1. Your MySpace page takes 5 minutes to load.
2. You call yourself Diablo even though your name is Brook.
3. You're always doing interviews in which you insist that you hate being famous.
4. You're writing a 1000-page novel, in the first-person present-tense, about the time a camp counselor grabbed hold of your crotch.
5. You're constantly retiring from music only to return again with a huge tour.
6. You have angel wings tattooed on your back.
7. You cry your eyes out on TV over a dog you gave away.
8. You're on an MTV reality show - and you're always forgetting your lines.
9. You're Kanye West.
10. You have a blog.
Posted by Melvin Ayatollahofrock'nrolla at 1:43 PM
Lindsay Lohan and Vanessa Minnillo get freaky with knives.
Paris's booking photo.
Paris not coping well with the whole jail thing.
Tom, Katie and Poshy cheer on David Beckham.
Suri endures her father long enough for the photographer to get the pic.
It was a busy weekend for Lindsay Lohan, who was in Capri accepting an award at a film festival, and was caught by the paps talking up no less than three different men. From top to bottom we have: Waiter Alessandro De Nivola, who Lindsay met shortly after arriving; actor Eduardo Costa, who has a lot in common with Lindsay including a high likelihood of developing skin cancer later in life; and another actor, Dario Faiella, the son of Italian music legend Peppino Di Capri (whoever that is).
Riley Giles wasn't lying about Lohan being a sex addict.
It is incorrect. She must have had about 30 babies by now.
Damn, think of the stretch-marks.
Anyway I told you Nicole wasn't really pregnant. When gossip editors get bored they tell their writers, "I know, let's say Nicole Kidman got knocked up again." Then they chomp a cigar or go back to playing Donkey Kong or whatever the fuck those people do when they're not barking orders.
Paris is in Las Vegas for one of her annual New Year's party hosting gigs. She apparently ran into Federline at a club (he's not home with the kids?) and decided to stand next to him smiling. I don't know if they had sex, and I don't want to know.
Hayden Panettiere was also invited to the Capri Film Festival to receive a special commendation. History (of a sort) was made when Ms. Hayden was photographed sitting next to the one and only Lindsay Lohan, the person she has succeeded as the favorite of wanking pervs everywhere. I wonder what sort of words passed between these two titans of twittery?
"Wow I really love your hair."
"Thanks those are great tights."
"Thanks you fucking no-talent cow."
"Nice to see you twat-faced cum-trap."
"Bite me bitch."
"Hey you wanna hook up later?"
"Cool, I'll bring the camera. X17 will give us $50,000 for that."
Forget all that ducking and denying Heroes co-stars Hayden Panettiere and Milo Ventimiglia have done about their relationship: They're screwing, and this is coming straight from Milo himself, who confirmed the long-rumored more-than-friends situation while toasting Hayden during a pre-Christmas party in L.A.
"He called her his girlfriend and said that he loved her," a fellow partygoer reported, adding that the two spent most of the night holding hands and probably making goo-goo eyes at each other.
Milo's 30 and Hayden's 18. But, we all know women age faster than men. In two years Hayden will already be a used-up ho and Milo will be sniffing around Hannah Montana.
Lindsay Lohan is in Italy for the Capri Film Festival, which is reportedly set to honor the starlet for - no joke - her outstanding contribution to cinema.
Obviously, the Capri Film Festival is having trouble attracting real stars and had to go waaaaay down the list to find someone to give their dopey award to (even Tara Reid and Bud Bundy turned them down). Or, maybe people in Capri just have a really, really ironic sense of humor. The only thing I know is that, when Lindsay is given her "honor," there will be no doubt in her damaged little brain that she deserves it. She is not going there thinking the whole thing is just a publicity grab by the festival - she's convinced she's some kind of great actress and this is just validation. Which is why I sincerely wish the Capri people had not done this.
It's fine if people like Lohan want to have careers in movies, but why do they have to be propped up in their delusions? It's like Martin Lawrence being invited to Inside the Actor's Studio. Stupid bastard sat there sucking up ex-pimp James Lipton's counterfeit flattery ("Next we come to your great masterpiece Big Momma's House.") and by the end of it he probably thought he was Olivier. Lohan's going to walk out of the Capri fest with her citation or trophy or gift certificate from The Olive Garden thinking, "Cate Blanchett? Who needs that scrawny bitch. I'm going to win ten Oscars."
