knifefight in BK

you you you oughta know (algebra)

 

basically, i've been convinced for many years that dave grohl and alanis morissette are, in fact, the same person. i know! why didn't YOU think of that? don't feel bad, i've been thinking about this since the 90s. let's break it down all math-like: dave grohl minus any shred of nirvana-based coolness multiplied by an alex forrest level of... let's call it intensity equals alanis morissette (with a beard)(i know, i couldn't really figure out what to do about the beard there)(but come on). look at these pictures and try to tell me they AREN'T the same person. know what? you can't. i'm not going to go into detail about how i find the creature we'll call grohlanis grating for a variety of reasons (99 of them relating to me not liking whiny, irritating music), because i think the grohl half sounds like a perfectly awesome dude in general, and while the alanis part is on my shit list for inserting a completely backwards definition of IRONY into the already-muddled heads of her fans, hey, man, i just can't hate on a canadian. whatever. they're basically the same person. CONSIDER IT PROVEN. the end.

 

pete wentz for dummies

Takin' it back to 2005, y'all: It's the return of celebrity math. I've always felt like there was something familiar about Pete "Unfortunate Baby Names" Wentz, and I know now that this is because he is "Facts of Life"-era Nancy "Jo" McKeon, plus angst to the power of eyeliner. DUH. The funny thing is, angst to the power of eyeliner is actually the equation for emo itself. So basically, Pete "Girl pants" Wentz is actually just a whiny Jo Polniaczek in more carefully-applied makeup and more feminine pants. Who knew?

shamwow, slapchop, graty, coming soon: punch-a-ho

Oh, man! There's just a wealth of awful SlapChop jokes to be made right now. Let's just quietly make all those jokes in our heads before we discuss how the mighty have fallen. Vince "ShamWow" Offer/Shlomi, what happened? One day you're just some creepy guy hawking a magic rag, the next day you're a star who just wants to stop the world from having a boring tuna/life, and... then all that success and slapping goes to your head, and you punch your expensive hooker because she's intentionally biting you.*** I can understand occasionally confusing a hooker with "The Graty," but does cheese come out when you bang it? No no, but for real, if you look at the mugshots over at The Smoking Gun, poor Vinnie looks far more busted than the hooker. She's smiling! And he looks like he got a Graty to the face! Graty graty graty graty! Poor guy. He just wanted us to love his nuts.

***Yes, my conspiracy theory involves this hooker working for Billy Mays. Like the Highlander, there can be only ONE (obnoxious, omnipresent infomercial pitchman). I was pulling for you, Vince, you crazy bastard. Billy Mays and his Dyed Beard of Fury/Team of Rabid Prostitutes were just too strong...

i know what you did last weekend

...And it didn't involve rushing off to glamorous Staten Island to meet Steve "Bobby Bacala" Schirripa at the star-studded grand opening of THE CABINET FACTORY. How the mighty have fallen. Part of me thinks I'd have been into making that trip, had I not gotten my exclusive invitation to this gala affair about 4 days too late, stuck to the mirror in the locker room at my gym (not stuck to Mog, as pictur - that happened later). Let's just talk about this for a minute: what? The Cabinet Factory? REALLY? There's nothing less depressing for you to be appearing at, sir? Maybe a Jamba Juice, or a Model Trains 'R' Us, or a Sbarro (because Italian people AND fat people like pizza)? Can't you ask my old boss for a couple bucks? Regardless, I wish Mr. Schirripa the best in his new... ventures. And I can't wait to see him the next time they open a nail salon or re-open an Ace Hardware or something. Jesus... Come on, HBO, spin-off? Prequel? Six Million Dollar Man type-thing? Bobby's not really dead, he... faked it... to go into witness protection... and open a cabinet store in Staten Island! Practically writes itself, people! Get on it!

