Amusing Ourselves to Death

All About Me

2006-06-26T11:56:00.000-05:00

The first time I saw Nicole Kidman was in My Life, which I had gone to see with my best friend at the time. This was some 13 years ago. And using all the 13 years of critiquing experience I had at the time I had decided she was one of the worst actresses I had ever seen. She talked wierd, she had big deer in headlight eyes, she didn't know what to do with her hands...she wasn't good. After that, I didn't give much thought to her.

I changed my mind the first time I saw To Die For. It was one of the most perfect casting choices I have ever seen. And, I have kept the opinion she is one of the coolest, classiest, most awesome people ever since that movie. I even go so far as to watch movies that I don't like on principal just because she is in it (see The Human Stain or Birth). There are times when I think she can do no wrong.

Now, my opinion on the new breed of "country" musicians:

Just because you can sing with a fake southern twang and wear a cowboy hat does not make you a cowboy nor a country singer. A pop beat to your "I love my daddy," "I love my daughter," "I love America," song does not make a true, heartbreaking country track. If you are from another country (i.e. Canada, for Christ's sake, or Australia) then you have absolutley no business singing American Southern music. You're a fake, a phony and worse yet, ANNOYING.

So let's put these two together and break my little, charcoaled heart.

Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban got married last weekend. Nicole Kidman, the classiest of ladies, got married to a frosted haired, perma-stubbeled, spray on tanned, super queer. Nicole, why didn't you call me? Ugh. I had dreamed of so much better for you...you were supposed to wed some handsome business tycoon and slowly fade out of the spotlight while doing charity work and being guests of honor at big state dinners. Not spend your days listening to Urban sing such ditties as "You look good in my shirt," or "Some days you gotta dance," whilst swapping eyeliner tips.

I hate you Keith.

You have soiled one of my favorite actresses.

May your vocal chords shrivel up and blow away.

...wait...What?

2006-06-26T11:43:00.000-05:00

In this week's, nay, year's most astounding, jaw dropping news it looks like Backstreet Boys' geriatric member Kevin Richardson is, uh, quitting...?

I have a frown on my face right now. This is the look I get when I'm confused and irritated. Do the Backstreet Boys still exist? Do they still make music? Is there anything for Kevin to quit? Couldn't he just, like, not show up to the group's weekly bar/karoke night? Wouldn't the other members just get the hint?

Doesn't a band fading out count as not news worthy anymore?

(Apparently, Kevin's the douche in the middle.)

So many questions. So not enough interest to continue.

Geez, I Suck

2006-06-26T11:38:00.000-05:00

Yeah. I haven't kept up. I have been reading and thinking about all the loonies of Hollywood but I haven't gotten around to typing it up and being productive.

I'm settled into my new job now and should have little excuse to keep up this little hobby...

So here we go again.

I Give Up, You Win

2006-05-09T12:17:00.000-05:00

Masterful moron, David Blain, may not have succeeded in his latest feat of endurance this week, but he did succeed in getting me to write a post about him. I tried hard. I fought it. But I can't fight anymore, I'm weak, I tell you, weak. I must discuss this supreme jackass.

Blain is a magician. By all definition this should mean that he lives in his parent's basement for the rest of his life. He should be a virgin until he is 45 when he finally breaks down and meets a girl from the internet who is just as socially retarded as he. The relationship should last about 17 minutes altogether, including dinner and foreplay. He should earn money by selling comic books on EBay and working a part time job at Blockbuster. He should have one good friend, and that friend will be some sort of feline. His mom should cook dinner for him every night and his father should shout obscene alcoholic rants from the top of the basement steps about how he should "be a man!" and "grow some balls!"

This should be the life for any magician. But, not David Blain, noooooo, he had to be the cool magician.

His most recent waste of time was to spend a week submerged in the bottom of a fish tank. He has trained since December 2005 in order to endure the waterlogged trial of stubbornness with Navy Seals (all of whom I'm sure had nothing better to do than help a scrawny little peckerwood prove to his Daddy that he was indeed good enough to be born). He lost about 50 pounds, disobeyed doctors orders when they told him that his liver was failing ('cause you don't need that or anything) and still failed to stay in the water as long as he wanted. And for what? To say that he did it, of course. To say, "Well, I'm sure that giving birth is terrible, but how do you think I felt when I was a goldfish for a week?"

The thing that I really grinds my gears is the resources that are used in order to keep this man in glass boxes and in the newspapers. The people who have to help him prepare, the doctors, nurses, critical care personnel utilized just to make sure this man does not die due to a stunt he created himself. People all over the world are in real life peril. Human beings are starving, suffering, dying and praying to God that they can make it through another day all the while this douche is burying himself alive and living in water. The he has the balls to come out of his cages all "Ohh, I don't feel good. Will you guys hold me up? I think I might need some medical assistance."

I wish I could get everyone the world over and say, "Hey, let's not support David Blaine. Lets make him a pox on this century and move along." I know it's not going to happen. And, yep, I still give up.

Gina's Obsession

2006-04-27T17:42:00.000-05:00

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SPECIAL POST DISCLAIMER:

Gina returns to her special post to reveal a darkly beautiful obsession:

Alec Baldwin.

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In an interesting bit of news, recently, stage actress Jan Maxwell left the Roundabout Theatre Company’s production of “Entertaining Mr. Sloane”. I know, I know, why do we care? When was the last time a proper pop culture addict breathlessly relayed gossip about a fracas at a tiny, non-famous, theatre troupe?

