Dead and I'm Proud

Sorry I've been gone forever, but I was away from London during the week of Christmas. It's a way fucking better holiday in England than in America: all you do is drink, eat, watch shitty TV, eat some more, beat up Welshmen, drink, drink, karaoke, wear crowns (seriously), throw up, and finally, drink. My Christmases growing up always included driving to visit relatives, so staying in a house that's upstairs from a pub for Christmas is really the way forward in my opinion.

Seeing as how I was watching Top of the Pops 2 and Only Fools and Horses for a week, I've missed pretty much any and every bit of news (real or Trash), so I don't have that much to snark about other than James Brown's funeral.

Purple suit. What a queen.

Oh, Britney

So you're taking your 16-year-old sister to sketchy tattoo parlors now, are you? Try as I might, I genuinely cannot get myself inside of your head to figure out why it is you do the things you do. There was a glorious two-day period when you really could have done it - you really could have come back and made us love you again. But you blew it. Please talk to Matt Lauer about this.

UK TV is Weird

Sadly, Jeremy Kyle clips on YouTube are few and far between. Trashy British people are somehow trashier than Americans; I blame it on the weather.

Greatest Thing Ever!

Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I were Victoria Beckham. Self-hatred/adoration, a desperate desire for fame, a pinch of talent and a fistful of crazy make up this woman's psyche, and I think it would be great to live like that for a day.

But then, oh, then I read about the possibility of her starring in a Scientology film produced by Tom Cruise. Who wouldn't want to spend six months of their life attempting to method-act their way through a role as a thetan alien bride?

I swear, if this ends up as Spice World meets Battlefield Earth, the world may be sucked in a black hole of camp. And I would be cool with that.

Be Honest

So does anyone care about Miss USA? Or about pageants in general? I don't get it. Maybe I should start wearing really shiny soap opera lipstick to understand these girls a little better. Or stop reading so many fucking blogs, because I'm 99% sure this is by no means actual news.

Little Things

So what does a Trashy American girl do while in London, one of the most diverse and important cities in the world?

Watch daytime television.

I just finished up my first episode of "Project Catwalk," which is "Project Runway" for the Brits. It's the little differences that make it worthwhile, really. Elizabeth Hurley hosts rather than Hedi Klum, they play music by Chemical Brothers when the clothes are presented, and there are gratuitous model nipple shots pretty much nonstop. There's too much voice over for my liking, but the designers seem okay for the most part.

I can never love this version as much as the one back home, of course. They have no Tim Gunn.

Coming Soon:
The man, the myth, the legend, my favorite talk show host ever, Mr Jeremy Kyle. You have no idea how good it is. He's got the self-righteousness of Oprah with Maury Povich-caliber guests, so it's pretty much the train wreck television viewers need and deserve.

Made of Trash Reccomends...

I got to open a few Christmas presents early this year, and my favorite one by far is this book written by the ladies who run Television Without Pity . It's full of awesome entries from Clay Aiken to Ian Ziering, and I heartily suggest you purchase it for the literate loser in your family.

Uglyfaced Muppet Royal Talks Shit

Do you read Popbitch? If not, you should. Anyway, today I had this item in my inbox:

Prince Charles is a huge fan of Borat. William and Harry set up a private screening of the movie for him and he loved it, saying he "couldn’t believe the Americans even understood why it was funny”.

Fuck, Chuck, you been spending time with Gwyneth Paltrow? Americans think there are a lot of funny things to come out of Britain. There's your wife, for instance. Her face is pretty hilarious. What else, what else...oh! The fact that your mother will never die and you won't be king until you're 70 is also really really funny. And that's not even mentioning the fact you won't have any actual power! There was also that whole ex-wife thing when everyone loved her instead of you...I could go on and on.

I'm leaving for London tomorrow, Chuck. How's about you and I do a comedy rumble? Trafalgar Square. Noon. Christmas Day. I will own you.

Joe "Rapist" Francis to do Community Service

I hate Joe Francis and I hate "Girls Gone Wild," but I also hate 17-year-old girls who lie about their age in order to appear in said videos. Everyone is a loser, everyone is tainted by association, and those bitches aren't even getting paid. What has the world come to?

I don't feel sorry for him in the least, but I also don't understand age of consent laws. I know they vary from state to state, but is a 17-year-old really a child? I don't think so. That doesn't mean what any of them did is right, but still...everyone is stupid but me. That's my final word.

Peed Your Pants Yet?