FACT: cnn is ridiculous

My favorite part of the Inauguration coverage (aside from when a sleep-deprived Diane Sawyer completely went off her nut on live TV) was CNN's urgent posting of crucial facts every 30 seconds. Like my favorite, pictured at left: "FACT The Obamas and Bidens are having coffee with the Bushes at the White House." ZOMG NO WAI. Don't believe the nasty rumors that they're having tea or playing Scrabble, America. The facts are in, and the facts are COFFEE WITH BUSHES IN WHITE HOUSE. Don't believe for a minute that the Bidens are secretly having scones with the Cheneys (haha Cheney in a wheelchair)! Don't believe that the Bushes are hosting the Obamas at Applebee's! FACT: CNN is ridiculous and I only watch it because Fox News is openly retarded. FACT: Wolf Blitzer delivers every line like it's AN URGENT FACT THAT'S SO URGENT AND FACT-LY THAT HE CAN'T STOP TALKING IN A LOUD MONOTONE. FACT: George Bush's retirement will be indistinguishable from his presidency, save for the "permission to create widespread malevolence and destruction" part. FACT: Wolf Blitzer is a cyborg. FACT: President Obama will be riding a unicorn to and from the White House every day. FACT: Beets taste bad. FACT: I have to go now because my stories are on. FACT: Have a lovely weekend, all 3 of you who read this.

i hate the fox football robot.

When I think of 36 year old libras named "Cleatus" (info courtesy of the tardbot's myspace profile, naturally) who are on my personal shit list, one specific obnoxious robot leaps immediately to the top of the page: that goddamn Fox football robot (P.S. "Cleatus?" Really?). If he's not wearing a "hilarious" seasonally appropriate costume ("it's Thanksgiving and Cleatus is a Pilgrim! And he's throwing a turkey instead of a football! What a magical age we live in!"), he's doing some kind of embarrassing touchdown dance, or just hopping around for no obvious reason, his firm robot quads quivering ever so slightly. THIS, FRIENDS, IS THE JARJAR BINKS OF FOOTBALL. Some people think John Madden (with his rambling non sequiturs) is the JarJar Binks of football, but they are wrong, because John Madden used to have a purpose, I assume, at some point in history. Dead wrong. Did I mention that the robot runs in place? Like he's warming up? For annoying sports viewers across the country? Why is it there? It's not doing anything of value, unless being an unfunny annoyance and an eyesore is valuable, in which case the Republicans should've really backed Carrot Top/Palin '08 after all. I hope that dancing WB frog comes back from the grave as some kind of super-zombie and eats this robot's face and entrails. No, but he wouldn't, because at least THAT anthropomorphic network mascot was the mascot of a WHOLE network, not just one specific seasonal sports event. I don't think that frog would bother resurrecting itself as some kind of super-zombie for something as lame as an anthropomorphic SHOW mascot. And you know what? Fox sports is wasting this technology on making some retarded dancin' robot, when they could be investing in something awesome like making their sideline reporter a giant CG hamster named "Dilly." What would be more precious than Peyton Manning looking skyward to the serene face of a giant CG hamster, gazing deeply into his deep rodent eyeballs and saying something pointless about how he "got the ball, and gave the ball to people, and they ran the ball, and they did a good job." WHAT IS MORE PRECIOUS THAN THAT? Other options include "Foxy, the Foxin' Fox Fox." Or whatever Clinton Portis feels like doing, because that guy is a goddamn genius.

i want kirsten dunst to play me in the movie, then.

You're looking at a picture I found of Generation Kill's obscenely attractive/inexplicably Swedish Alexander Skarsgard, and the man he so expertly portrayed, real live Sgt. Brad "Iceman" Colbert. I think the "Iceman" here is a perfectly handsome gentleman, right? He looks like he'd welcome you from the cover of a bank brochure about home loans or something. And Mr. Skarsgard... is literally Adonis. Yes, he kind of looks like a confused toddler. But also Adonis. I would offer this man one of my kidneys for some reason, and you know what? I don't even look at blonde men (hi honey!). I thought they all went extinct in the early 80's from sun damage and hairspray toxicity or something. And yet Mr. Skarsgard here makes me feel giddy about shopping at Ikea and Volvo ownership. What was my point? I don't have one. I never have one. Have a nice day.

shamwhat?

