Monday, February 28, 2011
I'm All Set With This Clown
"Pu**y. He's not allowed to quit. So you're fired." - Charlie Sheen, responding to the news that his publicist, Stan Rosenfield, had quit. Rosenfield's resignation comes on the heels of Chuckie's appearances on Today and TMZ in which he called himself "a total rock star from Mars"and demanded a raise to $3 million an episode before he would return to work on "Two and a Half Men." Of course, no one has asked Chuckie to come back to work, so I think it's safe to say the pay increase is off the table. Both interviews evinced the fact that Charlie is suffering some sort of delusional psychosis, drug induced or otherwise, and both interviews have solidified my commitment to ignore this trainwreck from now on. At a certain point, this sort of thing defies commentary and becomes nothing more than a tragic story of a life lost and lives ruined (Charlie has 5 kids). So, if you want to follow Charie's spiral into madness, check in with TMZ. They've got the full scoop.
I hope you get well, CShee. Until then, I bid you good day, sir. I SAID GOOD DAY.
Posted by Renée Z. at 2:40 PM 0 comments
Labels: Charlie Sheen, Rehab, TMZ
It's Not You; It's Me, Edition 5.0
We're traveling today, so posting will be on hold until tonight. If you missed our Live Oscar Tweets last night, you can read them here. And speaking of the Oscars: holy snoozefest, Batman. And never in my life have I heard so many TV personalities say the word "stoned." Yes, I think we can all agree that James Franco was deep in the ganja all night, leaving little Annie to carry the hosting duties. Judging by the times when he was on stage, I think it was better for everyone that Jimmy was busy rolling joints. Normally I love me some JFranc, but oy vey.
Check back later for our post-Oscar wrap-up as well as your regularly scheduled programming.
Posted by Renée Z. at 9:09 AM 0 comments
Labels: James Franco, Notes, Oscars
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Oscars Oscars OSSSCARRRRRRS!
F-Bomb Café is LIVE TWEETING the Academy Awards! Tune in from 4 pm until the last statue. You can follow us here. Do it. It'll make you feel good. Everyone's trying it.
Posted by Renée Z. at 9:50 AM 0 comments
Labels: Academy Awards, Oscars, Twitter
Friday, February 25, 2011
Humorless Post, Volume Three
So, while Charlie Sheen is dominating the media with his choice to destroy his life, some other people are having their lives destroyed without their consent -- and in at least one case, by the court. Jezebel reports that a Canadian judge decided that a convicted rapist didn't deserve jail time because the victim was dressed provocatively. You heard me: convicted rapist, no jail time, because her shirt was too tight. Kenneth Rhodes met a 26 year-old woman in parking lot and then, when she willingly accompanied him into the woods, raped her. But the judge thinks Kenneth Rhodes isn't a rapist. No, he's just a "clumsy Don Juan." Right. The judge explained, "This is a different case than one where there is not perceived invitation...This is a case of misunderstood signals and inconsiderate behaviour."
I'm pretty sure that a judge just called a rape "inconsiderate behaviour" and a violent sex criminal a womanizer.
In case you were wondering, the woman was wearing a tube top, high heels, and (gasp!) makeup. Well, you should have said so, Judge Robert Dewar! Everyone knows that is the universal sartorial sign for "force me to have sex with you." Following the (lack of) sentencing, the victim said she feels like "a prisoner in her own home." Well, she should have thought about that before she...wore clothes. If you are as enraged as I, don't worry; the judge ordered the rapist to write an apology letter to his victim. Because, I don't know about you, but after someone commits a violent crime against me and then blames me for it, I like to keep up correspondence. GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.
Posted by Renée Z. at 8:01 AM 1 comments
The Obligatory CShee Summary of Events
As you likely already know, Charlie Sheen went off during a radio interview last night. Here are a few highlights from his on-air rant, courtesy of TMZ:
About Two and a Half Men creator, Chuck Lorre: "a turd," "a clown," an "unevolved mind," his real name is "Haim Levine"
About his drug and alcohol addiction: "I have a disease? Bullshit! I cured it...with my mind."
About AA members: "Newsflash...I am special and I will never be one of you."
So far, so good, right? Well, it wasn't over after the radio rant. Unsatisfied with the extent to which he had insulted his boss, Chuck Lorre, Sheen called TMZ from his holiday home near the Bahamas where he is, um, relaxing with porn stars Bree Olson and Natalie Kenly. Sheen told TMZ:
"I violently hate Chaim Levine [Lorre]...He's a stupid, stupid little man and a pussy punk that I'd never want to be like. That's me being polite. All these guys told me to 'clean it up.' Well this is me cleaning it the f**k up. That piece of shit [Lorre] took money out of my pocket, my family's pocket, and, most importantly, my second family -- my crew's pocket. You can tell him [Lorre] one thing. I own him."
Oh, he also challenged Lorre to a fight "in the octagon." You might be shocked to find out that in fact Charles does not own Chuck Lorre and will not be returning to work soon, as CBS went and shut down the show. Yup. After Charlie's afternoon of manic idiocy, CBS and Warner Bros. released the following statement:
"Based on the totality of Charlie Sheen's statements, conduct and condition, CBS and Warner Bros. Television have decided to discontinue production of 'Two and a Half Men' for the remainder of the season."
Oops! Looks like Charlie's "second family" -- the crew -- won't be getting paid now. I'm guessing none of them will be sequestered in the islands with coke and hookers, but maybe they'll find another way to enjoy their unemployment. Don't worry, Chuck. You just take care of yourself. You're doing great. Anyway, never one to surrender the last word, Charlie sent an open letter to TMZ. It's quite the piece of literature:
What does this say about Haim Levine [Chuck Lorre] after he tried to use his words to judge and attempt to degrade me. I gracefully ignored this folly for 177 shows ... I fire back once and this contaminated little maggot can't handle my power and can't handle the truth. I wish him nothing but pain in his silly travels especially if they wind up in my octagon. Clearly I have defeated this earthworm with my words -- imagine what I would have done with my fire breathing fists. I urge all my beautiful and loyal fans who embraced this show for almost a decade to walk with me side-by-side as we march up the steps of justice to right this unconscionable wrong.
Remember these are my people ... not yours...we will continue on together...
So, to sum it up: Charlie Sheen is a delusional, likely bipolar drug addict who refuses treatment and continues to destroy his health and career while in essence abandoning his 5 -- count 'em, 5 -- children for a life of fire breathing fists and anti-semitic slurs. There isn't much to say. This is your brain on drugs, people. Any questions?
Posted by Renée Z. at 7:26 AM 0 comments
Labels: Charlie Sheen, Chuck Lorre, Rehab
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Super Bowl, Schmuper Bowl. It's Oscar Time!!! 2011 Edition
I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I f*cking LOVE the Academy Awards. Don't judge me. It is what it is, or life is short, or eat dessert first, or whatever pithy cliché applies to my immersion in fluff. Just go with it. Whether you love the Oscars, hate the Oscars, or don't care about the Oscars, you should tune in to F-Bomb Café's Live Oscar Tweets, this Sunday, starting at 4 pm with the pre-show and continuing until the last award. There will be snark and witticisms for even the most apathetic attendees. With that said, I give you my official 2011 Academy Award picks. WHOOOOOOT!
BEST PICTURE: "The King's Speech"
WHY: Because the film was nominated for 12 Oscars, more than any other movie this year, and because it has won a bunch of awards already, including a Golden Globe and SAG for Colin Firth and Best Picture at the BAFTAs. Plus, the Academy are suckers for Geoffrey Rush, period pieces, and overcoming adversity story lines. All to say: A stuttering King is basically Oscar gold. C-c-c-congratulations in advance.