When the reason the actress left is named Alec Motherfucking Baldwin.

Apparently, Ms. Maxwell has been living underneath a rock for the past 15 years or so (which, incidentally, is the last time Alec Baldwin played a nice guy believably.) and expected her co-star to, like, not yell at her and berate her and shit.

Oh, Jan. Oh poor, naïve, Jan.

An email was leaked to the New York Post in which Ms. Maxwell revealed that Baldwin had endangered her physical safety, mental health, and artistic integrity. That he was “throwing things around with all of us cowering”, and that he gave the theatre an ultimatum. Her or him.

As we don’t all remember Jan Maxwell’s stunning, perfect performance in Glen Gary Glen Ross, naturally, she was given the axe.

Of course, the theatre denies any such incident, coupled with an issued statement from Maxwell claiming she is saddened a private email was made public, although, my guess is she leaked it herself. (well played, Maxwell, but do not think for three seconds that you can outfox the Baldwin.) Alec has yet to comment, but if I know him like I think I do, it will be a short matter of time before we get the standard Baldwin denial that goes basically like this: “Bitch be crazy, and I didn’t do anything wrong.” Just like how his ex-wife, Kim Basinger, was crazy.

You know, crazy.

Not abused.

Crazy.

In a way, I can’t help that Jan Maxwell brought this upon herself. If she had viewed the highlights of the Baldwin catalog, she would have discovered what I did long ago.

Nobody plays an asshole that well without actually being an asshole.

As Hollywood’s all time, number one, asshole, Alec Baldwin has built a career both playing and playing off his ability to be an unparalleled dickhead. A man cannot attain such an astounding level of abusive prick-hood without a lot of practice. And real-life, practical application.

Jan, I wish you could have called me. I could have given you such great advice for dealing with unrepentant assholes. I know it may be too late for you, but may I present for the future,

Three Key Elements to Dealing With An Asshole

You are probably asking yourself, “What makes this girl qualified?” Well, let me tell you, I’ve dated assholes, worked with assholes, worked for assholes, lived with assholes, been friends with assholes, and even, was raised by an asshole. I know assholes. Trust me.

1. Speak When Spoken to, and Do Not Make Direct Eye Contact.: If the asshole cannot see you or hear you, then s/he might forget you are around and therefore will not be able to scream at you about your incompetence, lack of talent, weight, facial features, ethnicity, lack of proper dental hygiene, body odor, stupidity, commonness, socio-economic status, hook arm, goggle eyes, and etc.

2. It’s Not a Matter of Whether or Not an Asshole Will Throw Something at You, It’s a Matter of When.: Never assume that an asshole isn’t capable of violence, no matter how docile or harmless they seem. Even the most weak and frail of assholes can still manage to stab you in the eye with a pencil, or throw a ten pound paperweight at your soft, vulnerable, skull. Learn to hone and trust your instincts. Does the asshole have a twitchy hand? Are they making their way over to the mantle, universal home of pointy, easily thrown, knickknacks? A smart victim learns when to take cover and hope for the best.

3. The Asshole is Right. Even When They are Maddeningly, Infuriatingly, Wrong.: If the asshole in your life tells you that the world is flat, a victim who wants to come out roses not only agrees to his aggressor’s face, but also behind his back. Why? Because this is where an asshole differs from a bully. A bully, once confronted, will generally back off. For example, A bully might say “The world is flat.” to which your reply would be “Not it’s not, you fucking moron. Do you even know how to read?” This zinger would be enough to send a mere bully sulking away with his tail between his legs. Not an asshole. Oh, no, not an asshole. When the asshole says “The world is flat” he knows that this is untrue, and is merely goading you into a trap of disagreement that will eventually climax in screaming, tears, and projectiles. Cut that asshole off at the pass. Bend over, spread, and give me a hearty and semi-sincere, “Yes, sir! I totally agree sir!”

That wraps up our lesson for today. While I know that I cannot help the abused minions of Alec Baldwin’s past, but I can dream that I may make life better for his future punching bags…I mean co-stars.

Keep on Loving Each Other,

Gina

Declaration of Independence

2006-04-26T16:48:00.000-05:00

For all of us nosy assholes who are sick and tired (as sick and tired as reading about another David Blaine magic trick) of divorcing celebrities always declaring "irreconcilable differences" in their divorce papers, instead of divulging their innermost realm of secret secrets to us mass of strangers, may I present to you the beautifully written, sure to be Pulitzer prize winning, 17 paged "Declaration of Denise Richards."

This is not a divorce decree or even divorce papers...this my friends...is so far better it makes my teeth hurt with delight!

In this document Denise opens that whale sized lipped mouth of hers and we are told EVERYTHING. Down to the nitty gritty details. This makes up for Jen/Brad, Renee/Kenny, Tom/Nicole (although, that one is becoming more and more obvious), and Jessica/Nick ten times over. God bless you, Denise! Lets go through some of the key points.

1. The man has a serious gambling/drinking/pillpopping/sleeping with whores kinda problem. According to Denise, its all the man ever does. I don't understand how he has any energy to do all the other stuff she accuses him of because, damn!, he's busy.

2. He has threatened to kill her, her parents and her lawyer. He also told her he wishes she gets breast cancer and dies. Now, to be fair, cancer wouldn't be any worse than being killed by her insane, drug addled husband.