It's Saturday so that means Nicole Kidman must be pregnant again. Seriously, this chick gets knocked up more often than Tara Reid falls on her ass - and yet she never actually gets around to pumping out a kid. The latest "report" comes from The Daily Mail which says Kidman and husband Keith Urban broke the pregnancy news to their families over Christmas. When I see a big huge belly on Kidman I'll believe it. Hopefully, if she does finally have a kid, it will call her "mom" and not "Nicole" or "skinny taut-faced lady we're not allowed to call mother cause our midget daddy said he'd shoot us in the ass with his ray-gun."
It's a funny place - I could never live in Hollywood, because there's nowhere to escape to. You find yourself sitting around a lot and every conversation you have is about the movies. I think you have to be in a city that has different walks of life that you can observe - and, for me, that's London.
What an impressive young lady Ms. Knightley is. Positively brimming-over with wisdom and insight. How refreshing to know not everyone in the movies is completely wrapped up in themselves.
The city of Beijing has become almost unlivable due to high levels of air pollution caused by coal burning and a larger number of cars on the roads. The government has issued a warning that small children and old people should cut down their outdoor activities as much as possible. But if the children and oldsters can't go outside, how will they get to the sweat-shops to make the lead-tainted toys to sell to American kids to give them neurological disorders as part of the world takeover plan?
Posted by Melvin Ayatollahofrock'nrolla at 2:33 PM
Mischa Barton finally got bailed out yesterday and tried to sneak out the back of the police station all wrapped up in a blanket. Didn't work. Paps still got her. Well Mischa, you do something desperate to get attention, you have to expect...attention. Right?
The theme of this movie is how the world is going to hell in a handcart and old upstanding grizzled farts like Tommy Lee Jones can't do shit to save it. It's a grim-ass thing too - cause if Tommy Lee Jones can't save us, who the fuck can?
I actually read this book (amazingly, since I almost never bother reading, as you could probably guess by the "depth" of my insights). It was good. There was lots of hard-scrabble lyricism and descriptions of arroyos. I looked up "arroyo" and it means "a dry creek bed or gulch that temporarily fills with water after a heavy rain." "Gulch" is a good word too by the way and so is "creosote." Books filled with words like this always feel very poetic and spare and beautiful. Then Cormac McCarthy - guy who wrote the book; Oprah interviewed him awhile ago after apparently threatening to kill him if he didn't agree to do it - describes these horrifically violent shootings and stuff, and the thought that pops into your head is, "Wow, this would make a really great movie. Hell, you wouldn't even have to write a script, you could just use the book as your script."
So the Coen Brothers came along and made the movie, and I think they basically used the book as their script, cause I can't think of another movie that ever followed a book so closely, except for a few bits where they took some of the sheriff character's letters and wrote that into the dialogue to avoid having a lot of dopey narration. This is not one of those funny Coens movies by the way. This is more toward the serious, realistically-rendered end of things, like Fargo except without that little snarky wink caused by trying to be hip about people from Minnesota. There's lots of detail, like the boot-marks all over the tile floor after a guy has gotten strangled to death, his feet kicking as he struggled with the killer. And there's tons of grimly sardonic dialogue again lifted almost verbatim from the source. This is all in Tommy Lee Jones's wheelhouse. He plays this Texas sheriff who can only cope with how messed-up the world is by being bitterly ironic about everything. But Tommy really only trails the main story which concerns this dude played by Josh Brolin who finds a bunch of drug money and tries to keep it, and is hunted down by an incredibly evil, ethnically indistinct guy named Anton Chigurh, who murders people with an air-gun.
Chigurh is the creepiest character since Hannibal Lecter (I mean the original Lecter from Silence of the Lambs, not one of Anthony Hopkins's whorish subsequent Lecter performances). Javier Bardem plays him without a hint of human warmth; he's like a robot programmed to believe that all existence is pre-ordained and he's just some kind of instrument of fate who has no choice himself (he occasionally lets his would-be victims off by flipping a coin and letting them call it; this is his one concession to the notion that destiny can be altered). What makes this guy so creepy is how polite he is. He reminds me of certain bullies I knew who would get you to do what they wanted by speaking in a gentle voice, asking you to "please" do this or that, then when you did it some horrible thing would befall you and they'd stand there laughing. Except Chigurh doesn't laugh, but places his air-gun gently to your forehead and impales your brain with the little rod that shoots out.