Does anyone else feel like Vince here is talking to you like you ASKED him about the Shamwow? Like they cut out the part where you're like, "Hey Vince, my best pal ever, where can I use this product you are aggressively pushing?" and he's all, "This is for the car. This is for the boat. This is for the elderly." And you're like, "Hey Vince, my friend and confidante, what happens to the mystery liquid so frequently trapped under my carpet in the days before mine eyes were opened to the glory of Shamwow?" and he's all, "That's your mildew right there - that is gonna SMELL." What's my point? That I want to see Vince-from-Shamwow and HI-I'M-BILLY-MAYS-AND-I-CAN'T-CONTROL-MY-SPEAKING-VOLUME in a cage match on Pay-Per-View? Yes. And no. My point is also that this commercial looks like it was made as a joke in someone's basement, and also that Vince may or may not be the devil. Because look at his face. It's evil. Also, I don't like his attitude with "camera guy." Camera guy has feelings too, Vince, and tears your glorified sponge-towel can't absorb without probably giving camera guy some kind of face-cancer. Also, I suspect that I would not, in fact, be saying "WOW" every time I used this product, but that might be because I don't actually "spend $20 a month on paper towels" or "blindly buy German products hawked tauntingly by palsy-faced demons." BUT THAT'S JUST MY THEORY. Discuss.

the greatest story ever told

I think anyone who has an interest in both cats resembling people/things AND Wilford Brimley is probably well aware of the genius that is 5 Cats that Look Like Wilford Brimley. However, I've learned from my new husband of one month and 2 days, Justin, that Mr. James Earl Jones, for one, was actually NOT aware of the Wilford Brimley lookalike cats - until a fateful trip past the refrigerator at my husband's place of employment yesterday. That's right, not only was the man/myth/legend IN my husband's office, but he saw the picture of the Brimley-type cats Justin had lovingly taped to the fridge, and the voice of Darth Vader totally busted out laughing. Because of cats. Cats resembling Wilford Brimley. Justin informed me that Mr. Jones (who is apparently neither 8 to 9 feet tall OR constantly bathed in the golden glow of an unseen overhead spotlight, as I had assumed) passed by the refrigerator in his office, paused to inspect its single adornment of Brimley/Cat wonder, and then laughed somewhat heartily, in the general fashion one would expect from the person who authoritatively declares that this is, in fact, CNN. If this is not the greatest celebrity sighting ever in the history of celebrity sightings, then somebody had better stop the world, because I want to get off. Thank you and good day. THIS is Knifefight in Brooklyn.

i thought they LIKED boobs at that store

Maybe I'm just completely out of the loop because I don't shop at Victoria's Secret or, you know, know who half of the people are when I read Star magazine at the gym, but... how is this poor, starving child a bra model? Does anyone else feel like this picture screams sad Russian child hooker? This is totally a Lifetime movie waiting to happen - "Yevgeniya was like any other starving street child in desolate post-Chernobyl Belarus, when one fateful meeting in 1986 opened her eyes to a glamorous, decadent world of bras, rhinestones, and clown makeup (but still no food)... 'I was an Emaciated Russian Child Hooker: Yevgeniya's Story,' tonight at 9." I mean, this woman could be happy, healthy, and 26 years old, but this picture openly says "emaciated pre-Yeltsin Russian sad child hooker in clown makeup." GIVE THIS WOMAN SOME BORSCHT. SHE'S HUNGRY AND HER SIZE 000 BRA IS TOO BIG. Perhaps their Bangladeshi sweatshop employees weren't sexy enough, so Victoria's Secret started scouting this place in Lipetsk for more gorgeous, malnourished workers? I don't know, but what I DO know is that this woman's ribcage makes me uncomfortable, AND her makeup confuses me, because she might be 11. That is all.

oh, THAT'S why linda evans gives me nightmares.

