Cheese Curds, Indentured Servants, Possibly Just 75 Cents in Wisconsin If You're Feeling Lucky

ANTIGO, Wisconsin-- Three-year-old Robert Moore, while under the watchful eye of his grandmother, got stuck in a vending machine at the local mall last Saturday, attempting to win a SpongeBob Squarepants stuffed toy. According to his "Oma", the child was delighted:

"He was having a ball in there, hugging all the stuffed animals," [grandmother] Fredricka Bierdemann said. "He was so good-natured, but I was shaking like a leaf."

...at least that's what the Master of Spin, Freddi-B [as she's known on the black market], is trying to sell, because the photo tells an entirely different story-- the true story-- of human trafficking:

It is my sincere belief, based on the above scientific photographical evidence, that little Robert escaped to said vending machine to protest, metaphorically speaking, his slave-driving "Oma's" cheap sales of children into lives of indentured servitude. Just one look into this brave child's eyes bears his haunting plea of "let my people go". Unfortunately for him and his misbegotten band of vagrant siblings, his petit coup d'etat was tragically ended by Fredricka's co-conspirators and fellow child-haters at the Antigo Fire Department. As punishment for his inspired act of civil disobedience, one can surely expect that poor sweet Robert has already been bartered to a small island-nation, exchanged for a burlap sack filled with coconuts, various odd tropical birds, and a shrunken head.

Let us all bow our heads and observe a moment of silence for visionary activist, Roger Moore -- if that was even his name -- for he will be missed, dearly.



Good day and Godspeed, my fellow freedom fighters.



***
Link to the AP article by clicking on the photo!

Paris Hilton, Desecrator of Teddy Bears

An epic love for the ages:

Oh wait. Remember when these two were dating? I know-- I cried when their publicists issued the news of their break-up, too. And then immediately forgot all about them... until now!

Nick Carter -- currently of E's smash-hit new series House of Carters [I kid, I kid, it's really a piece of shit]

-- recently made another grab for his sixteenth minute of fame by speaking candidly on record about Paris. Carter says:

"She relied heavily on drugs and drink to give her confidence in the bedroom and was more often than not too wasted to even perform. I lost count of the nights I had to pick her off the floor and drag her to bed passed out. If she was going overseas she'd cut a hole in her teddy and stuff it with cannabis. She had to have her own private stash with her at all times regardless of the consequences."

I'm not sure what surprises me more: that Nick Carter is smart enough to have a vocabulary including the word "cannabis" [highly suspect], or that Paris Hilton is smart enough to A) wield a sharp object without maiming herself in the process, and B) use said object to cut open a stuffed animal without maiming herself in the process [maybe she has the help do it?]. Plus, I don't see why Carter had any complaints at all-- what did he care if she was passed out, he could've done whatever position he wanted then and wouldn't have to waste any time telling her how pretty she was. If nothing else though, Carter's statement flies in the face of one Elliot Mintz who, earlier this month, tried to explain away a mystery bag of "potpourri" in his beloved cash cow/client's purse as nothing more than tobacco. Or as I like to call it, wacky tabacky.

"I just want to get something clear with you. Paris Hilton rolled her own tobacco cigarette. It was tobacco that you saw."

[Elliot Mintz should really consider a career in acting; it's miraculous that he can keep a straight face while attempting to spin the media such a ridiculous story. Seriously, Maryl Streep would be proud.]

Again, I'm not sure what surprises me more: the suggestion that A) Paris is smart enough to roll her own cigarette, or B) Paris is smart enough to use a lighter and/or matches without setting herself on fire [I'm just saying]. Plus, personally, I don't have such a hard time accepting allegations that Paris enjoys an altered state of being, because it certainly explains away this whole atrocity:

Although it does not, by any means, justify the wholesale slaughter of countless Teddy Ruxpins in the pursuit of international drug trafficking. Say it with me people; Paris Hilton must be stopped!


Good day and Godspeed, fellow junkies.

Homosaywhat?!