The nominees for the 64th annual Golden Globes were announced this morning! It's all the films, actors, and television shows you'd expect to be nominated, with the added benefit of Beyonce's nomination for Best Actress! Oh, Hollywood Foreign Press, what don't you know?

Breaking: Princess Diana Still Dead

The Princes William and Harry are throwing a great big concert in honour of their mum, which I suppose is nice, but I'm a tad bit confused over the lineup:

Pharrell Williams
Joss Stone
Elton John
Duran Duran
Bryan Ferry

Okay, the Elton John thing makes sense because of "Candle in the Wind," but Pharrell and Joss Stone? I think the boys just want to meet their favorite celebrities. And what about the last two, Duran Duran and Bryan Ferry? Is that what Diana used to listen to? Jesus, I hope so. Anyway, the tickets are all sold out, so you can't go unless you get the NSA to tap the Princes' phones and find out where the afterparty will be held.

Ten Greatest Teen Movies, Part Two

I've been thinking about this list for the past couple of days, and there are some additions and revisions I'd like to make. I feel like I should also give a brief explanation for my selections, if for no other reason than to prove I'm by no means tragically misguided.

Criteria: Must not necessarily star teenagers, but be about teenagers. Must be created for a teenage market (while Rushmore is wonderful, it is not a "teen movie" since everyone can enjoy it). Must not fall into any other film category (horror, "romance," etc).


10. Say Anything
Every girl will always love Lloyd Dobler until she dies, even if that means loving John Cusack by association. Possibly one of the most good-natured teen movies ever, it stands the test of time better than a lot of other '80s movies, even though Lloyd is really stoked about that kickboxing.

9. Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure/Bogus Journey
Two for the price of one. It's impossible not to like this shit, dated and strange as it is. There was a time when movies like this not only got made, they were also kind of popular. San Dimas High School football rules!

8. 10 Things I Hate About You
This movie came out around the time 15 other teen movies did, and is the only late '90s film to make the cut. Why? Well, having Shakespeare do most of the writing helps, but Heath Ledger and Julia Stiles are also terribly charming. This movie kicks She's All That square in the balls.

7. Ferris Bueller's Day Off
What kind of kid skips school and goes to an art museum? Ferris Bueller, that's the kind. I always wanted a day like this during my high school career, but it never happened. It may be one of my life's great regrets to never take over a parade.

6. Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead
I can only assume I started watching this movie when it would play on HBO every afternoon at some point in the mid-'90s. Understanding time and place are very important to loving this movie, because Southern California in 1991 was an ugly, ugly place. Keep in mind Christina Applegate was just hitting her poor exploited peak on "Married with Children" at this time, and you can tell she felt like she had something to prove her. And prove it she did. She was awesome.

5. Bring it On
I have watched Bring it On more than I care to admit. There have been times when I'm not sure what I like about this movie - you're supposed to hate cheerleaders in high school! And maybe that's the point...they're as ditzy and shallow as you expect them to be, but they're also really nice, funny, and have problems just like everyone else. Cheerleading problems.

4. Pretty in Pink
Best John Hughes film, bar none. I love pretty much everything about it, but I especially love James Spader. Though many believe Andie's biggest mistake was not choosing Duckie at the end, I think she's a fool for not having a one-night stand with Steff. I know I would have.

3. Back to the Future
I was on the fence about including it in this list, because I had been thinking of it as a science-fiction film. It was wrong of me to do so. Even though there is time travel involved, it all about high school and dances, first loves and nerves. It's the reason everyone, everywhere, will love Michael J. Fox forever. It's also one of the most perfect-all around films ever made, and does not rate higher mostly because of the "Wild West" sequel and the cartoon.

2. Mean Girls
Probably the best teen film to be released in the past five years. If you've been avoiding it out of hate for Lindsay Lohan, don't. This was a good year or two before she went crazy, and besides, it's more of a Tina Fey film than Lindsay Lohan. Rachel McAdams pretty much steals it, though, as Mean Girl Regina George. It's pretty fucking awesome.

1. Clueless
The first time I saw this movie was when I was in sixth grade. I thought it was really cool and really funny, and now that I'm all grown up I realise it's even moreso because it's based on a Jane Austen novel. Bring it On kind of borrowed the "just because she's vapid doesn't mean she's cruel" premise, but it's impossible to recreate the same kind of dumb wonder that Cher provides. It does not say RSVP on the Statue of Liberty, people. Bonus: Paul Rudd. I love you.