3. He became fascinated with the Nicole Brown murder. He even showed a picture of her body at the crime scene to Denise and Denise's mother.
He could have just been being funny, like, "ha ha see what happens when you don't listen to your husband," but still. I think its in bad taste.

4. He wanted Denise to have an abortion when she got pregnant with her first child with the excuse he wasn't ready to be a father. This one? I'm gonna take Charlie's side.

5. He became crazed when he found out that his daughter was getting childhood shots, accusing Denise of trying to poison the daughter he never even wanted, and he would not let Denise take the kid to the doctor. Then he phoned the doctor and screamed profanity at her so expertly that the doctor refused to see the kid again.

6. After Denise threw him out of the house, yet again, she let him back in so they could talk about the child arrangement. While she was holding her youngest daughter, Charlie became angry and pushed Denise over with child in hand and told her he wished she would just die. He's really not very creative, is he?

7. He has prostitutes over at his house while he has his court appointed time with his daughters. I guess they help watch the girls? Do you get paid extra for that?

8. Child porn. Not just girl child porn, but young boy, child porn. Charlie Sheen looks up child porn on the internet.

The best part of the document is the side evidence displaying six phone voicemails from Charlie to Denise. Heavily peppered with "you're a n****r","rot in hell," "piece of shit," "fuck you" and "fuck this" and just plain "fuck" they are the only part of this document that actually puts a the humanity in Charlie. And his humanity is such that you just can't imagine how someone hasn't put a bullet in his head long ago.

I want to present my favorite phone message. This one seemed so genuine and sincere, very much unlike the other messages where you could hear the screaming while reading. So, yeah, it seemed like he was being halfway decent... all the way until the end:

Hey I am going to go home early so if you wanted to come back early go ahead. I hate to leave early and then you come home and then I hear from Laura [lawyer]in a letter that costs me, you know, five grand that you know, I didn't let you know, I was leaving. So I gonna leave early. Okay? Dick face. That's what I'm gonna do. Good-bye.

It reads like a love letter I once received.

Memories.

Who Would Have 'Effin Thought?

2006-04-12T12:50:00.000-05:00

First thing I learned this week: India is a fascinating place with many fascinating people. But those people are fucking CRAZY ASS CRAZY.
Second thing I learned this week: the Indian movie industry is alive with color, cookiness and some very popular people.
This past Wednesday, the leader in everything Bollywood, Raj Kumar died. And the people of Bangalore lost it, and caused my Wednesday to SUCK.

In America, when a well respected actor dies, there is a sense of mourning that varies from person to person depending on how important the actor fit into our lives. Some people send flowers or charitable donations to the actor's favorite cause. The person is discussed and remembered by the actor's friends and co-actors on Larry King Live. The actor is in the news for roughly a week. And then, for the most part...forgotten.

India? Not so much. The citizens of India were so distraught at the death of this man, so pissed off that they could not enter the house he was laying wake in, that they rioted to a point that would put the LA Riots to shame. The riots got so bad, the police not only used clubs to fight off the mobs, they had to move this poor dead man to a park in order to accomidate all the fans who wanted to see his corpse.

So why has this inevitably turned back to how it affects me? Because everything revolves around me? Perhaps. But not this time, it is something more tangible. I work for a large mortgage corporation, and like every large corporation in America, we have a sister office in India. And because the riots got so bad that the employees of the India office could not get to work, my department had to do our job x2 on Wednesday. The only good thing about it was that I didn't have to listen to any customer on the phone complain about the India employees accents.

Yeah.
I know.
It sucked for us.

So please, India. Don't let anymore Bollywood Icons die. I just hate working more for the same amount of money. I'm American afterall.

It's Called Being Funny

2006-04-06T21:00:00.000-05:00

People are stupid. People who write entertainment articles are even more stupid. There have been several articles that I have read today breaking the unbelievable news that (gasp) Heather Locklear and David Spade have been trading hair highlighting secrets, oh, and making out. These writers act like there is no way on God's green earth that this union could ever make sense...How small and naive you are.

My two close girl friends and I have always contended that if we were men, we would have the hottest girlfriends ever. The secret? Be Funny. Girls love funny guys. Have you EVER seen a comedian with even a "common" looking wife?

Nope.

They are always hot.

Grow up, writers. And remember, Heather's been married to Ritchie Sambora for over a decade...She probably hasn't had a good chuckle since 1994. That's a lot of catching up to do.

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After Donald Trump's lastest baby was born:

"And in a classless move Trump issued a statment saying 'Try doing that with your dusty old uterus, Martha Stewart!'"--David Spade, The Showbiz Show

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Divorce Take Two

2006-04-06T20:30:00.000-05:00

He's cleaning out his closet...and apparently his wife is soooo last season. Eminem has done it again, and by "it," I mean ceased to amaze. He has (yawn) filed for divorce from his punching bag, aka, wife Kim Mathers, uh, again.

These two just got their shit back together and married for the second time in January. January 2006. Why do we even bother giving people like these two morons actual marriage licenses? Wouldn't it be better to give them like five year temporary tags or something? They could hang them from their car rear view mirrors...real convenient like.

I haven't any idea why the kiddies nowadays have no respect for the sanctity of marriage. I can't wait until I start hearing my fourteen year old cousin start a conversation with, "Well, in my first marriage I wanna have a condo...but by the third I think I need a mansion in Maui..."

Let's Just Blame Cruise Sr.