BEST DIRECTOR: Tom Hooper for "The King's Speech"
WHY: Because it didn't direct itself, duh. No, really: while the Academy usually gives the Best Director award to whoever directed the Best Picture, that's not my only reason. As far as I can tell from the other awards (Globes, SAGs, etc.), the only real competition Hooper has is David Fincher, who directed "The Social Network." And I predict that Fincher will win for "The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo" next year. Yeah, I know, the film isn't even out yet, but it's not like the awards actually depend on the work. I mean, come on. So, yeah: Hooper for the win. See you next year, DFinch.
BEST ACTOR: Colin Firth
WHY: Because he has won almost every award leading up to the Oscars, and it's his turn. Jeff Bridges could have beat him had he not won last year (for "Crazy Heart," under the guiding Oscar principle we call "The Body of Work Award." See also Paul Newman in "The Color of Money."), and I think maybe Javier Bardem deserves it, but he's already sleeping with Penelope Cruz, so, you know, he's all set. Firth for the win.
BEST ACTRESS: Natalie Portman
WHY: Because she's pregnant! Have you seen her super-preggers preggy pregnant belly? Seriously, Oscar looooves a pregnant woman up on stage. But, to be fair, that's not the only reason Nat has this wrapped up. She was, in fact, really great in the part, and she performed the classic Academy Award snagging move -- transforming her physical appearance for the role, losing 20 pounds as she morphed herself into a ballerina. We call this the "Mess With Your Face/Body Award" (See also: Charlize Theron in "Monster.") Plus, we've watched little Natalie grow from precocious and charming child star to super-talented actress and fiancé of a womanizing French dude. All to say: she has arrived! Mazel Tov, Natty.
BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR: Christian Bale
WHY: Well, there's the Mess With Your Body Award (see above). Also, there is the fact that he is one of the best actors on the planet, and he KILLED IT in this role. Every once in a while that actually affects who wins, and I think this will be one of those times.
BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS: Melissa Leo
WHY: This is a hard one. Ironically, it was the first pick I was certain about way back before the Golden Globes. And she has won just about every other Supporting Actress award so far. But then she went and took out that ridiculous "Consider" ad to promote herself, which is a little too try-hard for the Academy. But I'm sticking by Melissa Leo. She was amazing in the movie. Now let's lay low until Sunday, mm-kay Mel?
ANIMATED FEATURE: "Toy Story 3"
WHY: I'm not going to insult you with an explanation. This one's a no-brainer.
ART DIRECTION: "Alice In Wonderland" (Robert Stromberg and Karen O'Hara)
WHY: I think this was the best art direction of the nominees. That's a crazy, controversial way to pick a winner, but I'm feeling nutty.
CINEMATOGRAPHY: "True Grit" (Roger Deakins)
WHY: Because I am convinced that the Academy doesn't like Darren Aronofsky, who directed "Black Swan," which I would otherwise choose. I don't expect Aronofsky's films to win anything except performance awards -- ever. I'm not sure whose coffee he peed in, because, I mean, I love his work. Although I suspect the ascots of which he is so fond have something to do with it. Anyway, with "Black Swan" out of the way, I have to pick "True Grit," if only because that film should win something.
COSTUME DESIGN: "Alice in Wonderland" (Colleen Atwood)
WHY: Colleen Atwood is as close to a ringer as costume designers will ever have. She does masterful work that is regularly recognized as such. How rational an explanation is that? Weird.
DOCUMENTARY FEATURE: "Restrepo"
WHY: This is what we call "The Politically Correct Award." (See: Schindler's List and every documentary made about AIDS, disabled people, or soldiers. If they award the movies, it's just like activism, right?) Given the subject matter - soldiers in Afghanistan and what they endure -- this is the clear winner. Oh, and the film was really, really, powerful and masterfully made. If you're into that sort of thing.
DOCUMENTARY SHORT: "Killing In The Name"
WHY: This category is a "Politically Correct Award" minefield. The 5 nominees bring us refugee children, soldiers with PTSD, global warming, environmental crimes, and more! This was a tough one, but I'm going with the Muslim who breaks the cultural code of silence and speaks out against terrorism. Because omg you guys! Some Muslims don't kill people!
FILM EDITING: "Black Swan"
WHY: Because I refuse to give any more awards to "The Social Network" than I absolutely have to, and it will probably win this category. So I'm betting with my heart and throwing it to the kooky ballet movie. That's my reason. Oh, and my raging girl-crush on Mila Kunis that has nothing to do with film editing. That too.
FOREIGN LANGUAGE FILM: "Biutiful" (Mexico)
WHY: Because OH MY G-D did you SEE Javier Bardem's performance in this film? This movie is so freaking beautiful (no pun intended) and resonant that if it doesn't win, I'm going to...do absolutely nothing. But it will be unjust.
MAKEUP: "The Wolfman"
WHY: Because it has wolfmen.
ORIGINAL SCORE: "The King's Speech" (Alexandre Desplat)
WHY: Because musicians love Desplat, and the Academy loves movies about monarchies.
ORIGINAL SONG: "We Belong Together" by Randy Newman ("Toy Story 3")
WHY: Because Randy Newman has been nominated 19 times for this award and has one only once; because the other songs evoke Gwyneth Paltrow, Disney fluff, and a severed arm; and because "We Belong Together" will always be the song from the cartoon that made American dads weep.
ANIMATED SHORT: "Madagascar, a Journey Diary"
WHY: Um...instinct? Really, sometimes one nominee jumps out at me for no reason. I think some of you call that "guessing."
LIVE ACTION SHORT: "Na Wewe"
WHY: See above. I'm guessing. Also, I think there is some Politically Correct Award stuff here. You know, Rwanda, genocide, that sort of thing. That said, I want "The Crush" to win, because I loved it.
SOUND EDITING: "Tron: Legacy"
WHY: Look, I never pick the sound awards correctly. So does it matter what my reason is? No matter what I pick, it will lose, so don't pay any attention to this one or the next one, okay? Stupid sound. It's not like it matters.
SOUND MIXING: "Inception"
WHY: See above
VISUAL EFFECTS: "Inception"
WHY: Because people loved this movie, but I think the biggest award it will get is for Nolan's screenplay. I'm suspect they'll throw Nolan's team this one, too. Call it the Consolation Award.
ADAPTED SCREENPLAY: Aaron Sorkin ("The Social Network")
WHY: Because despite the fact that this script was a piece of shit, everyone but me seems to think it was some sort of masterpiece. So there's that, plus the fact that Sorkin just beat his cocaine addicition, and Hollywood loves that stuff (as they should, of course). I think Aaron Sorkin seems like a super rad dude; I would love to have dinner with him (cut to ASork leaping with joy). But part of me will die inside when he accepts this award. Alas, the show must go on...
ORIGIBAL SCREENPLAY: Christopher Nolan ("Inception")
WHY: This is another Body of Work award. In Nolan's case, his body of work is fortified by his graceful and touching navigation of Heath Ledger's death as it related to the Batman movie; Hollywood loves a touching tale of friendship and life lost. Ugh. More to the point, people loved this film, and the Academy loves Christopher Nolan. And, okay, fine, the screenplay was good. Nolan for the win.
There you have it. Tune into our Twitter feed Sunday and heckle me when I lose! It's fun for the whole family!