Honorable Mentions: Napoleon Dynamite, Hairspray, Heathers, Now and Then, The Outsiders, Quadrophenia, To Sir, With Love, Save the Last Dance, The Breakfast Club, Empire Records

TMZ Grandma's Up

They say:

A 17-year-old boy has already died in an SUV driven by a celebrity. Someone else is going to die, and it will happen sooner rather than later.

Nicole Richie's loved ones could easily have been planning her funeral today -- likewise the loved ones of the people driving the right way on the 134 Freeway early Monday morning.

Lane Garrison must be scratching his head today. Why, he must be asking, did he have such bad luck? The fact is, the differentiating factor that makes Garrison a killer and Richie a DUI'er is luck. That's it.

I'm not trying to preach, and I will readily admit that TMZ has prospered off the antics of a group of young celebrities. When Brandon Davis went on his "firecrotch" rant against Lindsay, it was endlessly entertaining. When Paris got in fender-benders, it was so TMZ. And when Britney spread her legs for all the world to see, well it was Internet gold.

But the line has been crossed. The dark side of Hollywood has been revealed in the last month. And really, it's no surprise. There are a lot of young celebs who got really rich and very famous way too soon. The people who surround them are not used to saying "no." These celebs have gotten away with a lot -- mostly small stuff -- for a long time. And each time you get away with something you shouldn't, you get bolder the next time.

These celebs, for the most part, have no compass to guide them. Look at Lindsay Lohan. Her dad used the revolving door at his local jail while her mom was at war with him when she wasn't out partying. Lohan really didn't stand a chance, and it's sad.

So who will save the day and save these kids from disaster? In this town, saviors are awfully hard to come by.

And I retort:

Okay, look, I don't think anyone would ever say drinking and driving is a good idea for anyone, anytime, anywhere, but to suddenly wring your carpal-tunneled hands over the sad, sad state of celebrity life is at best insincere. Look, TMZ, you've had three days to say something about Nicole Richie driving on the wrong side of the freeway, and yet instead you post her mugshot, the audio of the 911 calls made to report her, and direct people to an online betting site to wager which celebrity will have the next DUI. Plus, celebrities have been killing people for years. Didn't you ever watch "Behind the Music?"

I think you're forgetting that no one really likes most of the celebrities you mentioned. Britney and Lindsay had it once, but we're bored to death of them, and you, yes you, are partly to blame. If you don't want these horrible, bad influences to get any publicity, then by all means, write about someone else. What's James Spader doing today? I wonder if Heidi Klum has bought any new baby clothes? Spend some time force-outing Jodie Foster. Something. Anything. Seriously. Shut up.

Decent Mugshot

Nicole Richie was arrested for DUI, and her booking sheet says she weighs only 85 pounds. That's not funny.

Oh wait...yes it is. Ha ha. Stupid fat Nicole Richie.

Ten Greatest Teen Movies

10. Can't Hardly Wait
9. Cruel Intentions
8. Fast Times at Ridgemont High
7. 10 Things I Hate About You
6. Ferris Bueller's Day Off
5. Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead
4. Bring it On
3. Pretty in Pink
2. Mean Girls
1. Clueless

And yes, I'm saying Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead is better than Dirty Dancing because Dirty Dancing sucks tremendously.

Question...

Is Dylan Moran hot?

What the Hells?

I need a bit of TV in the background to put me to sleep, and last night I made the mistake of putting it on MTV. "Cribs," I show I love in theory, was on, and Carlos Mencia was showing me around his house. Rather than drift off to dreamland, I started to intently listen to what he was saying, and then I began to get very, very angry. He has motorcycles with dragons and hydrolics. He has an in-home theatre, and a gorgeous pool. The kitchens in huge houses are always nice, too. All of this, as far as I can tell, for being an unfunny motherfucker and saying "beaner" 20 times per episode.

Excerpts from "Notes on Camp"

I'm easing out of "school mode" and into "play mode." Reading this was a nice transition. I think I'll watch Glitter tonight.

10. Camp sees everything in quotation marks. It's not a lamp, but a "lamp"; not a woman, but a "woman." To perceive Camp in objects and persons is to understand Being-as-Playing-a-Role. It is the farthest extension, in sensibility, of the metaphor of life as theater.

11. Camp is the triumph of the epicene style. (The convertibility of "man" and "woman," "person" and "thing.") But all style, that is, artifice, is, ultimately, epicene. Life is not stylish. Neither is nature.

18. One must distinguish between naïve and deliberate Camp. Pure Camp is always naive. Camp which knows itself to be Camp ("camping") is usually less satisfying.