Chigurh is supposed to be some kind of metaphor for an evil that has crept into the human world, that is going to systematically and dispassionately annihilate all the good folks. Nothing can stop Chigurh - he can't be reasoned with or bought off; he can't even be locked out because he'll just take his air-gun and pop the lock. His advantage over all us regular folks is his knowledge of human nature. He knows that if he talks to certain people a certain way they'll do what he wants, and then he can kill them. He doesn't operate this way because he needs to necessarily, but because it makes life easier for him. Evil, the movie tells us, likes things tidy and convenient. If Chigurh were a manager at 7/11 it would be the best-run 7/11 in the history of the world, and you can bet none of his employees would mouth-off.
I'm glad the Coens made this movie, cause honestly, after that piece of shit with George Clooney and Catherine Zeta-Jones I thought they were done. Turns out they only needed a good piece of material to get them going again. This movie makes you think good and hard about the evil in the world and whether there really is some great tide of blood and shit about to sweep over us and destroy us all. I don't know if it's true, but if the coming evil has as bad a haircut as Chigurh, at least we'll all have a good laugh before we're shuffled off to the death-camps. I have to give this movie four Chips Ahoy out of four because it's clearly a work of art and when it was over I felt icky about the universe for a good fifteen minutes.
A mother's prayer for her kidnapped son to return home is answered, though it doesn't take long for her to suspect the boy who comes back is not hers.
So the kid comes home but Angie doesn't know if it's hers. I bet that kind of thing happens a lot to her in real life. You know, having two Asian kids. She looks at "Maddox" and for a second she's not sure...
Let Crabbie be the first to congratulate Mark Ruffalo and Ethan Hawke on their new baby. It was a long, hard pregnancy for Mark, but everything worked out great in the end. The couple says they may try for another baby next year.
Ashley Tisdale went into the plastic surgeon and said, "I want to look like Haylie Duff." The plastic surgeon immediately had her taken off for a psychological evaluation. She checked out, so he had to give her Haylie's nose. He then shot himself.
Barbados-born pop-star Rihanna fears touring all over the world is turning her white. She said in an interview:
In the beginning, I was dark. Now I've been through cold weather, and I'm slowly getting paler and paler.
Rihanna says a long vacation back home on the beaches of Barbados will give her back her original non-white complexion. Maybe she could take Barack Obama along with her?
Long-time Hollywood couple Sean Penn and Robin Wright Penn is no more reports People Magazine. Further details are officially unavailable, but a little birdy told Crabbie that Sean blubbered a lot when they broke up, while Robin stood there looking old and crinkly and not doing a hell of a lot.
Sean and Robin were married in 1996 and have two kids, both named after famed sixties counterculture figures. They appeared in a few movies together but those pretty much all sucked. Lately Penn has become an out-spoken Bush-hater and wannabe journalist, while Wright...I don't know, I guess she cooked his eggs? Now someone else will have to.
Universal has begun rolling out the promo pics for their forthcoming "re-loading" of The Incredible Hulk. Here we Bruce Banner himself, Edward Norton, staring intently at a little tiny bottle of something. And he's wearing a tank-top, which is not nearly as interesting as Eric Bana wearing a tank-top.
What brain-wizard at Universal decided Norton should be Banner instead of Bana by the way? Oh, I know - this isn't a sequel but a do-over. They're trying to pretend that first Hulk never existed. So Bana's out and Norton's in. There goes all Banner's sex-appeal. Norton, he's about as sexy as the bits of wet noodle that are always getting stuck in my drain.
Benazir Bhutto has been assassinated. So of course that means riots in the streets of Pakistani cities. Doesn't have a whole lot of meaning, considering the frivolous stuff people riot over in that part of the world. To those folks, an important leader like Bhutto dying is equal to some schlub publishing a cartoon in a newspaper or Richard Gere sucking on Shilpa Shetty. They have no sense of proportion. Unlike Americans, who only burn down things for good reasons, like their team winning a championship.