2006-04-06T13:01:00.000-05:00

Stupid standards.

Well, I am not going to make fun of someone who was verbally and physically abused by their father. I mean, I am not going to make fun of the fact that he was abused.

However, Is it really any surprise when a "superstar" admits to being abused as a child? Isn't that the whole reason to go into acting in the first place? Isn't acting just a ploy to get all the attention and love that abused kids missed out in their childhoods to be squished and pulled with the love from psycho fans and fill some neverending hole in their heart?

Well, I guess you showed him, Tom. You're successful, rich, good looking, baby on the way and stone cold crazy. Dad must be kicking his own ass right now.

What's Up with That Hill?

2006-04-04T12:43:00.000-05:00

Apparently One Tree Hill is a schmoopy teen show on the WB that even I, even I, have the good taste not to watch. But things have been happening off set of that show that have come to my attention and I feel that they need to be addressed.

Again, never having watched the show, I do not know what the magnetic appeal of uber All-American boy Chad Michael Murray is, but apparently this guy is getting more Tree ass than a dendrophiliac. The boy came to my attention when his sudden marriage to his "soul mate" went belly up within the span of a couple months. And since he married his costar, he has the priviledge to see her daily. I don't know about you, but, I love the idea of an actor having to work with someone they just broke up with (or better yet, married to) because it just serves them right. Don't shit where you eat, you know?

Chad, tsk tsk, hasn't learned his lesson, however. According to this article, Chad (2nd worst guy name ever, btw) has found a new love in WBville...a lowly, 18 year old extra from One Tree that he may, or may not have, impregnated and is now marrying. They have been dating a total of about four months, which must be like a lifetime to Chad, who divorced first wife Sophia Bush, another One Tree actress, after about five months. Time sure does fly at the WB.

Does Chad have a thing for marrying barely legal broads or is there just too much stagnant love to wade through in the air around that set?

Either way, another reason to not watch the WB.

(Except for America's Next Top Model, which should go without saying.)

Aww, What the Fuck?

2006-03-29T20:40:00.000-06:00

I can only imagine it would come as no surprise to anyone when I say that the entire idea of "pregnancy" or "giving birth" or, you know, "babies" is vulgar to me. All the heavy breathing during contractions, the slop that comes out with the baby, the clean up, the raising the thing...its like some B-horror movie where all the screaming virgins die horrible, bloody deaths.

So, why, Daniel Edwards, why? Why would you make something so repulsive that the pro-lifers AND the pro-choicers are united in a front against you? For those who live in a hole, a man with the name of Daniel Edwards thought it would be an interesting artistic endeavor to carve a statue of Britney Spears giving birth to her little bundle of white trash joy.

The idea of child birth is not attractive, in fact, I would bet good money that if a pregnant women could take a pill and the baby magically appears in the cradle the next day (complete with nanny and muzzle) they would cry in happiness. What kind of crazy, egotistical bafoon would create a statue of a woman, no, a Britney Spears, giving birth?

You know, I love to see talent wasted...makes me think of my own hollow life.

And he doesn't even seem to be that good of an artist. First of all, it doesn't even look like Britney...and don't give me that crap about Britney being this "idealized everywoman." I know about talking out of my ass when things do not turn out right. Secondly, like my friend Betsy and I were discussing, Britney's ass is WAY bigger than that. This girl's butt is way too bony. Even when she's not preggers that little pop princess has quite an ass...she's no flat bottomed Cher.

As I have not seen a picture of the back angle, I feel I can not really comment on it, although I've read that it has little Sean Preston's head coming out of the backend. Guess what, Dan, this is not art...this is a fetish dream come true for some pervert downloading pregnant woman porn on his internet. Soak it up, big boy, the tabloids love this shit.

A Special Guest Post

2006-03-14T16:44:00.000-06:00

***********************************DISCLAIMER***************************************
The following post is written by the other one of us FashionTragedy/Giveupthisidolblog/Bitches...it in no way relects anything different from my own mind and strangely enough I gave her full and complete carte blanche to write whatever the hell she wanted. Enjoy!
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Sometimes, in this crazy journey we call life, fantasy and the real world meet in a most disturbing and soul-shattering manner. Just over a month ago I was a carefree and innocent girl, carrying on my sheltered and charmed life without consequence. I had never known the feeling of true betrayal. The cold slap of reality left me a dried husk of my former self.

In order to fully relay the magnitude of this incident, I must first admit some truly sad, dorky, things about myself. Luckily, as some of you may know from mine and Crystal's Televised Competitive Singing blogs, I have no problems making humilating admissions over the internet.

Once fateful day in 1999, I was convinced by my now ex-boyfriend to attend a showing of South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut with his brother. This took some amount of cajoling, as I had seen the "anal probe" episode and thought....well...I thought it was shitty. ! In fact, I can comfortably say that the first two seasons of South Park are unremarkable, excepting Mecha Streisand, cause that shit was hilarious. So I'm like, whatever, but then the ex mentions that it's a musical. So, you know, I'm there quick like lightning, because I like musicals.

It was the funniest movie I have ever seen. From the first number until the credits I was in fucking tears. To this day, I have never laughed harder at movie in my life. And magically, the show got a whole lot better and I started watching it on a regular basis.

And that's when I fell in love.

Within mere months Trey Parker had taken over the position of Fantasy Boyfriend Numero Uno. I'm a whore for funny, and this guy was the funniest of all.

