this). Because of this, we've been screwing around on the dummy blog on the new host a bit, and it's taking away from posting time.

2) We're working on doing some new and fantastic things around here. Stay tuned for one of those tonight, in a new segment we're calling "Please Approach The Bench." Trust me when I tell you that you will NOT be disappointed. We're also working on a reader mail portion for our programming (so get your questions, comments, and adorable pictures of baby otters in NOW!) and are toying around with several other ideas to make things different around here. We know how many gossip blogs there are out there, and we appreciate those of you who take the time to visit ours each and every day. What we don't want to do to you is hand you the same story about Paris Hilton with the same joke about Paris Hilton that you've already read on seven different blogs before arriving here. Will we still cover Paris and her debauchery? Yes, but really, is there any need to saturate you in it? We think not.

3) We've actually just been damn busy. Sug has an extremely important job. That's what he tells me, anyway. He's an important genius, okay? Aside from being an important genius professionally, he shares his genius with the masses and tutors quite regularly. And me? My job keeps having, like, these expectations of me lately. I've been working too much and not spending as much time with my family as I'd like. All of this adds up to a decline in our posting time. Yet you all continue to come back, more and more of you each day, and for that we honestly do thank you. We promise to continue giving you quality and, when we can, quality in higher quantities. What we will NOT do is rush through a post and put something half assed or, worse yet, plagiarized here just to fill space. That's just not us. We started a blog because we have things to say. Mean things about people we don't rightly know. That desire to speak badly about others still burns deeply within each of us, and shan't be burning out anytime soon.

Mr. Wizard Is Dead

Don Herbert, known better as Mr. Wizard and shown above crushing half the population of Asia, has died. He was 89 years old.

Herbert died at his home in Bell Canyon after a long battle with multiple myeloma, said Tom Nikosey, Herbert's son-in-law.

I loved watching Mr. Wizard when I was little. I even used to watch it in high school sometimes, on days when I couldn't sleep past 5 a.m. (side note: if I couldn't sleep past 5 a.m. today, I think I might kill myself). It was a really informative show, and those kids who were also on You Can't Do That on Television amused me. Especially Alistair. I was always like, "C'mon, dude, that's not a real name."

I'm gonna be honest, though. It surprised me very much to read this story today. Why? Because I was positive Don Herbert was already dead. Like, at least 10 years dead. I actually just thought of him the other day for no good reason, and I thought, "Boy, I wish he was still alive. That was a neat show." Turns out he was alive this whole time. Oh well. At least we know Abe Vigoda's lifeless corpse is firmly interred in the ground, where it belongs.

UPDATE: Oh, shit.

Source: L.A. Times

We're Movin on Up

So listen, gang. We've been discussing our options regarding the hosting of our fair site, and we're leaning heavily toward switching to Wordpress and leaving dear Blogger here behind. Wordpress allows us a lot more options with our laytout than we have with Blogger. There are some other options that we find superduper which would make linking/archiving a lot easier on us. And to be honest, it just plain looks better and has a better chance of landing us starring roles on General Hospital some day. How? I'm not entirely sure, but if it's gonna happen, Wordpress is gonna play a role in it, of that much I am certain.

The only downside we've found to this switch so far is that all of the existing comments will be lost. We currently run our comments off of haloscan, and we won't have that option with Wordpress. We're reasonably certain that there will be no other changes to you, our readers, involved. We already own the domain, so we'll just be switching it to a new host. We're still in the planning stages and haven't signed any dotted lines just yet. We have a designer playing with the code to see if we can make things look how we'd like them to before making our final decision. SO...if you have a problem with the change, now's the time to let us know. If, say, Wordpress killed your mother and/or one or more of your children, we'd really like to know about that. We think the change will make the site nicer to look at and easier to navigate, but we want your input, so tell us what you think. Seriously. Fucking tell us.

Judge This...

I'm not the only one who wishes Kelly Clarkson would swallow a knife- Mollygood

Britney and K-Fed might be back together, and I might start supporting government enforced sterilization of the stupid.- Fatback and Collards

Paris was only pretending to be dumb. Similarly, I was only pretending to arrange that prisonyard gang rape that will happen at 1:15 tomorrow - Tasteful Society

Posh is goddamn ridiculous- Hollywood Offender

Sharon Stone is topless. You're gonna look aren't you, you sick bastard?- IDLYITW

Gay Bomb. Seriously.- What I Missed

Oh, Uma. Why? Just tell me WHY- Yeeeah!

Justin Timberlake stole my dad's jacket. Oh, yea, and he's with Cameron Diaz for more Shrek stuff, too.- The Evil Beet

Summary Judgment: The Sopranos Finale

The Sopranos, shown above in a more innocent time, ended its eight year, six season run on Sunday. I'm not going to give a blow-by-blow account of what happened, but if you haven't seen it and don't want to know what happens, stop reading. Now.