The hellfire and brimstone that have been swirling around the explosive altercation on the set of Grey's Anatomy -- as first reported by famed bastion of media integrity the National Enquirer and independently confirmed by Pulitzer winning journalists Rush & Molloy -- came to a head yesterday when T.R. Knight confirmed to People.com that he does, indeed, enjoy both the giving and receiving of felatio. At the same time.

In case you're not familiar with the events, I'll break them down for you. It all started with this exchange of words:

"What are we waiting on?" said Isaiah.

"Not me," said Patrick. "I'm always ready."

"At that point," said the source, "Isaiah said something mean to T.R. Knight" (who plays mild-mannered Dr. George O'Malley).

"That's when Patrick told Isaiah, 'Pick on somebody your own size.'"

[Yay, McDreamy! What a stud!]

But then, basically, Burke decided it was time to choke a bitch, grabbed McDreamy by the throat, and shoved him into a wall. Controversy ensued, publicists made statements, everything was made right in the world... Or was it!?

[Boo! Bad Burke!]

The Enquirer -- fearing that everything had appropriately died down -- sent out an inflamatory email blast this week clearing up the nature of what was said to/about T.R.:

"A heated discussion quickly escalated to violence when Isaiah snapped, revealed an eyewitness. At one point, Isaiah yelled, "I'm not your little faggot like (name deleted)," according to the source. Those who heard him were stunned.

Because of the extreme nature of the slur, The ENQUIRER is withholding the name of the co-star targeted by Washington."

Ummmm... yeah. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think it takes a rocket scientist to figure out that the two Enquirer pieces are reflexive? Nice literary work, geniuses.

Of course, not to be out done, T.R. Knight sashayed over to People.com to issue a [typically] dramatic [read: gay] statement addressing the now mounting rumors about his sexuality:

"I guess there have been a few questions about my sexuality, and I'd like to quiet any unnecessary rumors that may be out there. While I prefer to keep my personal life private, I hope the fact I'm gay isn't the most interesting part of me."

While I certainly applaud T.R.'s forthwright honesty and sympathize his feelings about his orientation, I have to wonder if he isn't grateful on some level for the catty outing he received on behalf of the Enquirer? It was probably getting difficult to capitalize on his fame when most gay men neither knew now cared that intern George wasn't actually into Meredith at all, and that the reason she was so thoroughly shaken by their sexual encounter is because he so insistantly pestered her for a five-fingered rectal exam which she agreed to, albeit reluctantly, until a tub of Cricso was produced, thereby reducing her to sobbing hysterics. At least now some sort of moderately attractive fame-seeking whoremonger will agree to pity-fuck him on a regular basis in exchange for some brief tabloid exposure. Well played T.R. -- when the Enquirer gives you a national outing, you parlay it into sex -- this round goes to you!

Good day and Godspeed, fellow patients of Seattle Grace.

***
PS- Sorry for the lack of block-quoting during this outing [so to speak]; they were surprisingly not cooperating.

A Public Service Announcement: Diddy Didn't

Hey all, I just wanted to do everyone the kind service of warning people away from Diddy's new album Push Play. Why, you may be asking? Because it blows-- not in the good way, but in the way with teeth, or braces, or both.

You may also be asking what possessed me to purchase it at all? Well, I thought it would be good times because it boasts production by Timbaland, Kanye, Scott Storch, and Will.i.am; plus the guests include Christina, Ciara, Big Boi, Twista, Nas, Cee-lo, Brandy, and Mary J.-- among others. I was so disappointed to be proven so wrong though, because this album lacks catchy hooks, good beats, and, more than anything, good rapping. Perhaps the Cristal impaired everyone's judgement-- I don't know, and it's not for me to say. It has now become my civic duty, though, to tell the world that Diddy's latest disc is simply a bloated work of ego that should be avoided at all costs-- it would have been more aptly titled This Album is a Big Piece of Shit.

Good day and Godspeed, brave soldiers of hip hop.

Uli and Laura Were Robbed!!

Never in the worst of all possible nightmare scenarios would I have fathomed that the wretched Jeffrey Sebelia would be chosen as the winner of Project Runway.

[We should have been so lucky as to have Jeffrey actually shut his fucking mouth for a hot minute-- this photo is just cruel and unusual punishment.]