I mean, I'm no stalker, but if got my pick of whoever I wanted, Trey's on the short list. I adore him.

So, to continue with my sad tale, I landed at the airport in Phoenix late this January (where we were certainly not on a layover on the way to Vegas. Where we were not going to see JD Fortune and INXS because we did not watch that lame ass reality show. We've never even heard of INXS, okay?) and headed to the sports bar to have a smoke and a drink with Crystal, your esteemed Mme. Pop Culture. Well, I was the only one who was going to have a smoke, but I digress...

Our beers arrive and I locate some matches and get my nic fix, when my eyes are drawn to the big screen television across the room.

I do a double take because I swear that I'm seeing my ex boyfriend (not the one who took me to the movie and started this whole affair, but another, more recent, ex) being interviewed on ESPN about the Super Bowl. Seriously.

I take a big drink of beer and it sours in my gut when I realize who it is...

It's Trey Parker

At this point, I! don't know anything that's going on in his life, unaware of what might have caused this shocking transformation into my sometimes hateful ex. He's gained weight, and about 10 pounds of it are to the face. His face is chubby in the same exact way that the ex's face is chubby. They have the same hair cut, the same shaped eyes, the same chin. The same second chin. Even the same start of maybe a third chin. It's uncanny. Ask Crytsal, even she saw the resemblance right away. I am not making this up.

Not that my ex is a terrible, horrible, ugly, beast, but, at that exact moment I felt all of my love for Trey Parker shrivel and blow away. What's the point in having him for a fantasy boyfriend when all he is going to do is remind me of my very real ex? That's no fun, that's not a fantasy, that's creepy.

Then, in my search to find more recent pictures of! Mr. Parker, I ran across an announcement. That Trey Paker married some Japanese broad right around the time I saw him on the television in Phoenix. No way that's a coincidence.

I am left with no choice but to conclude that Trey gained all the weight and got my ex boyfriend's haircut and nose in a ruse to soften the blow of my emotional devestation over his upcoming nuptuals. Thanks, Trey, I appreciate it. Instead of crumbling into a shaking mass of vomit and tears, I felt only relief, thinking, "Well, now she can deal with his belief that I should do all of the cooking and cleaning and his inability to help me all the way with the bills" and then I realized I was thinking about my ex, and not Trey Parker. Clever play, Parker. I never knew you cared.

And hey, if you ever lose weight and get a divorce, call me. I think we can maybe still work things out.

Fondly,

Gina

Competition for the Ages

2006-03-08T22:49:00.000-06:00

It's such a hard decision for me.

I was watching one of my favorite TV shows, Project Runway (YOU WERE ROBBED, SANTINO!) and I saw the previews for the newest season of Blow Out. It's that hair show with the egomanical, energy sucking, embarassing to watch, hate him the more I see him, Jonathan of Jonathan's salon. As I was watching the commercial tonight I couldn't help think the same thought I have everytime I see his smarmy, better than thou face, which is, "This guy has to be King of All-American Tools."

I thought a little harder about my newfound bone of contention and realized someone already held that dishonorable distinction in my book. That someone is the American Idol Season Four contestant Constantine Mouralis. I cannot begin to describe the hate and loathe I held for Constantine. I wanted to kick his balls every time he flashed his faux seductive pout in the camera, I wanted to poison his beer every time he pushed his hair behind his ear with his palm, I wanted to set fire to his house everytime I had to hear him sing...Ugh. Hated. Him.

Amazingly, like everything, time has a way of reducing pain and pure feelings. It dilutes your passion and then makes room for the next person to fill that void...enter Jonathan.

Its amazing how hard decisions consume your mind. I honestly could not decide which one deserves to die the worst death. If Constantine was still on TV, I know the red spots and twinge would return...But, he's not and Jonathan is the biggest crybaby, pussy I've seen in my entire life (and just to let you know, I was in the Drama Club in Highschool...I've seen boys cry before...)

Constantine thought he was the most unstoppable entertainer who ever graced the stage at Hollywood's Orpheum Theatre, or, probably more accurate, ever to grace the television screen. "Jonathan" thinks that his name, his label, and any moment he is sticking his fat fingers on some woman's head, is the most important thing since the Nazi's occupation of France. They are both so hateable. It's amazing.

I only imagine as time goes on I will still consider Constantine the ruling King of all Douchebags...he was the first reality show personality I ever truly hated with a deep seeded venom. I do hate Jonathan, I really do, but I think there would be a lot less people arguing with me about how irreproachably asanine this guy really is. And, honestly, what's the point of hating someone if you aren't pissing off a co-worker who likes that person? (That might seem random, but, trust me, I pissed off a lot of co-workers by bashing Constantine.)

My Favorite Person to Hate

2006-03-08T16:45:00.000-06:00

This story is great. Imagine this...a beautiful, blonde, long legged, airheaded, heir apparent has a restraining order out. Could it be a restraining order against Val Kilmer who just can't get her out of his head after pictures of the two of them rubbing tongues have surfaced? Could it be against Nicole Ritchie and her gang of stringy haired, 70 lbs girlfriends who pulled out a Japanese style street fight against Paris outside Nobu? Could it be against those damned paparazzi who constantly wait for her to fuck up, yet again, and reveal some other part of her anatomy?

The answer is NO, NO, and, uh, NO. The restraining order is against Paris...no, I'm sorry it is just technically against her...but really, its against her MOUTH.