Posted by Melvin Ayatollahofrock'nrolla at 2:06 PM
Even Hitler didn't wake up going, "Let me do the most evil thing I can do today." I think he woke up in the morning and using a twisted, backwards logic, he set out to do what he thought was "good."
Various groups attacked Smith for, in their eyes, praising Hitler. The actor then issued a clarification, which read in part:
Adolf Hitler was a vile, heinous, vicious killer responsible for one of the greatest acts of evil committed on this planet.
Glad you cleared that up for us Will. Cause we were all starting to think maybe Hitler was just misunderstood.
Okay, I'll be serious for a minute - I don't think what Smith originally said was worthy of the headlines it got. It was just another case of a celebrity not thinking before speaking. The problem for Smith is, even if you think you have a point - which he may or may not have - you sort of need to stop and ask yourself if what you want to say is worth the backlash that could come. It's fine to think you're right, or semi-right, or have a point that's worth bringing into the discussion - but will saying the thing give certain people ammo to use against you, and do you really need the aggravation?
What did Smith think he had to gain by saying what he said in the first place? Did he think people were going to go, "Wow, that Will Smith is quite a philosopher. And here I thought he was just another Hollywood doofus. Goes to show, you never can tell..." If it was Will's intention to prove his smarts, then it backfired on him, cause all he proved was that he's not smart enough to smell trouble.
The good thing for Will is that his image is mostly a positive one and people will give him a pass. Such is not the case for Maggie Gyllenhaal, who did about the same thing as Will when she made her infamous comments about America deserving 9/11. People think she's a bitch anyway, so they'll continue bludgeoning her with that one for the rest of her natural life. And frankly she deserves it, the butt-ugly cow.
Riley Giles already talked shit about Lindsay Lohan to News of the World, calling her a sex addict, and now the jilted bastard is trying to cash in on his short relationship with the dippy starlet in an even bigger way by offering naughty pictures of her to the highest bidder.
And you thought Lindsay had trust issues with men before...
MSNBC reports that Giles has already signed with a photo agency, which yesterday sent out emails to tabloids containing sample pics of Lindsay "in various states of undress." But of course the tabs are all too upstanding to take advantage of anyone, and would therefore never dream of paying money to feature dirty pictures of Lindsay Lohan within their pages.
This Giles guy makes Lindsay's father Michael look almost human by comparison. He's still not as sleazy as Dina though. Least he's got something to shoot for.
Actress Mischa Barton was arrested this morning in West Hollywood, CA for DUI, narcotics possession and driving on a suspended license. At last report Mischa was still being held on $10,000 bail.
Sounds like someone was feeling a tad neglected. Too bad bitch couldn't have had a sudden, catastrophic meeting with a bridge abutment rather than be pulled over. Seriously, why do none of these idiot skanks ever kill themselves? Is there some secret law of physics I'm not aware of? "If the starlet be under 30 and insufferable in the extreme, she will consume large quantities of mind-altering substances and still be able to operate a vehicle with sufficient skill to avoid death, dismemberment or other serious damage to herself."
I'm not even going to get into the suspended license issue. Obviously, these silly, spoiled bitches all think those sorts of rules don't apply to them either. I hope they give Mischa 30 years. Make an example of her.
Eh...no one would notice if she vanished anyway. Whatever.
Paris Hilton might want to change her name to Poor-Ass Hilton after learning of her grandfather Barron's plans to donate 97% of his $2.3 billion fortune to charity rather than allow it to be doled out amongst his filthy, degenerate heirs as originally planned.
Paris, it has long been reported, stood to receive $20+ million upon the death of the family patriarch. But it has also been long-rumored that Barron was secretly disgusted by Paris's antics, and reports have circulated before about him wanting to cut her out of the will or at least greatly reduce her inheritance. This new announcement would seem to seal the deal on Paris's big pay-off - ain't gonna happen - unless Paris and the rest of Barron's heirs try some kind of legal challenge, which would be a tad ironic, given that Barron himself spent a decade fighting in the courts for money his late father Conrad originally earmarked for charity upon his own death.
But let's not start playing the world's smallest violin for Paris just yet. As we know, Paris has her own sources of income, including her movie career, which is set to take off in a big way when her sure blockbuster The Hottie and the Nottie is released in January. And then there's all the money Paris makes from showing up places so people can hurl things at her and generally bombard her with abuse. Oh, and there's the book she plans to write about her jail experiences. And a new album. And, surely, another reality show down the road.