22. Considered a little less strictly, Camp is either completely naive or else wholly conscious (when one plays at being campy). An example of the latter: Wilde's epigrams themselves.
"It's absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious." - Lady Windemere's Fan

26. Camp is art that proposes itself seriously, but cannot be taken altogether seriously because it is "too much." Titus Andronicus and Strange Interlude are almost Camp, or could be played as Camp. The public manner and rhetoric of de Gaulle, often, are pure Camp.

34. Camp taste turns its back on the good-bad axis of ordinary aesthetic judgment. Camp doesn't reverse things. It doesn't argue that the good is bad, or the bad is good. What it does is to offer for art (and life) a different -- a supplementary -- set of standards.

38. Camp is the consistently aesthetic experience of the world. It incarnates a victory of "style" over "content," "aesthetics" over "morality," of irony over tragedy.

55. Camp taste is, above all, a mode of enjoyment, of appreciation - not judgment. Camp is generous. It wants to enjoy. It only seems like malice, cynicism. (Or, if it is cynicism, it's not a ruthless but a sweet cynicism.) Camp taste doesn't propose that it is in bad taste to be serious; it doesn't sneer at someone who succeeds in being seriously dramatic. What it does is to find the success in certain passionate failures.

58. The ultimate Camp statement: it's good because it's awful . . . Of course, one can't always say that. Only under certain conditions, those which I've tried to sketch in these notes.

Beyonce

There is nothing America loves more than to watch the mighty fall. There was a time in the not-too-distant past when Beyonce could do no wrong. "Crazy in Love" was probably her peak, and I will love that song until I die. However, in the years since, there have been all kids of rumors about her diva-like behavior, especially when it comes to the filming and promotion of Dreamgirls. Apparantly she's a big old bitch, and has made some snarky comments about costar and "American Idol" reject Jennifer Hudson. Are they true? I don't know and I really don't care.

However, her wig glue is coming loose in the above picture, and that's just funny.

Remember UPN?

Since no one watched it while it was on, I dare you to take the time to try and watch a few minutes of "Chaotic," Britney and K-Fed's reality show. If you can provide me with a synopsis via comments, you may win a prize.

Oh Dear God, No

Tim Gunn may not be on the next "Project Runway."

I wonder which one of my friends will find my cold, dead body on the first Thursday morning after next season's premire of "Project Runway?" If I don't have Tim Gunn in my life, I might have to hang myself with some of the extra tulle I've got lying around.

"The Sun" Has Lawyers. Heather Mills Doesn't.

This is perhaps the most delicious news item to flitter across my screen this month. It's better than Michael Richards being racist. It's better than Grammy nominations. It's better than Britney's vagina and Madonna's African baby combined!

Heather Mills has decided to represent herself during her divorce proceedings from (Sir) Paul McCartney. Being a "Law & Order" buff, I know the defendant will sometimes do this in criminal trials in order to be judged insane. However, I don't think this is what she has in mind. I have no idea what she has in mind, to tell the truth.

I'm telling you here and now, '07 is going to be the year of Heather Mills. Paris Hilton has nothing on this bitch.

etc.

I wrote a really short book review for Nashville Cream. If you're a fan of "reading" you should "buy" the "novel."

Chad Michael Murray

Thankfully, I know very little about this man. However, the little I do know (the brief marriage to a co-star, the pregnant 18-year-old fiancee) leads me to believe he is the smarmiest smarm that ever leched, and that's without even having to look at his stupid, stupid face. He looks like it's 1997.

TyTy Baby

I had promised months ago to do "Top Model" reviews and recaps, but I couldn't be bothered after the first couple. I'm sorry. The timeslot worked against it, and there's no way I could be even half as hilarious as fourfour, so I decided to pretty much not even bother.

I do, however, have every intention of watching the finale tonight. You should do the same. It's bound to be hilarous, since pretty much everything Tyra Banks touches is solid-gold kitsch.

Dumbest News of the Day, Maybe

L.A.'s Department of Children & Family Services is supposedly interested in looking into Britney's fitness as a mother yet again, due to all her strawberry cocaine-fueled flashes around town. True, she does have two very young children at home, but it's not like they're alone. You know those kids have a very excellent nanny who is doing everything in her power to make sure her nurturing overcomes the nature of the kids' parents. They're far better off with mommy out of the house.