Posted by Renée Z. at 11:34 AM 0 comments
Quick And Dirty
Winona taught her this one: According to "a law enforcement source who has intimate knowledge of the surveillance video" (which makes it sound as if the source has some weird VHS sex fetish), the tape from the jewelry store from which Lindsay Lohan allegedly stole a necklace shows that after Lilo put on the bauble, her male friend distracted the sales associate so that Linds could slip out with the necklace on. Says the dirty cop -- I mean source, "This simply wasn't a case of miscommunication of a necklace being loaned and not returned, as Lindsay has claimed." SHOCKING! Nonetheless, I'm still Team Lindsay. What's a little felony between friends? [RadarOnline]
Of course she did: Amber Portwood, of MTV's "Teen Mom," has leaked nude photos of herself. Well, okay, nude photos have been leaked of Amber Portwood. Fine. You say tomato, I say she's a shameless unfit mother famewhore. Anyway, if you hate yourself, you can see the photos at the link. [Egotastic]
But have you seen Drew's biceps?: Jason Davis, oil heir turned tragedy and star of last season's "Celebrity Rehab With Dr. Drew" has been charged with felony possession of a controlled substance, being under the influence of a controlled substance (heroin and a narcotic), and possessing drug paraphernalia stemming from his arrest last month. Which is weird, because one would think that a couple months in televised, fake rehab would end a lifelong bout with depression and addiction. [TMZ]
How can I put this? Oh yeah: Shut the f*ck up: Kanye West, on Twitter this morning: "an abortion can cost a ballin' nigga up to 50gs maybe a 100. Gold diggin' bitches be getting pregnant on purpose. #STRAPUP my niggas!" "Strap up" is great advice, Westie, but I'm curious: how much does abortion cost a nigga who's not ballin'? Just wondering. [Jezebel]
Posted by Renée Z. at 9:24 AM 0 comments
Labels: Amber Portwood, Kanye West, Lindsay Lohan
Let's Never Speak Of This Again
I'm going to get right to the point: "American Idol" is making me like JLo. I know; there's a lot to react to in that statement, so let's unpack it. Yes, I love "American Idol." Whatever. Get over it. (Please?) This isn't to say I don't think the show is a shameless pile of manufactured drama, it's just...you know, there's singing and stuff. So far this year, it's been business as usual at AI, including of course the requisite down-on-his/her-luck-and-just-needs-a-break character whom AI highlights during the audition process. Usually, it's the young guy whose parents don't support his music career, or the young girl who's been living out of her car because dammit she has a dream. This year, it was Chris Medina, whose fiancée was in a car accident and suffered severe, traumatic brain injuries 2 months before their wedding. Medina has stood by his love, singing to and caring for her, and then of course bringing her to his AI audition. I'm not going to be cynical about that part because he seems like such a good guy. For the producers, of course, he was reality-show gold. And last night JLo had to tell him he wasn't in the top 24. She struggled for the right words, bless her heart, and then when Chris left, JLo lost it. She really cried -- like, tears and stuff. And that's what has been winning me over; she seems genuine. Which is hard for me to process, because, you know, I be fooled by the rocks that she's got. You can watch it all go down in the video above. And in case you question JLo's sincerity, just remember: it is impossible that she is acting. Trust me. I saw Gigli.
Posted by Renée Z. at 7:37 AM 0 comments
Labels: American Ido, Chris Medina, Jennifer Lopez, Reality TV
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
What's The Opposite Of A Sober House?
RadarOnline reports that Brooke Mueller has moved in with her ex-husband, Charlie Sheen. That's cool. Brooke is a recovering and recently-relapsed crack addict, and Charlie is a crack-smoking addict manwhore in denial. Oh, and the last time they lived together, Charlie got arrested on Christmas Eve after the couple's days long speed party turned violent. Frankly, I don't care if they freebase and punch themselves and each other to death, but they have 2 year-old twin sons who have actually not been to rehab yet. And, you know, in general it's best to keep toddlers away from speed. And hookers. And domestic violence. Just saying.
Posted by Renée Z. at 1:41 PM 1 comments
Labels: Brooke Mueller, Charlie Sheen, Kids, Rehab
There Are Almost No Words, Volume Three
The photo you see above shows a billboard in Soho right now. Can you read it? Let me help. It says, "The most dangerous place for an African American is in the womb." Right. Because we all know blacks are shameless baby killers. The sign was erected blocks from Planned Parenthood by Life Always, a pro-life group on whose website one can read this:
There is a battle being waged in the United States that has taken more lives than any foreign war or act of terrorism. The enemy is abortion. Its' supporters include the main stream media, liberal representatives in government, and Planned Parenthood, the country's largest abortion provider. The voices of the opposition are everywhere. ThatsAbortion.com is a project of Life Always. We use advertising, research and confrontational truth to gain awareness, inform and educate individuals to choose life, always!
"Gain awareness"? Awareness of the thinly veiled racism and terror on which this organization bases it's "activism"? Yeah, no thanks. Jeezus.
The most dangerous place for an African American is in the womb [Deacon John's Space]
Posted by Renée Z. at 10:22 AM 2 comments
Labels: Abortion, Planned Parenthood, Race, Reproductive Rights
Sure You Didn't, Pumpkin
"I really didn't want to do this." - Michael Lohan, outside the courtroom this morning after Lindsay's hearing. Poppa Lohan wants us to know that he had NO intention of speaking, but he just had to. Among MLo's stunning revelations? That Lindsay would be fine if her mom would just cooperate with him. Quoth he of the mesh shirt, [Lindsay could have that [happiness]...if Dina would just come on board with me." Yeah. Because erasing two decades of damage is as easy as getting two pathetic and abusive famewhores on the same side of the fence. That should do it. Snark aside, it probably would help Linds if her parents could act as a united, positive support system. You know what else would help, Mikey? SHUT THE FUCK UP. Just saying.
Posted by Renée Z. at 10:04 AM 0 comments
Labels: Lindsay Lohan, Michael Lohan
It's Janet: Miss Wears-The-Skin-Of-A-Defenseless-Animal If You're Nasty
Here we have Janet Jackson as the latest celebrity model for fur maker Blackglama, a company that raises minks to kill them so that asshats can wear them. Look, I used to love me some Janet Jackson. Don't make me break out my high school dance class's routine to Janet's "Black Cat," because I'll do it. I'll f*cking do it. But alas, now I'll have to retire all my Rhythm Nation tee shirts. Call me crazy, but the image of a wealthy and powerful human who has enough money for heat posing in a pelt makes me want to vomit. I mean, I know you want to be the one in control, JJ, but this is a bit much. Boo.
Janet Jackson is newest legend to model fur for Blackglama [Sun Sentinel]
Posted by Renée Z. at 8:01 AM 0 comments
Labels: Advertising, Animals, Janet Jackson
Sarah Palin Supports Self-Love
No, not that kind. Get you head out of the gutter. Jeez. What I mean is that Sarah Palin has set up a second Facebook account under the alias "Lou Sarah" so that she can use the account to praise herself. Really. The folks at Wonkette caught Sarah trying to be sneaky when they searched her email address on Facebook and found the secondary account. Wonkette points out that Sarah's middle name is Louise -- hence the super clever alias. Aw, SPal! Are things so rough that you need to resort to "liking" your own page? Maybe it's time to go back to what you do best, which is...um...what is it anyway?
Posted by Renée Z. at 7:40 AM 1 comments
Labels: Facebook, Sarah Palin
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Gender Schema Olympics
Behold the ridiculous new ad for Dr. Pepper 10, a diet soda marketed to men. Yes: men and only men! No girls allowed! In fact, the company tells you flat-out that the soft drink is "not for women." Why? Because according to Dr. Pepper, chicks like romantic comedies and girlie drinks, men like guns and trucks, and one's choice of beverages must be consistent with these rules. That's nice. How about this: no one should drink diet soda because that shit is poison (not like my precious vodka, obvs). Really, though. Just say no, people -- whether you are a girlie-girl-ecru-beautysoft-rosebud lady or a raw-meat-eating-roid-raging-car-crashing tough guy.