Yup, Paris will easily make up that $20 million and more just by selling herself. We can look forward to years and years of Paris on TV, Paris in the movies, Paris's music playing at nightclubs...
Sweet Jesus Barron, we know you care about the starving Africans and the blind children and everything, but think of the rest of us. Just give the bitch her money so she'll go away. You want to do something good for mankind...that's better than anything else you could possibly do!
Transformers star Josh Duhamel asked his little meth-head sweetheart Fergie to be his wife and she said yes. No wedding date has yet been announced, but the couple has already registered at the dented trailer next to the big patch of burned-up grass alongside the highway ten miles south of town.
Kevin Federline had Sean Preston and Jayden James over Christmas (their mom was too busy huddling in gas station bathrooms pretending to have phone conversations for the benefit of the gullible paps). PageSix.com (which has already overtaken TMZ as the go-to gossip site - sorry Harv) reports that Federline had his cook prepare Filipino food for dinner, but that there was also a deep-fried turkey for those not interested in the primary fare. The guest-list featured most of Federline's family, including his divorced parents and their spouses (makes for a crowded deck when everyone goes out to have their smoke). Here's the kicker though - according to PageSix.com's source, Federline went cheap on gifts for SP and JJ because "he knew Britney would go nuts and get them more than they will ever need."
Oh yeah - Federline didn't want to overdo it gift-wise, so the credit card stayed in the pocket. More likely the credit card came out of the pocket, then got slid through the thingie and was rejected. Then the clerk tapped her foot and Federline got all sheepish. Something Kevin's used to by now I'd imagine.
And even if Britney did go nuts and buy the kids a bunch of toys - how much fun would it really be for them watching their giggling mommy playing with their shit?
"Here comes Spider Man. Woo. Look I'm Spider Man kids. Hey, I can do that for real. Watch me shoot webs out of my palms.
Come on god damn it. I swear I made it work last week..."
SP and JJ cringing away in horror. That's Christmas?
Alexandra Paressant, the woman who made headlines by claiming to have had sex with Eva Longoria's husband Tony Parker, is apparently a total nut-case who made up the whole thing, and suckered website X17.com into spreading her carefully-contrived fiction.
The truth about Paressant has now been uncovered by People magazine reporter Dana Kennedy who relates details of her investigation in a blog on The Huffington Post. Among Kennedy's revelations:
- Paressant filled her MySpace page with pictures of various similar-looking models, none of whom were Paressant herself.
- Paressant never had a relationship with soccer star Ronaldinho as has been rumored, but was responsible for creating said rumor herself by flooding message boards with it.
- The modeling agencies Paressant claimed to work for had received photos, emails and calls from her but no one at any of them had ever met her in person.
- The photos of "Paressant" on X17 were actually of a German model named Hana Nitsche.
- When Kennedy tried calling Paressant's alleged best friend Ornella Irie using a number provided by Paressant, the woman on the other side of the line was "unmistakeably Alexandra" herself.
- Paressant's mother once admitted to a French reporter that her daughter "liked to make up stories."
- Paressant emailed Kennedy a photo of her French resident card by way of proving her identity, but a friend of Alexandra's said the photo on the card was not Alexandra.
The fascinating element of this story is Paressant's use of the internet to spread her lies. She posted anonymously on message boards about her made-up affair with Ronaldinho, and over time, people actually came to believe she was his mistress. Then she used a MySpace page to create a whole fake Internet identity complete with pictures that weren't really her, and a friends section full of famous people she never met (again, friending famous folks is easy - I've gotten added to the friends lists of Cory Kennedy, Tori Spelling and Brody Jenner; okay, those people are not actually that famous but you get my drift - those MySpace pages are used for self-promotion; the whole point of them is to get added to other people's friends lists, so if you find a MySpace page with lots of famous people as friends, it doesn't mean jack-shit).
Paressant really upped the ante though when she went through X17, providing them with pics of text messages she allegedly passed back and forth with Parker. Again, an easy thing to fake. Unfortunately for X17, they didn't bother checking Paressant out, and now they've been sued for $20 million by Tony Parker who, judging by Kennedy's expose, is surely going to win. The lesson in all this: Never trust French sluts, especially if you're a website trying to compete with TMZ and Perez. And always get pay-off money up-front.