First off, there's one cool little detail, for me. The scene where Phil Leotardo was killed was filmed about ten minutes from my house. If you look over his shoulder in one of the shots, you can see a Barnes & Noble in the background. I was there yesterday trying to buy some books. Bastards didn't have what I was looking for, though, so I had to go to Borders. Even they didn't have everything I wanted. This is why online shopping is the way to go. But I digress. Horribly.

The big buzz is about the ending of the episode. Truly, not that much really happened, besides Phil's death. But that ending really served to piss people off. I'll recap for those who didn't see it but want to know what I'm talking about. Tony went into a diner and started fiddling with the jukebox, looking at a bunch of cool old songs before finally settling on Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'." The fact that Ton' went for the Journey over everything else shows, in the words of my dad, that he's still just a goombah. As the power ballad plays, we see some shady characters ominously entering the diner, as well as Tony's family. Carmela joins him, as does A.J. We're treated to a long sequence of shots of Meadow trying and failing to parallel park. Everything seems so ominous, and we're reminded (even if unconsciously) of the "Layla" scene in Goodfellas, where the power ballad plays under shot after shot of gruesome death. Will that guy who walked into the bathroom kill the whole family? Is Meadow gonna get hit by a car? What's with that guy sitting at the counter? And then, without warning, it ends.

Just like that.

Middle of the song, middle of the scene, Tony looks up, we hear Steve Perry wailing, "Don't stop--" and the screen goes black. I suspect that every viewer in the country did the requisite check to see if his or her cable went out, as I did, but no. That was it. Black for about 10 seconds, followed by silent credits.

The cries of "Worst Finale Ever" were widespread and immediate. But as I thought about it, I realized that I liked it more and more. As somebody somewhere else put it (I forget where), the Sopranos' lives will continue. We just won't get to see it anymore. Sometimes this is the way things go. Not everything ends with somebody getting whacked. Most brilliantly of all, though, I think, the viewer's sense of ominous portent during that last scene mirrors the paranoia that Tony likely feels, and will feel for the rest of his life, however long or short that may be. Just as we thought somebody must be coming to kill him, he must look at the world like that every minute of every hour of every day.

A lot of those who were dissatisfied with the ending, though, just didn't get that this was more than a mob show. It was also a show about Tony's family, and it's entirely fitting that it end with something so mundane as he, his wife, and his kids enjoying a meal at a diner (something which is so quintessentially Jersey, by the way).

To sum up, I think that people who were immediately and vocally pissed off about the ending aren't voicing their displeasure at what happened. Rather, they're voicing displeasure at the fact that they didn't get the bloodbath they wanted. But what they got, if they watch it for what it is, is so much more fitting.

Source: People

I Love The Internet

Long ago and far away, some friends and I began the habit of spamming innocent messageboards. It started off small, just two of us attacking a Lord of the Rings website. We expanded and added Sug on our second expedition, and I wish with all my heart that I could remember the site which was our target that round. After this attack, our group expanded, and we were a 6-10 man group going in and racing to be banned. Why? Why not, I ask you. There was a clown board, a goddess board, a vampire board (we never did get banned from that one) and one very special board where I held the screen name "claynal." That's right, it was a Clay Aiken messageboard where the highlight of my half hour of allowed posting time included spamming a picture thread with tubgirl. Proud? Not really. Amused? Indeed, especially today since that very messageboard has made Page Six:

THERE'S a civil war among the Claymates in Claynation. Clay Aiken's rabid fans - who call themselves "Claymates" and say they live in "Claynation" - are at odds with each other over their former Idol. An insider said, "The war is between the batty members that are still clinging to their heterosexual fantasies of him and others that don't harbor such illusions." Aiken's sexuality has been a subject of speculation ever since several men came out publicly and said they'd met him in gay chat rooms and had relations with him. Aiken has always refused to discuss his inclinations. The Claymates' clash got so bad that the Official Fan Club at clayonline.com completely suspended its message board and noted, "Due to reports of extensive unrest and disrespect amongst members that has been carrying on for several weeks, the Official Fan Club Message Board will be shut down until further notice. Please note that should tensions continue on other areas of the fan club, severe consequences may occur." Let's hope they can get it back up soon!

I don't have much to say about this, really. Do I think it's ridiculous that there's still any question as to Clay Aiken's sexuality? Yes, entirely. He's gay. So so very gay. Show a guy named Fantastically Gay Christopher a picture of Clay Aiken, and you know what Fantastically Gay Christopher will say? "Damn he's SO gay," that's what. But who am I to crush the fantasies of 14 year old easy listening fans everywhere? I won't even try to hide the fact that I own his Christmas album from you. That boy was born to sing about Jesus, that's the damn truth and I'm not ashamed to tell you about it. What I am ashamed of is that I didn't have the foresight to just post "Clay is gay," two years ago which would have made me Page Six news. *le sigh* There's always next time...

Source: New York Post