Posted by Renée Z. at 11:31 AM 0 comments
Labels: Advertising, Dr. Pepper, Gender Issues
Crappy News Network Says What?
"I think that we should be covering stories that can play in Peoria. It's a little bit like walking a tightrope, because you want to be smart enough for the fashion crowd but accessible enough that the average CNN viewer...will also be interested in watching." - reporter Alina Cho, explaining the, um, challenge of covering Fashion Week for CNN. Even though she has delivered impressive and intense coverage from places like North Korea, ACho wants you to know that fashion is tough news, too. Especially with all those not "smart" viewers in Peoria. Those shameful hicks!
(Note: We did not intend to make this "Rag On CNN Day," but, you know, with all the hard work they've put into earning the celebration, we have to give them their due.)
Alina Cho: Fashion Coverage Has A Place On CNN [HuffPost]
Posted by Renée Z. at 10:23 AM 0 comments
CNN Sucks, Volume -- Ah, I've Lost Count
In case you haven't been following it, CNN has announced the latest strike in their campaign against integrity. First, there was the time Anderson Cooper asked former child star turned Born Again Christian proselytiser Kirk Cameron if the world is ending. Because KCam would know, of course. Then there was Piers Morgan and his whole Let's-treat-Condoleeza-Rice-like-she's-on-the-cover-of-Cosmo routine. And now CNN has made yet another bid for disgrace. The network has hired Camille Grammer, Real Housewife of Beverly Hills and estranged ex-wife of Kelsey, as one of their Oscar correspondents for Sunday's Academy Awards Broadcast. Okay, CNN. You've made your point. You have zero credibility and will soon be the news equivalent of Star magazine. Well done.
Posted by Renée Z. at 8:03 AM 0 comments
Labels: Anderson Cooper, Camille Grammer, CNN, Kirk Cameron, Oscars, Piers Morgan, TV
Monday, February 21, 2011
You'll notice that MNP is blog post lite, if you will. So, you know...embrace it, people. That said, Monday Night Props to Johannes Nyholm. If you don't know who he is, just watch the video. And if you do know who he is, also watch the video. It proves two things: that Johannes Nyholm is a brilliantly funny mofo, and that I was blonde as a baby. No one ever believes me. And here's my proof. So there.
Thanks to Wes W. for the link.
Posted by Renée Z. at 6:45 PM 0 comments
Labels: Johannes Nyholm, Las Palmas, MNP, Movies, The Big Chill
Monday Night Props
Behold the new feature. You can call it MNP. Let's keep this one short; the gripping emotional experience that is Presidents Day has me all tuckered out. But I'd like to point out that in the Greek tragedy that is Charlie Sheen's life, his costar Jon Cryer is the forgotten victim. Duckie has feelings, too, press people. Monday Night Props to Jon Cryer, who seems like a cool dude.
Posted by Renée Z. at 6:23 PM 0 comments
Labels: Charlie Sheen, Jon Cryer, MNP
Okay, So I Lied
I know I said we are taking the day off, and we are. But, well, this is the headline and second paragraph of an article at The Huffington Post today:
Kacey Jordan, Charlie Sheen's Porn Star, Talks About Her Abortion:
"I think it might have been too soon to be Charlie's baby, but you never know. I get pregnant very easily," Kacey, who has had three previous abortions, told Radaronline.com.
Happy Presidents Day. Our founding fathers must be so proud.
Posted by Renée Z. at 9:09 AM 1 comments
Labels: Charlie Sheen, Famewhores, Kacey Jordan, President's Day
It's Not You; It's Me, Edition 5.0
It's a holiday, right? Some dead guy's birthday? Look, I am nothing if not a patriot, so F-Bomb is taking the day off to drink -- I mean, celebrate and reflect. Check back tonight, though, when we resume your regularly scheduled snark. Happy Whatever Day!
Posted by Renée Z. at 8:38 AM 0 comments
Friday, February 18, 2011
But Did You Finish Your Homework And Clean Your Room?
"The reports i was at teddys are inaccurate...I was just at roosevelt to meet Samantha and say happy birthday to a friend. i take my sobriety seriously. please dont believe this accusations. i know the rules and i wouldnt risk probation. xoxo L" - Lindsay Lohan, moments ago on Twitter. Um, I understand you feel persecuted, Lilo, but you're an adult, and you don't need to make excuses for your whereabouts. You're allowed at Teddy's. To be clear, though, you are not allowed to initiate car chases or steal things. Maybe write that down? The rest of the world apologizes for any confusion.
Posted by Renée Z. at 2:42 PM 0 comments
Labels: Lindsay Lohan, Twitter
Backhanded Compliments, Volume Five
Well, lookie here: Behold Jon Gosselin, at work at his new job installing solar panels for Green Pointe Energy, a company that specializes in renewable energy. Looks like Satan reneged on that whole "sell your soul and your kids for fame" deal. But hey, a respectable job and renewable energy? Those are the easily the most positive four words ever to share a paragraph with Johnnie G. Keep up the good work, homey. [TMZ]
Let's pretend "Skating with the Stars" never happened, too: Former Real Housewife and perpetual famewhore Bethenny Frankel is on the cover of the newest Us Weekly, explaining that she used to be "obsessed with being thin." The natural foods chef and star of "Bethenny Ever After" details her lifetime of compulsive dieting and vows never to model such behavior for her daughter, 9 month-old Bryn. BFrank has basically made a career out of being eating disordered, and I have to admit that this whole thing reeks of spin. That said, at the very least Bethenny realizes her messages have been dangerous, and that's great. So for now we'll just let it go that she owns a company called "Skinnygirl."
(Just saying, Frankie. Just saying.)
Bless her little heart: Britney Spears has released a video for her single "Hold It Against Me," and it's...um...good to see Britney back to work. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. Honestly, I am totally Team BritBrit. But, you know, I have eyes and ears to protect, too. It's complicated. [RadarOnline]
I don't think the Department of Corrections will appreciate this: Christian Slater tells Details magazine that jail was, "Honestly, not so bad." Um, Chris, I think they want jail to be a deterrent, so maybe keep that little detail to yourself, huh? Slater did time for assaulting his girlfriend and a cop in 1997, when he was still under the influence of drugs and alcohol. Sober for five years with Nicorette as the only substance he still enjoys, CSlate says a lot of intelligent, compassionate things about addicts and addicition -- including a few words about reaching out to Lindsay Lohan. I think the interview is worth reading. Of course, to me, Charlie will always be J.D. to Winona Ryder's Veronica. Our love is God, Chuckie. Let's get a slushie. [Details]
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Isn't This A Biblical Sign Of Armageddon?
This just in at RadarOnline:
"EXCLUSIVE: Jon Gosselin's Ex Hailey Glassman Making Horror Film With Porn Star Sasha Grey"
It's good to know that in these uncertain times, people are still making art that helps us explore beauty and truth. I smell an Oscar!
Posted by Renée Z. at 10:13 AM 0 comments
Labels: Famewhores, Hailey Glassman, Jon Gosselin, Movies
Somebody Get This Man A Dictionary
"Look at Bill Gates or Mark Zuckerberg...Two guys that didn't finish college ended up billionaires. Sometimes just raw energy and intelligence wins out." - Scott Sassa, a friend of Kardashian matriarch Kris Jenner, explaining to The Hollywood Reporter why he isn't shocked that the Kardashians made $65 million last year. Yes, $65 million. And, yes, Sassy just compared Kim/Kourtney/Khloe to Bill Gates. And, yes, he just insinuated that "intelligence" is partly responsible for their success. Hmm. I guess that's true, if by "intelligence" he means "shameless famewhoring, unsolicited nudity, and complete dearth of discretion." Same thing, right?