From May...You may have missed it when it happened (there was just so little media coverage), but Paris Hilton got sent to jail earlier this year. At least she looked cute at the courthouse right?
From April...Hugh Grant prepares to fling a container of beans at a pap. Look at that form!
From April...Amy Winehouse looks like she just crawled out from under a bridge.
Britney Spears is seething with rage at her sister Jamie Lynn's foray into the world of teen pregnancy, and the majority of said anger is being directed squarely at their mother Lynne, whom Britney reportedly reamed out over the phone a couple of days ago. A source for PageSix.com reports:
Britney basically went off on her the entire time, blaming her for her and Jamie Lynn's messed up life. It was a very hurtful call.
Another example of why Britney is nothing more than an ungrateful cow. Seriously, Britney should be down on her knees thanking Lynne - because where would Britney be in this world without her mother? Who would have pushed her into show-biz, allowing her to lead the extravagant life she now knows?
How many people get to spend their days driving from one Starbucks to the next, blowing thousands of dollars aimlessly, having absolutely no responsibilities or cares? Not many. But the superstar lifestyle is not enough for Britney - she wants love and affection and understanding too. Well, get over it Britney. Clearly your mother is incapable of loving anything but money. You're nothing to her but a source of income, and Jamie Lynn too. So what? You're young and sort of attractive from certain angles, and you have lots of money, and many desperate men want to have sex with you because of the money. Enjoy it while it lasts. And forget about love and the rest of that shit. That's for suckers.
Life sucks for the last man left alive in New York City. There's nothing to watch but old DVDs of the Today Show, the escaped zoo lions are running around eating all the game and just try and get a frapuccino anywhere. Oh, but things could be a lot worse - you could be the last man left alive in New York except for Rex Reed who keeps banging on your door at three in the morning wanting sex. How long would it be before you shot Rex and dragged his carcass out into the street for the buzzards? Not very long.
I Am Legend places Will Smith in a situation something like that outlined above (except for the stuff about Rex Reed). Will plays an army scientist (takes a second to get with the idea of Will playing a scientist, but all right) who got stuck in New York City after a new cancer cure turned into some kind of supervirus and killed most of the people and left most of the rest looking like Iggy Pop after a rough weekend. Now Will holes up at night in his super-reinforced Washington Square town house with his faithful dog Sam, and during the daytime goes out to shoot at deer with his big ole gun and hit golf balls off the tail of an SR-71 parked on the deck of the USS Intrepid. He has to stay inside at night cause the Iggy Pops are blood-thirsty vampire dudes who hiss and gnash their teeth, but get burned by UV rays during the daytime (thank God they never heard of Neutrogena Ultra Sheer Dry-Touch). When he's not listening to Bob Marley or hanging out with his mannequin friends at the DVD store, Will spends his time in his basement lab trying to find a cure for the Iggy Pop plague, but most of his test rats either die or behave like Perez Hilton when he's off his meds.
Will Smith has always run sort of 50/50 with his movie choices - he'll do something nice and amusing like Men in Black or I, Robot (yes, I liked I, Robot, so suck it) and then he'll turn around and do Wild Wild West or Men in Black 2. I Am Legend, I'm happy to announce, falls on the "good" side of Smith's ledger. Actually, I think it's probably the best thing he's ever done (never bothered seeing Pursuit of Happyness, mostly because of the kid). This is an incredibly suspenseful movie, not insultingly stupid or in-your-face like a lot of supposed blockbuster entertainments. What impressed me about it so much was how quiet it is. Amazingly, there are whole long stretches where you just get to watch Smith doing his daily post-Apocalypse Survivorman thing, and there's no portentous music or other silly Hollywood crap being thrust at you; there's no sense that the director thinks you're a 14-year-old boy who needs to have his attention drawn back from his cell-phone or his Gameboy or his willie or whatever the hell else is distracting him.