Brian Quintana is so fearful of Death by Bitchiness that he asked and received a restraining order against Hilton because of her insistance on running her sailor mouth every time the enemies came face to face. The only exception is when they are attending a party together...then the distance between tweedle dope and tweedle idiot is shortened. Only in California would this ridiculous disclaimer be put into law. God Bless America.

Oh, in case you're wondering, Hilton responds to this by the mature, "I don't care. I don't want anything to do with him..." Sure she sounds defiant and brave but, correct me if I'm wrong, it's the same thing Mr. and Mrs. Hilton said about Paris when she came within breeding age.

Meet My New Friend---Peter Stormare

2006-03-06T14:43:00.000-06:00

I mean, sure, they seem stupid. They are merely reiterrating the fact that Americans think Germans are wierd, futuristic, highly pragmatic people with a handy knack for making simplistic, commercial products that just"work really well." They make us, once again, fall for the probably false assumption that the German's do not half ass things.

I am talking about the new VW commercials featuring the nationality decieving genius of Peter Stormare.

I always thought he was a wierdo Russian because in pretty much anything I've ever seen him in he's playing the Signature Wierdo Russian. (Frankly, if I were making movies, every movie would include one.) But, when I saw the VW commercials starring him, I thought he must be German. Wrong again! I checked up on him at IMDB.com and discovered he is Swedish. I have a special fondness for the Swedes now since I had a supercool Swedish roommate a couple of months ago...so he's hilarious and Swedish.

For those of you not aware of the commercials just watch something on VH1 or MTV...they're playing them pretty regularly or follow the link under "VW Commercials." In each one, Peter is making fun of some American kid who has tricked out his car and then he pulverizes it in some way...In this way, the commercial is attempting to "unpimp" his "ride" and show us Americans the new cool thing. Peter does all this with some sort of European White Guy from Projects impression and its contrived, ridiculous and I find the commercials more than a little entertaining...for which I give all credit to Stormare. He is rigid, oblivious and more than a little "trying way too hard," and I am greatly looking forward to more.

Also, IMBD, informed me that he is in The Brothers Grimm which I rented and haven't yet watched...ahh, something to look forward to tonight!

"I Only Like Looky. No Touchy"

2006-03-03T12:51:00.000-06:00

King Freak of Nature, Gary Glitter, real name Paul Francis Gadd, has been judged and sentenced and hopefully when he goes to jail this time some Vietnamese guard throws away the key.

According to BBC news the sixty one year old pervert has been sentenced to a measly three years for sexually molesting two pre-pubescent girls in Vietnam...This is the THIRD country he has been accused of behaving inappropriately (sexually) and I think its about time to put him in a pink and Swarvoski crystal covered rocket and send him into outer-space. But, I guess a Vietnamese jail will do for the time being.

Gary's defense seemed impenetrable at the time...but he may be reconsidering now and kicking himself because the bland "I was teaching them English," seems a little made up. Because, as we know, not all flamboyantly dressed, pseudo pop stars who have been in trouble with the law for possessing kiddie porn are usually concerned that the young-ins they abuse are versed in the way of the English language. Some just abuse them and don't even bother to teach them English...which is a real shame.

The second part of his defense goes like this: "Sure they were over at my house... but, they were just playing in my pool... they're like my grandkids." Again, highly suspicious considering
fire-flaming homosexuals usually don't have grandkids.

Gary should consider himself lucky...had he been convicted on rape charges, Vietnamese penalty could have been DEATH. No more English lessons, no more swimming lessons, no more young thangs...just a whole lot of dead.

"Somebody does not like you and somebody wants you to fail."

2006-03-01T19:46:00.000-06:00

God has blessed me twice over. First, He de-structed the sacriligious and horrifying "band" Creed allowing me to gloat over anyone who may have liked that mockery of music. Sometimes there's no accounting for taste. Second, He has made newly solo singer Scott Stapp utter phrases like, "Somebody does not like you and somebody wants you to fail," referring, of course, to himself.

It seems that a sex tape featuring Stapp and Kid Rock, doing their best at an Odd Couple rendition in front of a bunch of hookers (I mean, strippers), has surfaced and made us all throw up a little bit.

This story is funny on a few different levels. Let's dissect it:

A. Why is someone who still has a bit of street cred and a bit of coolness like Kid Rock even being seen in the same place as a mondo douche bag like Stapp? He was hanging out with him?? Let's reevaluate our friends here, Kid. We are judged by those we hang around, remember that.

B. Why would Stapp state: "Obviously someone wants to hurt me and doesn't want me to be successful in my solo career..."? Scott, allow me to set the record straight, everyone wants you to fail. (Other than those already stated.) There is no great mastermind in particular hatching plots to kill your career. We all hate you. Furthermore, no one released this tape for anything other than tha benjamins...fact.

C. Lastly, considering that last statement of his...when has a sex tape EVER hurt anyone's career? If anything this might give you an extension on your unjustified fifteen minutes of fame. Enjoy it, loser.

Bruce Loses His Shit...I Laugh a Lot

2006-03-01T13:37:00.000-06:00

Whew! I can't believe I have not posted a damn thing since February 9th, and I have been actually keeping up with the Hollywood news, such that it is...I guess it was all uninspiring, kinda like religion. Well, thank the Good Lord that I read this little story about Mr. Willis today, or the dry spell would have continued.