Posted by Renée Z. at 9:45 AM 0 comments
Labels: Bill Gates, Famewhores, Kardashians, Mark Zuckerberg
Is That What They Mean By "Crying On The Inside?"
"Some of the stories I hear… I'm not going to name names (but) this is the worst. Eating tissue, Kleenex, so it fills the stomach. So you're full. So you don't want another bite to eat and so that's what you eat." - Janet Jackson in an interview with Piers Morgan on CNN, discussing Hollywood's obsession with weight. Oy vey. I thought I knew quite a bit about eating disordered behavior, but evidently I'm a rookie. Kleenex? Jeezus. Janet has lived with her own horrific body image struggles, so I know she's sensitive to them, but might I gently suggest that she doesn't offer any more tips for starving girls? Thanks. Now resume being groovy, MissJacksonIfYou'reNasty.
Diet Secret of The Stars...Kleenex? [Perez]
Posted by Renée Z. at 7:42 AM 0 comments
Labels: Body Image, Eating Disorders, Janet Jackson
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
It's That Time Again!
Charlie Sheen was on DirectTV's "The Dan Patrick Show," and he had this to say about Lindsay Lohan:
"You get Lindsay on the show, I will call in. I've got some advice for her. I've got some things I would recommend she consider because I don't tell anybody what to do. Work on your impulse control. Just try to think things through a little bit before you do them."
Charlie Sheen is giving advice again! You know what that means: It's time to play "What's Next?!"
What's next? Lady Gaga signs on as creative director for Brooks Brothers?
What's next? Rachel Zoe publishes a cookbook?
What's next? Gwyneth Paltrow performs at the Grammys? Oh, wait -- shit. Dammit, Gwyneth.
Charlie Sheen Gives Lindsay Lohan Advice On 'Dan Patrick Show' [HuffPost]
Posted by Renée Z. at 11:01 AM 0 comments
Labels: Charlie Sheen, Gwyneth Paltrow, Lady Gaga, Lindsay Lohan, Rachel Zoe, Rehab
If that last post has you down or -- like me -- blinded by rage, here's a little refresher. The top headline right now at RadarOnline:
EXCLUSIVE: JLo's Grammy Emergency! Paramedics Rushed To Her Aide After She Stabbed Her Leg With Her High Heels
Thanks for that, JLo. Resume singing or dancing or judging or boycotting pants or whatever it is you're up to today. Cheers.
Posted by Renée Z. at 10:21 AM 0 comments
Labels: Jennifer Lopez, Palate Cleanser
Did They Mention She's Beautiful?
"Battle-tough beauty no 'wimpy girly-girl'" - the headline of a story in today's New York Post about Lara Logan, the CBS reporter who suffered a brutal sexual assualt in Egypt on Friday. In the Post's defense (sort of) the title references a quotation from an equally idiotic "source" who told the news rag, "She's not a wimpy, girly girl -- she had a pocket for lipstick sewn into her flak jacket as a joke." So while the post didn't coin that particular insulting phrase, they did manage to spin their report into a page long statement on Logan's looks and shocking toughness -- because that's what sexual assault is about: hotness and how wimpy women usually are. To wit, here's the opening of the article:
"When war reporter Lara Logan's co-workers learned that she had to be hospitalized after being attacked in Egypt, they knew it was serious. Logan, CBS's chief foreign correspondent, is known as much for her toughness as for her good looks, so it was clear things were bad."
Because if a woman is NOT known as much for her toughness as her good looks, then she'd probably be exaggerating the whole assault thing. Great point. I'm curious; would that supposed dichotomy be relevant to the seriousness of her injuries if she were a man? The article goes on to discuss Logan's beauty, modeling career, and love triangle -- along with a few paragraphs they threw in about her journalism career. I wonder what the angle would have been if Logan didn't fit the Post's definition of beauty? How would that story be told? I'm already sick to my stomach writing about this, so let's just remind the Post that Lara Logan is an amazingly brave and skilled reporter who has suffered an unthinkable horror. Stereotypes about her gender and sensational "news" items about her looks and love affairs is not only disrespectful to all women, but, much more importantly, insulting to Logan. Keep up the great work, NY Post.
Posted by Renée Z. at 9:27 AM 6 comments
Labels: Lara Logan, New York Post, Women
Stupidest Thing I've Heard This Week, Volume 16
"Last night they were honoring someone who is my idol, Aretha Franklin, and there is no way I could have sat there and not got the happy feet and wanting to jump on the mic because she is my favorite so I felt like, you know, at the end of the day I should have been on that stage so, I kind of did my own little thing last night." - Fantasia Barrino, on BET's "106 & Park,"explaining why she wasn't at the Grammys. Are you f*cking kidding me? You boycotted the Grammys because they didn't ask you to sing in the opening number? Are you going to give back the "Best Female Vocal Performance" award they gave you? I'm not sure why Fantasia is so offended that she wasn't included in the Aretha Franklin tribute with Christina Aguilera, Jennifer Hudson, Florence Welch, Yolanda Adams and Martina McBride; I mean, I can think of a few reasons to exclude her. Like, maybe they decided to shy away from almost-famous singers who have made a career out of faking suicide attempts. JUST SAYING.
Fantasia Boycotted Grammys Over Aretha Franklin Tribute Snub [The Hollywood Reporter]
Posted by Renée Z. at 8:19 AM 0 comments
Labels: Fantasia, Grammys, Stupidest Thing
I Love Justin Bieber. You Heard Me.
"She went in for a hug and I was like, oooh, let's hold up on that. You have meat on you." - The Biebs, explaining to Chelsea Handler his reaction to Lady Gaga when she tried to hug him while wearing the infamous beef ballgown. Then, Chelsea asked JB what he thought of LG's Grammy night egg entrance. Quoth he of the coif, "People say it's artistic and stuff. I'm just like, 'you're an egg.'" For all of the bloggers and music journalists and snarkers who have spent the last 24 hours discussing Gaga's sartorial embryo, I think that about sums it all up. Well done, Biebs.
Posted by Renée Z. at 7:51 AM 0 comments
Labels: Chelsea Handler, Justin Bieber, Lady Gaga
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Breaking News: Donald Trump Is A Tool
"I'm not in favor of gay marriage. I live in New York. New York is a place with lots of gays, and I think it is great. But I'm not in favor of gay marriage." - Donald Trump during his interview by Greta Van Susteren on Fox News. What the f*ck does that mean? "New York is a place with lots of gays, and I think it is great." Great how exactly? I'd love to hear Donnie explain the subtleties of his position -- he's been married three times, remember, so we should definitely take seriously his ostensible defense of the sanctity of heterosexual marriage. Think big, Donald!
Posted by Renée Z. at 2:11 PM 1 comments
Labels: Donald Trump, LGBT, Marriage Equality
Humorless Post, Volume Two
You know what they say about "a few rotten apples," right? That they spoil the most inspirational political event in recent history with brutal sexual assault? Or is that not how it goes? Regardless, CBS News has issued an official statement saying that correspondent Lara Logan was sexually assaulted on Friday while in Egypt covering Mubarak's resignation for "60 Minutes." According to the statement, Logan was amidst the celebration in Tahrir Square when a frenzied mob separated her from her crew. Surrounded, Logan suffered a "brutal and sustained sexual assault and beating before being saved by a group of women and an estimated 20 Egyptian soldiers." Lara Logan is now in a US hospital recovering. Her attack frollows a report in 2005 by The Committee to Protect Journalists that claimed that "journalists in Egypt suffer numerous forms of discrimination including...sexual assault of female journalists."