A Whole New World

Lo, the Gods of Trash have surely smiled upon me, for what better way to end a day of British-inspired trash than to announce the pregnancy of everyone's favourite model/singer/actress/author/role-model Jordan? There is no better way, not if Margaret Thatcher herself had died.

Say You'll Be There

Eddie Murphy may or may not be the father of Mel B's (Spice Girls) fetus. It looks like he wants a paternity test, and unless those two take this shit to Maury Povich (or to his UK equivalent, Jeremy Kyle), I am. not. interested. As far as Eddie Murphy is concerned, I'm pretty sure no one has cared about him since 1987, and Mel B is one of the least-screwed-up former Spice Girls tripping around the globe. I hope the baby is his. And I hope it has a learning disability - that way they'll have to work together to raise awareness of Dumb Baby Syndrome and there will tons of awesome PSAs on both sides of the Atlantic.

Pete Doherty

Once again, he's not going to jail. When you think about it, Pete Doherty is kind of like the Keith Ricards of the aughts. He's an ugly, young, skinny junkie who dates models and will never suffer any consequences for his actions, unless you count "massive wealth" and "free drugs and girls" as consequences.

Today is Brit Day on Made of Trash

In honour of Mrs. Coldplay, I would like to present the trailer for the upcoming film Hot Fuzz. It's like the same people from Shaun of the Dead, only maybe funnier. Plus a little "Reno 911." You can't go wrong!

Oh, Gwennie

Look, I love England, too. I've been lucky enough to visit several times and have made lots of nice British friends. London is a beautiful city, and I'm looking forward to Christmas in the English countryside.

HOWEVER, not everything associated with England is perfect, and since you've lived there a fair few years now, perhaps it's time to take off your rose-coloured glasses and take an objective look at your adopted home.

Stupid things:

• They put butter on almost any kind of sandwich
• Hot and cold water are in separate taps, even in new or remodeled kitchens/bathrooms
• Blackcurrant flavoured everything
• Steep, narrow staircases (must be hard to pull a pram up!)
• The word "pram"
• Half metric/half Imperial system of weight and measurement. Pick one and stick with it!
• Most pubs close at 11 pm
• No Taco Bell
• Sliding Doors

While I'm sure it's absolutely brilliant to be very rich and live anywhere in the world you choose, most of us poor Americans have to make do with what we have. However, until I'm destined to a life of falling down narrow stairs at 11:05 on a Friday night into a puddle of blackcurrant vomit, I think I'll be a little more appreciative of the little things here. In America.

Also: the Portugese don't speak Spanish. They speak Portugese.

Rerun Blogging the VH1 Big in '06 Awards!

You've heard of live blogging? Well, I'm rerun blogging, which means I took notes when I watched the pre-taped event earlier in the evening, and am putting those scribbled thoughts into text on the interweb. I've just now invented the concept. Brilliant.

First and foremost, I can go ahead and tell you the exact moment pop culture imploded upon itself: and it happened on VH1. The popular and awesome "I Love the..." series did an episode on 1994 and discussed the horrible, horrible film Reality Bites. Now, that particular movie serves no other purpose than to remind Generation X of the cartoons and songs they loved in their adolescence, and to pop culturally reminisce about pop cultural reminiscence is such a useless, self-congratulatory exercise I can't help but love it and devote many hours of my day to further capturing the phenomenon. Thus comes "Big in '06."

It was basically a two-hour episode of "Best Week Ever," only there was an audience present. The biggest names in attendance were Justin Timberlake (who was slumming) and Ice-T (who is my 3rd favorite "SVU" detective), though I'm sure they were blinded by the shining superstars of tomorrow like Lonelygirl15 and Perez Hilton.

Yes, the internet, appropriately enough, played a vital role in the night's festivities. There was a whole category for "Web Hit of the Year" that Lonelygirl15 eventually won, in spite of the fact she's no longer topical, and the nonsensical competition from OK Go and "London Bridge" by Fergie. What the fuck Fergie's single has to do with the web, I don't know.

As far as out-and-out ridiculousness was concerned, there were three moments that could take the cake. If Mario Lopez and Joey Lawrence present an award to David Hasselhoff for "Best Comeback," does the baby Jesus cry? Or does an angel get his wings when Perez Hilton gives Paris Hilton her shiny trophy for "Outlaw" of the year? She has been wearing panties lately, I guess. I suppose the most ridiculous moment came courtesy of Dennis DeYoung (yes, Styx) singing "Lady" to a parade of reality television females of the past year, capped of by a sashay from Miss J of "America's Next Top Model." Yes, Miss J is a man.