I have to say - and this may make me seem like a dope - but I pretty much went for all of this, even the last act which a lot of critics have ripped because it seems to veer off too far into the hokey/spiritual side of things. It's at least a physically impressive film with all the urban desolation and grass growing up through the streets and the lonely echoes as Smith fires his gun amid the empty skyscrapers which have become like the pyramids of the Maya, mutely testifying to the folly of a dead civilization. You can bitch all you want about the insane money Hollywood often spends on making crap, but watching a movie like this, one becomes grateful for all that wretched excess. This is what Hollywood does best when it's on its game - these absurdly well-detailed, fully-imagined depictions of fantasy worlds. Plus, Will Smith doing pull-ups - that's never a bad thing, you know?
I can't bear that scene. People work so hard to get where they are in this business, so it makes me angry when I see someone making a mockery of what we do, just trying to make five bucks.
You know what I think you should do then Renee? I think you should find Paris and kick the shit out of her. And I think you should bring a camera crew along when you do it and then put the whole thing up on pay-per-view and charge 50 bucks. I for one would gladly shell out that sum to see you claw that bitch's face to tatters.
Renee Zellweger has now gone up several notches in my esteem, and is officially exempt from being ripped on this blog for the next three months.
It's a tragedy when a 16-year-old who is not really prepared for all the responsibilities of adult life is going to be now faced with all the responsibilities of honest-to-goodness adult life.
Apparently, she's going to have the child and I think that is the right decision, a good decision, and I respect that and appreciate it. I hope it is not an encouragement to other 16-year-olds who think that is the best course of action.But at the same time I'm not going to condemn her. I just hope that she will make another right decision and that's to give that child all the love and kindness and care that she can.
Yeah, okay Huckabee. And if she was your 16-year-old daughter and you were running for office, what would you think then about her decision to have the baby? Would it even be up to her in that situation, or would you have her drugged and spirited away to the nearest back-door abortion clinic to save you the shame of having to explain the whole thing?
Here's a suggestion Schmuckabee - just don't say anything about it at all. We know, the whole pro-life thing is part of your right-wing holy-roller kick, but please - it's insulting when people like you try to co-opt everything you think can help you make your case. If somebody shoots up a mall, it's an opportunity to drag out the old "rock music is evil" routine. If some little harlot gets knocked up, it's an opportunity to remind your base how much you "value human life." Do us all a favor sir, and shove it in your used-to-be-gigantic ass.
Exclusive sources have informed me that Keira Knightley has a smelly twat. They say it's so bad you can barely stand being next to her. People want to tell her to go do something about it but they're afraid of getting chewed out by the pissy bitch. Last week, a small dog is reported to have died after inhaling Keira's overwhelming twat-reek. Authorities are considering having Keira's twat declared a biohazard.
From April...Beyonce unveils some crazy new dance moves. Either that or she's just being frozen in Carbonite.
Apparently Zahara can walk after all.
When I was being Ali G and Borat I was in character sometimes 14 hours a day and I came to love them, so admitting I am never going to play them again is quite a sad thing. It is like saying goodbye to a loved one. It is hard, and the problem with success, although it's fantastic, is that every new person who sees the Borat movie is one less person I 'get' with Borat again, so it's a kind of self-defeating form, really.
It's upsetting, but the success has been great and better than anything I could have dreamed of.
I wouldn't worry too much about running out of people to hoodwink with the Borat bit Sacha - I'm betting there are big pockets of America where not only has no one seen that movie, but they don't even know what the hell "movies" are.
I'm one of the people who adored Borat, but even I have to admit, that bit was really evil. Some of the stuff he did to those folks in that movie was demonic (handing the woman the napkin filled with his "poo" would have to be at the top). Plus, let's face it, the whole thing had more than a little elitist overtone to it. All right, let's be frank - it was way elitist. But, at least it was honestly elitist. I mean, what's worse - openly mocking the stupidity of "common people," or playing some cynical game where you romanticize them in order to hide the fact that you're really looking down your nose at them? Politicians pander to the masses all the time, but you know when they're in their backrooms smoking their cigars they all laugh about it and call us fools. All Cohen did by creating Borat was bring that shit out in the open. I'm not saying that makes him a good guy - frankly I think he's a bit of a turd - but at least he doesn't hide behind a bunch of pukey sentiment like Frank Capra and all those other old-fashioned leftist filmmakers who ranked pretending to care about people right up there with knowing a good wine and having taste in furniture.