I don't have anything to add to this. Well, of course I do. Don't I always? I know a few women who report the real news (not the F-Bomb type of news, that is), and one in particular who travels to war zones to do so, and I just want to say that they rock. I'm pretty cozy here behind my laptop whining about Taylor Momsen, but it is never lost on me that there are women (and of course men) out there bravely fighting the good fight to bring fair, balanced, and important information to the masses. And I'm not talking about anyone at Fox News, for the record.
Mad props to Lara Logan. Get well.
Posted by Renée Z. at 1:43 PM 1 comments
Labels: Egypt, Humorless, Lara Logan
Coming Soon: Facebook Air! Facebook Blood Cells! Facebook DNA!!
Today at HTC's Mobile World Congress Event, Mark Zuckerberg announced that Facebook phones are in development. MZuck said that there will be as many as a dozen "phones with a deeper social integration" coming in 2011. Phew. I mean, I was starting to worry that there wasn't enough Facebook in our lives. Thank goodness Zucky heard my silent pleas, because I'd hate to be somewhere where I didn't have access to my ninth-grade language lab partner's Farmville inventory. That was a close one.
(Disclaimer: I dig Facebook -- usually. It's a daily struggle. For more on my love/hate relationship with Zuckerberg's baby, read this. Or this. And there's also this.)
Zuckerberg Claims "Multiple" Facebook Phones Coming This Year [Gizmodo]
Posted by Renée Z. at 11:22 AM 0 comments
Labels: Facebook, Technology
For Those Of You Dreaming Of Justifiable Homicide...
...Just move to South Dakota! One catch: you'll have to kill a doctor who performs abortions. So, if you suffer from pro-life based or just plain old non-specific violent rage, you'll be glad to know that South Dakota lawmakers are considering a bill that would alter the state's legal definition of justifiable homicide to make it legal to kill an abortion provider. Bill 1171, sponsored by State Representative Phil Jensen, states that homicide is A-OK if committed "while resisting an attempt to harm" an unborn child related to the killer. Get it? If someone to whom you are related is planning to have an abortion, you will be able to kill anyone who tries to provide the abortion. So, if the Republican-backed bill passes, doctors, nurses, volunteers, and counselors in South Dakota will be easy targets for murder, and women will have to weigh control over their bodies against gun violence. That's cool. I think it's great when a leglislature gets what it wants by threatening people's lives. Isn't that what democracy is all about? Yay South Dakota Republicans! Also: you're dangerously f*cking insane.
South Dakota Moves to Legalize Killing Abortion Providers [Mother Jones]
Posted by Renée Z. at 10:44 AM 0 comments
Labels: Abortion, Reproductive Rights, Women's Health
Cry Me A River, Billy Ray
"I'm scared for her. She's got a lot of people around her that's putting her in a great deal of danger. I know she's 18, but I still feel like as her daddy I'd like to try to help." - Billy Ray Cyrus, telling GQ magazine that he is worried about his daughter, Miley. NOW he's worried. That's cute, Billy. Papa Cyrus admits that he was more of a friend to Miley than a parent, hence facilitating her descent into poll-dancing, salvia-smoking, barely-dressed pop tartery, but he insists that he was not allowed to participate in decisions about her career and that he has long objected to its trajectory. Hmm. That's weird, because I am certain I remember Billy Ray defending 16 year-old Miley's stripper pole routine, saying, "You know what? I just think that Miley loves entertaining people. I always tell her to love what you're doing and stay focused for the love of the art and not worry so much about opinion." But then, Billy doesn't take too much responsibility. In fact, he says that his family is...wait for it...under attack by Satan. Quoth he of the achy and breaky heart, "We are right now. There is no doubt about it...Entering this industry, you are now on the highway to darkness." (Did I mention Billy Ray is promoting a new album?) Billy Ray also blames "Hannah Montana," claiming the show "destroyed [his] family." (Did I mention that Billy Ray was on the show, too?). What a crazy life you've had, Billy! All these invisible people and entities forcing you into making bad decisions for your child! Horrible! Hey, I have a great idea. Stop trying to exonerate yourself and talk to your kid. JACKASS.
Posted by Renée Z. at 9:17 AM 0 comments
Labels: Billy Ray Cyrus, Kids, Miley Cyrus, Teens
Monday, February 14, 2011
Let's lock up and antagonize an animal and then kill it! Yippee! Here we have video of a bullfight gone "wrong" in Medellin, Colombia this past Saturday. After being fatally stabbed for entertainment, this bull musters one last charge at the bullfighter, breaking the matador's collarbone and then flipping him over before falling over himself. Oh, and then the bull dies. For his part in the fight, the matador gets to bow and be celebrated. I'm sure he'll get lots of flowers in the hospital. For his part, the bull gets to die a painful, angry death with bloody knives hanging out of his back while people cheer for his pain. I don't need to point out that the matador chooses to be there and the bull does not, do I? I won't, then. STAY CLASSY, HUMANS!
Raw Video: Bull Tosses Matador Around The Ring [Yahoo]
Posted by Renée Z. at 1:33 PM 0 comments
Labels: Animals, Bullfights
Wherein I Throw Up In My Mouth
"Playboy Mansion outbreak linked to illness that brews in warm water" - a headline from today's Los Angeles Times. It seems that dozens of people who attended an event at the Playboy Mansion have come down with legionellosis, an illness caused by bacteria that grows in warm water. You know, like in heated pools. Or hot tubs. That's right, people: this means there is bacteria at the Playboy Mansion. Bathtubs and bathtubs full of body fluid bacteria. What a shock! And by that I mean, "No duh!" It seems negligent on Hef's part that all visitors aren't treated to a complimentary Silkwood scrub down upon exiting the smut den, but that's just me. Carry on, Bunnies. (Well, once that pesky water-borne infection clears up, anyway.)
Posted by Renée Z. at 10:31 AM 2 comments
Famewhore Hall Of Fame, Volume One
The story goes like this: Once upon a time, a young porn star was paid $30,000 to pleasure Charlie Sheen for a weekend while he inhaled a briefcase full of cocaine. A few days later, the young porn star invited TMZ to photograph her after she cashed her paycheck. After a bit more time passed, the lovely lady noticed a decrease in the public's interest in her and her porniness. She decided that the best PR move would be to send the text you see above to Charlie and then pass it on to TMZ so that the world could enjoy and benefit from her terrifying lack of self-respect and shameless desperation for fame. The end. Of the world, I mean -- not the story. I'm sure there are more chapters to come in this uplifting tale of everything that's wrong with society. Stay tuned!
Posted by Renée Z. at 10:00 AM 0 comments
Labels: Charlie Sheen, Famewhores, Hall of Fame, Kacey Jordan, Revolting
Quick and Dirty, Grammy Edition
I didn't know Madonna was scheduled to perform!: Oh, Lady Gaga. I liked "Born This Way" much better the first time, when it was called "Express Yourself." Although, to be fair, it wasn't like the whole song was a ripoff of "Express Yourself." There was, after all, the spoken word verse in the middle that was taken directly from "Vogue." I think it's fair to say that when someone starts wearing raw meat dresses and prosthetic shoulder tips, she's out of ideas. Speaking of meat dresses -- and egg entrances -- what's with the dairy farm motif, LG? I guess nothing says musical genius like e-coli and salmonella.