Seriously though, what a douche-y ballsack. I just can't stand the fact that he won! However, that being said, I will admit that I was unfairly critical in my criticism of his collection and how heavily he borrowed from Betsey Johnson's new line. Unfair to Anna Sui, that is; Jeffrey is apparently an equal-opportunity plagarist, seeing as how he pillaged both the spirit of Betsey and Anna. I was foolish to have missed it before. Behold, Jeffrey's swimsuit:

And now have a look at one by Betsey:

Are they exact replicas? No they are not-- but my point is that the attitude is very much the same -- retro-rocker chic -- which is why I just don't see Jeffrey as the next great visionary of American fashion. I've seen what he does done before and done better, and I'll see it done again. Uli and Laura may have been "too much of what they do best", but at least what they do best is make wearable clothing with distinct perspectives that for me, personally, have much more interesting points of view. I love the glamour and escapism that Laura offers, and I love her assertion that we all could take more time to be fabulous. I love that Uli is all about life and fun, and that her work really embodies those ideas. Basically, Jeffrey may be "more innovative" and might make some people want some of his clothes, but where Laura and Uli surpass him is in making you crave the lifestyle that goes with their clothes. Which is why, even though they didn't win, they're still the champs to me.

Good day and Godspeed, my fellow brethren of the Runway.



***
Photos cribbed, as always, from nymag.com-- although one is from Bravo.com today, too!

WEDNESDAY NIGHT RAW: PROJECT RUNWAY SMACKDOWN

Far and away the most polarizing batch of Project Runway yet, season three has delivered all the goods with multiple crazies [Bradley! Vincent! Angela!], a first-ever shocking dismissal from the show [Keith!], and more than enough homos to cast an all-gay remake of Dallas called Chelsea -- or Phallus as the cast and crew will take to calling it on set -- starring Tim Gunn as the beloved patriach of a dysfunctional family of charmeuse tycoons living in Manhattan [Hello Kayne, Keith, Robert, Malan, Laura, and probably Michael Knight!]. What, with Jeffrey making Angela's mother cry, Alison's undeserved premature auf-ing, and Vincent's perpetual state of arousal, there was nary a dull moment. Though their collections have been online courtesy New York Magazine for over a month, I had previously refrained from posting anything about them out of respect for those who enjoy the elements of suspense and surprise the show employs. However, since the grand finale is tonight, I've decided it's now okay to do a posting about the Final Four and how well they fared at Fashion Week in Bryant Park. Let's begin...

Michael Knight, America's Sweetheart

Taking this year's "SERIOUSLY-- what the fug were you even THINKING" award, Michael fell in the vein of Daniel V. from last season; brilliant and promising while under the pressure and restrictions of the challenges, but unfocused and too-ambitious in the execution of his collection. Here's his final look:

Arguably, it's his strongest piece as well. The whole collection is very Baby Phat cumGucci by way of Bebe as reimagined by the design team over at Forever 21-- though this print is sort of garish in the way you typically expect from Versace. I really do like Michael, and am glad that he at least won the title of "fan favorite" during the reunion episode. Because he's got about a snowball's chance in hell of winning this season. A poorly-designed, ill-fitting snowball's chance in hell, that is.


Ulrike Herzner, Living the American Dream

I just adore Uli and her quaint foreigner's ever-so-slightly-skewed grasp of the English language. I also love that Heidi gets all a-twitter around her and begins jabbering away in German whenever she sees her. Plus Uli's pretty, but in a delightfully quirky sort of way! Her collection, in turn, suited her well; very fresh, very now, and all the while true to her aesthetic. The final look is one of her signature flowy printed-dresses, and though it isn't her most inspired work it's lovely all the same:

The other thing I like so much about Uli is that she made no qualms about bitch-jacking Michael's model Nazri right out from under him at the first available opportunity, and then later confessed to the camera, "It's a competition. You have to do whatever you need to do to make your presentation the best on the runway." Her attitude, experience, and playful sense of style make her varied-yet-cohesive collection a strong contender for the win.