Of course, it's easy to overanalyze trash culture; to elevate it beyond it's purpose as if it fills some greater social need than entertainment. I was feeling guilty of this until Stephen Colbert won the award for "Big Breakthrough." Naturally not present, he dismissively accepted his trophy in character while polishing his real awards. It's obvious he was joking. It's obvious he really didn't care.

Of course, I'm just joking, and I really don't care, yet I still take the time to write notes and organize my thoughts into hopefully some amusing rant about the state of pop culture. I'd love to be a guest talking head on "Best Week Ever" or, dream of dreams, host "The Soup." I think that would be the moment I would implode upon myself from the forces of uselessness and purpose.

Don't Worry!

I've got lots of Monday-type things to do today, so there will not be numerous updates about the possible breakup of Lance Bass and whoever. However, I've got a big post about VH1's "Big in '06" debacle that will go up later this evening. Rerun blogging, if you will.

Consider yourselves blessed.

The Problem With Game Shows

I love game shows. "The Price is Right." "Jeopardy." Reruns of "Match Game" and "Family Feud." I spent my two weeks of chicken-poxed bed rest watching "Let's Make a Deal." My mom and dad would turn off the volume so they could play the final round of "$10,000/25,000 Pyramid" on their own. Hell, I once tried out for "Wheel of Fortune" when it came to Nashville and was even called on stage(!), but I didn't make it beyond that point. They've provided literally hundreds of hours of entertainment in my life, and maybe that's why I'm a bit disappointed in them right now.

The newest trifecta of game shows - "Deal or No Deal," "1 vs 100," and (sigh) "Show Me the Money" are the most disgusting displays of style over substance that I've ever seen. Don't get me wrong - it's not that I'm forever looking backward, refusing to acknowledge the Future of game shows. You should watch "Cash Cab" on the Discovery Channel if you haven't, and everyone watches "Lingo." But there's something about this new crop that rubs me the wrong way.

I think it's the contestants. It's the same kind of preplanned meddling that's been going on in dating shows for years spread out to skill- or luck-based programs, and this is a mistake. You can't tell me you haven't noticed that everyone who plays "Deal or No Deal" just happens to be wearing a solid top and trousers, and they just happen to know the names of the models, and they just happen to be the most annoying fuckers this side of Waffle House at 2 am.

And Jesus, they take annoying to a whole new level. Is it necessary to screech to the audience and do a little dance every time you answer a question about American currency correctly? Are you sure you want to make grand, sweeping statements about your certainty in a game of chance? The excitement in a game like "The Price is Right" is clearly spontaneous. You just look like a douchebag.

The sets and setups and hosts are no better, of course. I understand you have a prime-time hour to fill, but can you please fill it a little more gracefully? I don't need to see William bloody Shatner having fits all over the stage any time a commerical break occurs. I don't understand why massive platforms have been built and models brought in. If the same shows are popular in Europe without all the sexing-up (and they are), then why add all that shit for American audiences? I know we've got short attention spans, but I can barely handle the fake breasts and botox in my procedural dramas.

It matters not, I suppose. These too will pass, like the "Weakest Link"s and "Millionaire"s that came before them. It's likely I spend way too much time thinking about this shit, but you know what? It matters to me. It really does. Go away, Howie Mandel. Go away, Bob Saget. And William Shatner: cut out the fucking dancing.

Jesus Christ

I think I officially hate all celebrities. Here's the "news" that's making the rounds today:

1. Boringfaced Eva Longoria is engaged to uglyfaced Tony Parker

2. The Yellow "Wiggle" leaves the group because he has some freaky-ass disease

3. 50 Cent called Oprah an Oreo

4. Nicole Kidman has an ugly face and more money than you

5. Dead Steve Irwin's kid had a birthday party

Honestly guys, when Crispin Hellion Glover is the most exciting part of a news day, you know the ball has been dropped somewhere.

In Super-Limited Release...

Crispin Glover's What Is It?

There's a brief glimpse of breasts and ass, so if you're at work, be cautious. Also: People with Down Syndrome in blackface. Just so you know. However, it's far less scary than that fucking PS3 commerical. I hate that thing.

Retarded Press Release

Someone, somewhere, has started a rumor that Sandra Bullock is pregnant. Here's what she and husband "Jesse James" had to say about that:

"We are not with child, but we are pregnant with ideas."

I hope you've enjoyed my first and last installment of Sandra Bullock news. I think I'll watch Demolition Man.