Stereotyping sycophant says what?: On the red carpet, Ryan Seacrest was his usual obsequious self, asking the expected questions, pronouncing all his letters, and including all his verbs. Then Swizz Beatz walked up, and Ryan asked him in his best gangsta lilt, "Whachu workin' on?" Good boy, Ryan. Everyone knows you can't use proper English with hip-hop artists. Jackass.
How discriminatory! Evidently, the best way to get nominated for a Grammy is to knock-up Kate Hudson. After watching and hearing Muse perform, I can't think of any other reason why they were there. Seems like a lot to commit to just for an award, but I'm not one to judge. Oh, wait a minute; yes I am. Look, I'm fine with this loophole, as long as they set up an equivalent for women. I request Bruno Mars. Let's make that happen, National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences. Mama needs a cute trophy for her shelf. And a Grammy would be cool, too.
Holy 1986, Batman: Okay, so, haters gonna hate, but I have no gripe with Justin Bieber. He seems like a nice boy, and, come on, we could be dealing with MUCH WORSE. As for Usher, he's kind of a self-satisfied tool, but the boy can dance. Put the two together and what do you get? You get Starlight Express meets Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo. That number was a big bucket o' suck. Sorry, gentlemen.
Alarms are sounding at Urban Outfitters around the country: Both Mumford and Sons and Avett Brothers were awesome last night, but I was surprised and a little scared that the Grammy people put them on the same stage at the same time. I mean, what if their hipster force fields had crossed? There'd have been sweaters and irony everywhere! Oh the humanity!
How can I put this?: Go away, Gwyneth. I can't take much more. Cee-Lo was just hangin' out at the piano being amazing, and then Gwynnie came out with her unitard and her nasal, soul-free assault and effed it all up. In her defense, though, at least she managed to "cleanse" herself down to 95 pounds for the show. Now that I mention it, maybe that was the problem; even her voice was hungry. How about a sandwich and some silence, GPal? Please?
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Let's Hope It Happens Then
"That trash is delusional and I would sooner stab … knives into my own eyes than see her on this network." - Andy Cohen, Senior Vice President of Original Programming at Bravo, responding to rumors that Heidi Montag Pratt will be joining the cast of "The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills." It seems that ACo thinks his trash is superior to Heidi's trash, which is pretty fascinating. I mean, if I do the famewhore math, where x is equal to cosmetic surgery procedures and y is equal to shameless narcissism....okay, equations aren't my strong suit. The point is, Andrew, that you are as culpable as the Pratts on the DestructionOfSociety-o-meter, so settle the f*ck down.
(You can read more about Andy's Housewives here and here.)
Posted by Renée Z. at 7:53 AM 0 comments
Labels: Andy Cohen, Famewhores, Heidi Montag, Real Housewives
Delusions of Grandeur, Volume One
"I don't think he's very happy with me. He just was not very nice to me. He just kind of snubbed me a little bit." - Ashton Kutcher, telling Scott Mills of BBC Radio 1 that George W. Bush "snubbed" him at The Super Bowl. Ashton continued, "I think I said some mean things during the election. I feel like he probably does not like me very much." Oh, that's quaint, Ashy. But let's unpack this. You think that the former President ignored you at a football game because you said some bad things about him during the election? Yeah, because politicians NEVER have to deal with their opponents. Look, I dread W as much as the next lucid human being, but something tells me that the leader of the free world wasn't sweating the guy from "Dude, Where's My Car?" Just saying.
Ashton Kutcher: George W. Bush Snubbed Me At The Super Bowl [HuffPost]
Posted by Renée Z. at 6:23 AM 0 comments
Friday, February 11, 2011
Empirical Evidence Be Damned
"I would never steal, in case people are wondering. I was not raised to lie, cheat, or steal." - Lindsay Lohan, on Twitter last night. I'm just going to leave that line alone. There isn't really a need to comment, is there? But, in her defense, LiLo was clearly a little rattled last night, as the Tweet captured above illustrates. Facebook, Twitter -- it's all the same. Sort of like not stealing and stealing. Or lying and not lying. Don't we all get those confused? Get some rest, Linds.
Posted by Renée Z. at 7:59 AM 0 comments
Labels: Lindsay Lohan, Twitter
Anybody Check This Guy's References?
"Stay off the crack. Drink a chocolate milk." - Charlie Sheen, in an anti-drug speech to the UCLA baseball team yesterday. Charlie Sheen in an anti-drug speech? Weeks after he shared a "briefcase full of cocaine" with a posse of strippers and ended up in the hospital? Months after he defended his drug-fueled, hotel-trashing, prostitute-tormenting weekend by saying, "If a guy has one bad night, everybody goes insane and panics. I'm not panicking." That guy? Really? Well, there's only one thing to do in a situation like this. Let's play one of my favorite games! It's called "What's Next?" It's easy. Watch:
What's next? Lindsay Lohan speaks to NYU's Drama Department about cultivating a life-long film career?
What's next? Kim Kardashian speaks to BYU's sororities about being popular without taking your clothes off?
What's next? P. Diddy talks to MSNBC about recession-proofing your budget?
Your turn; try it! It's fun.
Thanks to Chuckie for the laughs. And mad props to UCLA for what are clearly very high standards. Keep up the good work, people!
Posted by Renée Z. at 7:26 AM 0 comments
Labels: Charlie Sheen, WTF
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Eenie, Meenie, Miney, Moe; Catch A Famewhore By The Toe
It seems that "The Bachelor's" Brad Womack can't decide whom he likes best: Ashley Hebert, Chantal O'Brien and Michelle Money. Fortunately for him, the show's producers came up with a sure fire way to judge the ladies' suitability: a swimsuit photo shoot! People reports that Brad and his concubines will appear in Sports Illustrated on February 15 in photos taken on the show, which airs on Valentine's Day. Because nothing says true love like a swimsuit competition! Somehow I doubt any of the lovely ladies was offended at the idea of stripping and posing for the magazine. So, you know: no harm, no foul. Stay classy, ABC.
Posted by Renée Z. at 8:19 AM 0 comments
Labels: Famewhores, Sports Illustrated, The Bachelor
Don't Ask, Don't Tell, Craigslist Style
Representative Christopher Lee, a Republican Congressman from New York, resigned last night after Gawker busted him soliciting mistresses on Craigslist. The 46 year-old married politician identified himself on the website as a 39 year-old divorcee looking for a woman friend. And then he sent one lucky lady the shirtless photo you see above. Swoon! As one would expect, Lee supports DADT. Because a lying philanderer is exactly the right guy to decide that your sexuality is problematic. Oh, and he opposes abortion funding, too. Duh. I mean, his shirtless body is available for viewing, so your uterus is fair game too, ladies. In case you wish there were a word or a phrase to describe conservative politicians who preach family values while dismantling them behind the scenes, you're in luck! The late, great Sigmund Freud identified this behavior as reaction formation, a defense mechanism in which one deals with his own "unacceptable" impulses by publicly taking a stand against them. So there's your fancy phrase. Personally, I prefer "douchebaggery" to "reaction formation," but to each his own.
Posted by Renée Z. at 7:46 AM 0 comments
Labels: Christopher Lee, Craigslist, Politics, Reaction Formation, Sex Scandals
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Yadda, Yadda, Yadda, Blah, Blah, Blah
So, Lindsay was just arraigned. Short story shorter: she'll return to court on February 23. Her probation has been revoked due to, well, her probation violation. Her bail has been set at $20,000 for the new case and $20,000 for the old (probation revoked) case. The judge gave Lindsay what I am sure he feels was a zinger of a speech, telling her that if she breaks any laws waiting to return to court, she will go to jail without bail. With a verbal shake of the finger, he said, "You need to understand...You're in a different situation now that a felony has been filed against you...If you violate the law, I will remand you and set no bail. And your attorney will not be successful this time. You need to follow the laws just like everybody else. Look around this room; everyone needs to follow the law... Please. Don't push your luck." Yeah, um, a little late for that, dude. Chances are Lilo will settle the theft case by pleading down to shoplifting and do 4-6 months in the clink. All to say: here we go again. Someone help this girl -- please. There's no luck left to push.