Jeffrey Sebelia, The Mouthiest Neck Ever

Jeffrey, for me, is one of the most interesting contestants ever to grace the fair Runway. It's fascinating that the producers seem to be torn-- alternately wanting him to be this season's major antagonistic asshole, yet painstakingly attempting to humanize him at every available opportunity should he in fact win the competition and they need to paint him as the scrappy underdog. Now add the recently revealed accusations of foul play, top them off with that God-awful neck tattoo, and you have got yourself one hott mess. Which is why I understand the concerns being raised about the peculiarity of his incredibly polished collection; he's been all deconstruction and layers thus far on the show, and then shows up at fashion week all clean and pared down. Note the final look:

It's just so very Betsey Johnson Spring 2007-- that's my major problem. Seriously, follow the link and you'll see the similarities beteween the collections. Plus, I think this dress does the highly difficult job of making an emaciated girl look fat-- and while the skinny model may be grateful for her healthy new look, the fact that I cringe at the thought of this dress on women sizes 4 and up is probably not ideal. So well he may be a great reality personality, I honestly don't find Jeffrey very original or engaging as a designer, so it'll be a shame if the judges somehow stumble into a black hole and he wins.


Laura Bennett, Producer of Children and Fine Garments

Love her. Love everything about her. She's just pure sophistication and glamour. All class all the way. Her collection, too, is a great reflection of her talent. Behold her final look:

Her whole collection has splashes of the tasteful stylings of de la Renta's gowns, a dramatic flair of vintage Yves St. Laurent, and even a touch of Runway Divo-Judge Michael Kors' Spring '07 line. I imagine they'll probably tell her it was too-grown up, or too-much evening wear, or both, but I really find her collection the most tasteful and strong.

We'll find out this evening what we've all been hotly anticipating for months now; who will be America's next great fashion designer. I'm just so excited I could pee!

See you tomorrow, when we'll discuss the hopefully-joyous results!

Good day and Godspeed, friend!

***

All photos cribbed from the indelible nymag.com! There's also a link embedded in the first picture to a great Project Runway article!

Deep Thoughts on Friday

No, no it's not-- that's why the word "lazy" is so often bandied about when one is calling someone a whore. Because whores are lazy. It's in their nature. Think about it. Or ask your mom.

Good day and Godspeed, ya wee bastard.

Super Hero News Part Deux: Working the Casting Couch

Though an official statement has yet to be released, I recently learned that I'm the last person in the universe to hear that this:

Is the new face, body, and franchise hope for this:

[You see how I did that there? The joke is the juxtaposition of the images. Genius!]

In all honesty, this news was a bit jarring to me because I was just like "what the fuck JOSS WHEDON if she's on the friggin' O.C. she CANNOT be THAT Wonderful even if she did guest star in an episode of Buffy!?!" So of course I started researching her online in an effort to destroy her and, much to my great surprise and, then, pleasure, learned that she is considered by many to be a kind, solid young lady with a good head on her shoulders. Plus she's pretty! Behold:

This is a girl I would totally be friends with-- especially if she always treated me to iced caramel lattes at the Coffee Bean [and Tea Leaf] and later took me shopping at Barney's Coop.

Also, can I just say how much I LOVE Wonder Woman? That's why I'm shamlessly adding the fabulous cover images of her; the first is by the great and powerful AH!, the latter by husband and wife team Rachel and Terry Dodson. By the way, if you have any interest in comics at all, the image below is the cover art from the first issue of the Wonder Woman relaunch that is only two issues into its new run. It's being written by Allan Heinberg, who is an awesome, out gay man that has both written and produced for Party of Five, Gilmore Girls, The O.C., and Sex and the City. Go buy it!

In conclusion, if Rachel Bilson is currently a lead on The O.C. and she's just landed the starring role in a major motion picture, what does this mean for her tv show? Industry logic would suggest that The O.C. is finally getting flushed down the crapper. Where it belongs. Good news all around!

Good day and Godspeed, friend.

The Week in Super Hero News: Parlaying Conviction to Casting

It was announced last weekend that Robert Downey Jr. [Heart & Souls, Gothika] will be playing Tony Stark in the new Iron Man movie being directed by Jon Favreau [Elf, Zathura] which is scheduled for release in 2008.