Apparently it was Bruce's menstruating season and the normally "I want to always maintain my level of chill so the kids know I'm cool" actor started to throw a Elton John style hissy fit at a recent press conferance for some action movie I'll probably never see. He ragged on and on with comments ranging from "I am not a Republican, Goddammit!" to "Oprah should be ashamed of herself!" to the crybaby whine of "I'm telling! Entertainment Weekly said I suck!" I'm paraphrasing, of course, but the content is still valid.

I (heart) seeing actors or musicians lose their mind in front of cameras and reporters. I love the idea that an actor (who knows all about the media and what it will do) finally hits a place so extreme, so wrapped in anger and wrath that they explode in front of the very people who will take those words and warp them into incoherent babblings of the insane for our viewing/reading pleasure.

Now that I'm thinking about it, I am totally looking forward to more of this Bruce...I couldn't stand the last one. At least in this respect he's entertaining.

My 'dar is Totally Off!

2006-02-08T19:51:00.000-06:00

I hate contemporary country pop music. I hate it so much that many times I yell at people who like it because I feel they don't belong around me. (It is a privledge after all.) I mention that to say this: I didn't know who Kenny Chesney was until I began working at a title company full of women a few years ago. I had no idea that this backwoods goofball, who looks like a turtle after his head was pulled out of his shell by some rotten kid, caused women to freak out and drool...

I once wondered about this fascination when he was coming to town and 2/3rds of my office was going to the concert, so I looked him up on the internet. I told one of my coworkers that his head didn't match his body and he really had a very unattractive face. She then told me that it wasn't about the face...it was about the body. This is when I realized I needed a new job.

Anyway. A couple of weeks ago I met a girl who knew someone, who knew someone, who works with Kenny (I know, I know, but it was the first time I felt like I had an "in") and she gave me a very good reason, the only one that ever made sense to me, for why Renee Zellwegger would divorce him under the terms of fraud. Kenny's gay. I have to admit it was the first time I ever thought of that! Now, I'm not saying I know this for fact...but I think it makes more puzzle pieces connect than any other theories I could think up (which included "he's not really a man" and "he spends all his time with hookers"). It just makes the most sense.

So, when you see/hear all the new reports of Kenny and Renee being seen together, eating lunch and being cuddly, mark my word...she's just training for her new occupation as a fag hag.

I Don't Know Whether to Be Sad or Grossed Out

2006-02-08T19:20:00.000-06:00

Ralph Fiennes is a different kind of guy. I've always liked that he picks both art and commercial movies in which to act. I've always liked that he's hot and intense. I've always liked that I never heard too much about him and was pleasantly surprised when I do...usually...but now, with the news of his breakup of his 61 year old girlfriend, Francesca Annis, I have begun to be kinda icked out by him. I mean, on one level I think its cool that he was dating a 61 year old broad (he's 43). But, on another level, I'm sure he has mommy issues and it takes away some of the hotness. I would like to add, for fairness, that even at 61, Fran is still a looker.

Another issue is that there are reports that Fiennes and Annis broke up because he's been sticking things where they don't belong with some Romanian singer (Romania? Where the hell is Romania?) and she's been blabbing about the affair all over Romanian newspapers (I'm beginning to like that word.) What's with you famous guys and two timing your women at home with chicks who can't keep their mouths shut any more than they can keep their legs shut? Hello?? Its called "get an ugly girl!" The pretty ones never know when to close it.

No Joke Here

2006-02-03T14:02:00.000-06:00

****This is no joke. **** I just want to post this because these guys are my heros and I want to pass this along.

If you have watched The Office or Extras...the you are most certainly a fan of Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant. If you want to hear these two and the third funniest man alive, Karl Pilkington, doing their podcasts then go to rickygervais.com and click on the Podcasts link. You can download them onto your computer or IPod and then laugh yourself silly. And, you're welcome in advance.

Dude, You Called It

2006-02-03T13:31:00.000-06:00

Heather Locklear announced the impending divorce from her lamer-than-thou hubby, Richie Sambora. They have been together an "Amazing For Hollywood" eleven years and they might have kept going if it wasn't for my friend. Oh yes, I blame the fall of this marriage on my friend who wrote this in our past blog:

"How is someone so awesome married to someone so toolish? I guess Heather likes to feel confident that she is the good looking, likable, awesome one in the relationship while Richie is the one who spends too much time doing his hair." --October 25, 2005

If only our blog wasn't so incredibly popular and Heather had never read that. She would have never questioned her marriage and they might still be together today.

I wonder who else you can break up, Gina?

And I Thought My Friends had Bad Taste in Men

2006-01-23T20:56:00.000-06:00

It seems like the world is her oyster. Nicolette Sheridan is still kicking it hot-assed in her forties and she's on a critically approved and popular Sunday night program. All in all, her life seems enviable...Until you see her past and current choices in the male population.

First off, she is dating mega lame 80s pop "oh my god, remember that guy? My mother used to LOVE HIM" crooner, Michael Bolton. And this isn't a case of, she doesn't know any better, this is their second spin on this ride of hilarity. Oh yeah, that's right, she dated the mullet. Gross.

Now, let me just go through a few of the other social rejects she has let have sex with her. Lief Garret. Lief. Freaking. Garret. How low on the rejection and self loathing life-pole do you have to be to date this man? Is she still harboring to that teen idol age where he was a god? Woman, get over it. This man was a born loser. (See below for evidence.)