Posted by Renée Z. at 2:10 PM 0 comments
Labels: Lindsay Lohan
Stupidest Thing I've Heard This Week, Volume 15
Sure, it's only Wednesday, but I think we can safely say that Representative Phil Gingrey from Georgia has the title wrapped up. After returning from a trip to the U.S. border with a congressional delegation he organized, Gingrey assured a Georgia news station that his hardline stance on immigration has nothing to do with prejudice. Quoth PGing:
"It's not xenophobia on my part. If I had to choose from immigrants across the globe, my favorite alien would be our Hispanic and Latino residents coming from across the Southern border."
No word on the bizarre circumstances under which Phillie would have to "choose his favorite immigrant." But, now that I think about it, given his burning desire to strip children of immigrants of their American citizenship, it's safe to say Gingrey has engaged in some crazy, megalomaniacal game show fantasy wherein immigrants compete for his affection and the title of "Phil's Favorite Alien." One can imagine how thrilled Latinos are that they beat out E.T. for the win. I smell a celebration!
Phil Gingrey goes to border, calls Latinos his "favorite aliens" [Salon]
Posted by Renée Z. at 11:30 AM 0 comments
Labels: Immigration, Rep. Gingrey
All Undressed And No Place To Go
Here is 17 year-old Taylor Momsen at the L.A. premiere of 16 year-old Justin Bieber's new movie. I feel like she's trying to send a message, don't you? A few things come to mind -- primarily, "How insane do I have to look and act before someone hears my cries for help?" The answer to which is evidently "naked and turning tricks." Hey! Mr. and Mrs. Momsen! Look alive!
Posted by Renée Z. at 11:00 AM 0 comments
Labels: Taylor Momsen, Teens
WHAT THE F**KING F**KITY F**K F**K?????!!!!! VOLUME F*CKING THREE
It was a pretty calm morning here in pop culture news, and then...this:
"As a Miss San Antonio reigning queen, she has to live up to our rules and regulations and the standards of our contract...She was doing a photo shoot and asked to wear her wardrobe from the competition, but it did not fit her. I told her we need to get you on an exercise program. We need to get ready to compete for Miss Texas, just like any elite athlete." - Linda Woods, spokesperson for the Miss Bexar County Organization, explaining why Miss San Antonio, Domonique Ramirez, had her title revoked.
So the 17 year-old Ramirez lost her crown for gaining weight. That's cool. Nothing about that makes me crazy. I don't see any reason why a teenager shouldn't be fired from her post in a "scholarship competition" for growing. Make perfect sense.
Ramirez is suing the board for unfair termination. I'm mixing a bloody mary. Good morning!
Teen Beauty Queen Dethroned For Gaining Weight [Jezebel]
Posted by Renée Z. at 10:13 AM 0 comments
Labels: Beauty Queens, Body Image, Pageants, Teens
Hello, Kettle? This Is The Pot. You're Black.
"If they charge her, they are simply feeding a horrible machine that plays off people getting exposure through people's pain." - Michael Lohan, to X17Online, speaking about the pending felony grand theft charges against his daughter, Lindsay. Hmm. "Getting exposure through people's pain" sounds like Mikey's parenting/famewhoring philosophy to me. I'd also like to ask him how, exactly, prosecuting someone for a crime is feeding a horrible machine and who, exactly, is getting exposure through Lindsay's alleged theft. But, you know, I don't speak insufferable moron.
Posted by Renée Z. at 9:56 AM 0 comments
Labels: Lindsay Lohan, Michael Lohan
Hump Day, Arraignment Day, Same Difference
You probably know by now that Lindsay Lohan is going to be charged today with felony grand theft pertaining to that whole stolen necklace debacle. Honestly, this isn't even interesting anymore. It's boring and sad. But just in case you like photos of self-destructive young women who have had their lives destroyed by narcissistic, emotionally diseased parents leaving the salon after getting their hair done for court where they will answer charges that may very likely land them in jail for the third time and therefore call into question the validity of their sobriety, HERE YOU GO.
Photo via RadarOnline.
Posted by Renée Z. at 8:59 AM 0 comments
Labels: Lindsay Lohan
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Dear God, I'm Sry 4 My Sins SMH TTYL!
The Catholic Church has approved "Confession," a smartphone app for Roman Catholics who need to confess RIGHT NOW. The app costs $1.99 and allows the user to log in with a password, reflect on his sins, and confess them by typing them into the app. BUT, if the sinner wants to be absolved, he has to visit a priest. I mean, don't be silly. A smartphone app can't absolve you! That would be crazy. Only a random person who may or may not have a relationship with your God can do that. On one hand, I want to congratulate the Catholic Church for trying to stay current, but unfortunately all that pesky anti-gay nonsense and sanctioned child abuse stuff makes it hard for me to celebrate. Still, I'm also not one to dis anyone's religious choices, so if you are Catholic with a heavy conscience, THERE'S AN APP FOR THAT!
Posted by Renée Z. at 10:44 AM 0 comments
Labels: Catholic Church, Technology
I Weighed A Girl And I Liked It
"I was shaped like a square at one time. I was! I'm generally around 130 pounds, which is totally fine for me. But when I was a kid, I was the same height and weighed more like 145." - Katy Perry, in this month's Elle magazine. I suspect Katy thinks she's some sort of champ for revealing her weight, and, in fact, at her height, 130 pounds is most likely healthier than average among celebrity women. But imagine reading this if you are a young fan who has the unfortunate lot in life of weighing a square-like 145? Evidently that is not "totally fine." Don't get me wrong; I'm not ripping Katy for having a weight at which she is most comfortable (and a healthy one at that). I have one, too. Most women I know -- for better or for worse -- have one. But it is pretty obviously irresponsible to talk numbers when you know young women are listening. Which is weird, because I would have thought that a woman who squirts whipped cream from her bra would be a genius. Who knew?
INFURIATING UPDATE #1: RadarOnline posted a bit about Katy's Elle interview. Here's the intro:
"Singer Katy Perry is known for her curvaceous body, but the hourglass songstress wasn’t always a perfect 10, and says she’s dropped nearly 15 pounds since her adolescence, RadarOnline.com has learned." So, let's review. 130 = Perfect 10. 145 = less than perfect. Got it, everyone? Grrrrr.
Posted by Renée Z. at 9:51 AM 0 comments
Labels: Body Image, Katy Perry, Magazines, RadarOnline
Don't Mess With Me, Amazon
Yesterday, PoliticalWire reported that Amazon had listed "Untitled Bristol Palin Memoir" as available for pre-order, with release scheduled for June 21. By the time PopEater and Jezebel picked up the story, Amazon had removed the listing. Oh, don't play coy, Amazon; the cat's out of the bag now. So what exactly is there about 20 year-old Bristol Palin that we don't already know? I'm pretty sure we know way too much about her callow, adolescent sex life...I know she can't dance...I know her mom is a barely literate, animal-killing, child-pimping famewhore...what's left to tell, BPal? In case you can't wait for Amazon to relist the book, you can always contact the publisher, William Morrow & Co., who also published Sarah Palin's crapfest, I mean book, Going Rogue. Keep up the good work, William Morrow! I smell a Pulitzer!
Posted by Renée Z. at 9:01 AM 0 comments
Labels: Books, Bristol Palin, Sarah Palin
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