Here's your brief lesson in ferrous metals: basically Iron Man is to Marvel what Batman is to DC; genius inventor, shrewd businessman, billionaire playboy. The only major difference being that no one knows who the f*** Iron Man even is. See-- I told you it'd be brief!

[This is a great picture done by one of the best artists working in comics today, Ari Granov. Unfortunately he's also famously slow, so his brilliant stint on the recently relaunched Iron Man monthly comic was all too short.]

In any event, I was a bit worried about this casting call until I came across this:

Suddenly it all makes sense! It's like RoDo knew years ago that this was the role of his lifetime and accordingly began his brave Method preparations, which would allow him to delve deep into the twisted psyche of an alcoholic [for the good of the character!] genius [he needed the cocaine to imagine that part!], ultimately winning him an Oscar-- or a nomination at the very least. Oh, the indignity! If only the public had sooner learned the truth!

Okay -- sue me -- this post was a cheap shot and I took it. You try doing a Google image search for Robert Downey Jr. and then refrain from waxing poetic on his mugshot, okay?!

Good day, and get off my back!

Weekend Box Office Report: Kutcher Vs. Kutcher, The Bloodbath

It is deeply depressing on Monday morning to -- even after I've dipped my head in a trough of caffeinated sugar -- get online and discover that the top two movies at the box office were apparently unstoppable Ashton Kutcher vehicles driven with reckless abandon into megaplexes, shopping malls, and megaplexes at shopping malls by animated woodland Coast Guard rescue swimmers.

Let us all bow our heads and obsereve a moment of silence for this gruesome tragedy.


#1
Open Season, $23 Million

Who would've guessed that a major motion picture studio would finally come up with the whimsical comedy romp pitting Nature versus Man during hunting season that actually makes us wish for the superiority of Man to reign supreme as the cuddly CGI creatures are picked off with grim efficiency by a highly trained marksman in the film's denouement?


#2
Dances With Waves
--OR--
Waterworld: The Final Frontier
[Either way it still made $17.7 Million]

Who would've guessed that a major motion picture studio would finally come up with the sweeping epic adventure pitting Man versus Nature during Coast Guard rescue swimmer training that actually makes us wish for the superiority of Nature to reign supreme as the waning stars are brutally savaged by a rogue tsunami in a tragic drowning sequence in the film's denouement?


#3
Jackass Number Two, $14 Million

Next up, Jackass Numbers Three - Seven. Paramount is going to ride this newly realized franchise like a cheap whore, squeezing every last cent out of their initial investment.


#4
School for Scoundrels, $9.1 Million

I'm not sure if this is a still from the film, or a candid of Billy Bob Thornton and John Heder at the premiere party they threw for themselves. In a museum of natural history. Which no one attended. Except for the caterers. And two of them called in sick.


BIG STINKING DUD of the WEEKEND:

#8
Flyboys, $2.3 Million

This picture is symbolic of the movie's performance, which suffered a staggering 61% plummet in receipts its second week in release. Right now James Franco should be actively fucking his way through every executive office over at Sony, praying for the opportunity to engage in some post-coital pillow talk wherein he happens to let slip how he just might be convinced to sign on to Spiderman 4-- because it's pretty much the only way he's ever going to salvage the trainwreck his career has become and start getting work again.


WINNER of the WEEKEND:
[A Tie!]

#15
The Science of Sleep, $1.2 Million

Still in limited release, Michel Gondry's latest film grew 247.8% in profits its second week in release. The screenplay is superb, different, and very beautifully realized by the actors, cinematographer, and director. Well played, Frenchie, this round to you!


Not Ranked
The Queen, $123k

Opening Saturday in NY, Helen Mirren packed asses into seats and broke 100k, playing on only three screens for just two days. I know- consider the location- but even still this movie is going to rock hard and dirty. Granted it would be so much cooler if Kiki Dunst were playing the titular queen in this film, offering us a true masterclass in acting, because Helen Mirren ain't got shit on Kiki.

Good day and Godspeed, soldier. Stay brave.