Her recently ditched fiance, Nicklas Soderblum, AKA Eurotrash ManFab Extraordinare, was another boo boo in the dating circuit. By the way, I love this picture of them and only because they both look like total assholes.

But the best, and by the best I mean the absolute worst example of her terrible taste in men: Harry Hamlin. I don't think I have too much to say about 'ol Harry that this movie poster can't say for me:

Wah-hah.

Arrested Idols

2006-01-19T12:35:00.000-06:00

The newest season of American Idol has begun (for an up to date, unbelievably funny recap of the show, check out http://aibestworstshowever.blogspot.com) and we have already seen the cons out, dressed like angels, singing for their supper.

The Brittenum Twins, those tubby delights of acoustic proportions, have had a run in with the law and one of them (Terrell) has been in lockdown since January 10th and his brother (Derrell) is expected to turn his dumb ass in. Apparently they stole someone's identity to buy a 2005 Dodge Magnum.

So they've squandered a future in stardom and blown any chance to succeed in the most watched televised singing competition ever...And all for a suped up station wagon. Good job.

Lame Bust Alert

2006-01-18T13:10:00.000-06:00

It is never cool to get arrested unless you were doing something noble, like say, kicking someone's ass for mistreating your child or something. But even still, there are respectable arrests involving truckloads of money, prostitution and/or murder and then there are those that make you snicker and roll your eyes in embarrassment for the poor dupe.

Child star Leif Garrett falls into the snickering category. While already on probation it seems that the former crooner failed to pay for a subway ticket and was subsequently arrested...then his stash was found.

Yeah, he's in a lot of trouble, but seriously...what a dumbass.

It's Not Like We're German

2006-01-15T10:54:00.000-06:00

The news of an impending divorce between the hairy 80s TV personality turn hairy 90s embarassingly awful crooner, David Hasselhoff and wifey, makes me wonder, who cares? I mean, we're not Germany over here. He didn't sing out a heartfelt LOOKING FOR FREEDOM when our Berlin Wall fell. He has been out of the spotlight for a bit now, only to be thought of as a butt of jokes and an easy laugh. But, with the news headlined on almost every entertainment section I read on the internet, I thought, someone must surely be interested. So, I did what every twenty something would do in this situation.

I Googled him.

Seems that there are some psychos that still care because there are at least three websites dedicated to the Hoff. Well, technically, one is calling him the Antichrist...and another is just dedicated to his hair.

But overall, it was more than I thought I would find.

It Will be Ugly When it Comes Out Anyway

2006-01-12T15:17:00.000-06:00

People magazine is reporting that Mr. and Mrs. Smith are bouncing with deeply pitted joy since the "Mrs." is pregnant with a bastard child. Congratulations!

At this time, I would like to warn any nuts-o fans with warm and cuddly feelings about seeing this little life sucker as soon as it pops out with this knowledge: One of my jobs while in college was in a call center for Growing Family First Foto (see that last "f", isn't that cute?). There they produced over 90% of the baby photos taken in the hospital in the U.S. and Canada...It is with this experience that I would like to call attention to the fact that every child, no matter how genetically gifted their parents may be, is an ugly baby. Now i know it must be traumatic to be born, what with your tiny, malleable body being squeezed and pushed...but you should have seen some of the scary babies I saw during my brief tenure there.

Furthermore, they don't even get cute until thier head rounds out around a month afterwards. So don't even look for that kid in pics of Baby Smith until a few months after she gives birth. Again, just a warning.

Was that Recorder On? During the Interview?

2006-01-11T12:04:00.000-06:00

I have never wanted to have a mature, decent conversation about Lindsay Lohan. She doesn't garner the same respect that other actresses her age may have in my book. Thankfully, it looks like I will never have to.

Her recent disclosure to the well read magazine, Vanity Fair, has got her big 'ol ego all aflutter. It appears that she has admitted to doing what most teens do at some point or another...drugs...and now, she's mad that the article's author, like, f*cking, told everybody.

She also admitted that she barfed up all those drugs along with her food...so what is she so worried about?

Rocky Moutain Low

2006-01-10T20:51:00.000-06:00

Well...it's happened...

I had to rapidly rack my mind for a moment when the news broke. I often forget that certain people exist in the world (i.e. celebrities I haven't heard about in a while) and it took me a pause to remember the union that always made me think "any day now..."

I never wished the bizarre coupling of Hilary Swank and Chad Lowe anything but the if they leave me alone I'll leave them alone attitude. I have not enjoyed any of her movies since Boys Don't Cry...Affair of the Necklace, anyone? Not exactly her fault that I'm hard to please. He, on the other hand, will always hold a special place in my heart for playing the first AIDS victim I've ever seen on TV on Life Goes On.

But, alas, I knew this was coming when she won that Oscar. She did it. She was able to covet the most important tangible symbol any actor can to solidify, in gold, that they are indeed the best at what they do...and where was Mr. Lowe? We could find him in a made for television movie playing that Songster of Denim, John Denver.

Eight years, guys. Hollywood standards? Good on you.

Well, its only like, half Hollywood, isn't it, Chad?

To the Title's Owner

2006-01-10T12:27:00.000-06:00

I would like to acknowledge the author of the title of this blog. Neil Postman wrote the book with the same name, published in 1985, and it is terrific...a must read for anyone who feels guilty about their obsession with pop culture or pissed off at anyone else's obsession and wants ammo.