I don't know, is it just me or was this "Rejuvenique" concept actually some sort of twisted joke David Cronenberg told David Lynch one time in the mid-1990s, but then they both stopped laughing and said, "No, stop, that's not funny, that's legitimately the most horrifying thing ever," but Lynch called "JINX" and Cronenberg hasn't spoken since because the jinx-penalty involved something about his Id separating from his being and manifesting itself "somewhere, sometime," in the form of a thousand stoplights? Regardless, I'm willing to bet the farm that 99.9% of all Rejuvenique purchases were made jokingly or while high. I remember accidentally watching these infomercials when I was in college, and then wondering how long it would be before I saw one of those scary-ass masks in somebody's video/film/performance art project one week. I never did, actually, which brings me to what I think their tagline should've been - "Rejuvenique: Even Too Fucking Creepy for Art Students." I know it's pretty tired to make fun of the bizarro wackiness that goes on in the paid programming that pops up at 4 a.m., but I've never quite been able to get the Rejuvenique mask completely out of my head - I feel like I'm either waiting for a Channel 7 exposé about how they make your face dissolve/turn into bugs, or maybe for some avant-garde middle-aged women's dance troupe to incorporate the masks into some kind of critically-acclaimed interpretive routine depicting the death cycle or something. Anyway, don't even get me started on my Linda Evans conspiracy theories.

oh, david gest... the horror...

When I saw this picture on Go Fug Yourself, I seriously thought Gene Simmons had gotten into some sort of horrible face-accident. But no, it's just David Gest, the meltiest-looking of Liza Minelli's gay ex-husbands/domestic abuse victims, wearing a really embarrassing outfit. I mean, after seeing his website, it's kind of hard to imagine how he could make himself look more like a sad, sad, clown, desperate for any sort of fame possible... but then we have this outfit. The ladies of Fug didn't even seem to offer any real theory as to why Mr. Gest was wearing this decidedly "young urban chic" getup, in public, in full view of photographers, while still actively a creepy old man with the chronic melt-face disorder. All I know is that my better half claims it makes his skin crawl when he hears old white men saying things like "give props" and "diss," and I think this is the (equally offensive) clothing-based version of that phenomenon. In conclusion, huh? And also, stop.

i saw vincent d'onofrio

Picture it: A sunny Tuesday afternoon. 2:30-ish. I'm walking across the street at 15th and 3rd. Before me I witness the hulking frame of Vincent D'Onofrio in all his majesty! That's right, friends, I saw the man and the myth himself, live and looking totally sweaty and a little confused. The best part? He was carrying a GameStop bag. I don't know why that's the best part, but it was. I've attempted to illustrate the moment (poorly) at left. For the record, he was 3 dimensional, in color, and less scary looking than my drawing. But he was about 19 feet tall. My totally suave reaction was to do a double take and immediately call Meghan, the wonderful lady who informed me that Law and Order: Criminal Intent erotic fan fiction DOES EXIST. Have a nice day.

at least it wasn't that creepy howard k. stern guy, right?

Congratulations, Larry Birkhead, on the announcement of your now legally-binding part in the 3 ring circus that is The Anna Nicole True Hollywood Story (TM). Well, I honestly thought that Carrot Top, Jesus, my cats, and Lindsay Lohan might have been potential suspects as Dannielynn's for-real babydaddy, but it looks like the sort of vacant-looking tan guy wins this round. Sorry, crazy old dude and totally skeevy weasel-like villain guy! I, for one, am kind of let down that it's all over: this paternity suit seemed like the kind of thing that One Life to Live or Days of Our Lives would've been smart enough to draw out for at least a year, and then periodically revisit in dream sequences and shocking "no, I'M the REAL father of this child" plot twists that pop up later on when ratings are sliding. Of all the contestants in the Dannielynn BabyDaddy (TM) game, Larry Birkhead struck me as the least overtly diabolical, so... he's got that going for him. Which is nice. Good luck with all that, small Dannielynn. When you get older, maybe Frances Bean will give you the name of her therapist.

I love you, kemosabe, Anna"

I think it's not nice to say bad things about sad, drug-addled people, even when they're dead, so I'm just going to casually mention that I've read about how, apparently, Anna Nicole Smith was both a racist AND baby-mama to the son of a Native American gentleman named Johnny Soto, to whom she referred as "My brave Injun man." Wow. You can read the article in the Phoenix New Times, or you can just believe me when I say that the whole story's as creepy and depressing as you can imagine, it makes Anna Nicole sound like a racist moron, and THAT KID LOOKS TERRIFIED. But on the bright side, this article seems to explain why she suddenly packed on like a hundred pounds and then randomly lost all of it. So... there's that. Which is something. All I have to say about the whole thing is that this Johnny Soto guy is WAY better looking than Howard K. Stern (he kind of creeps me out in a "you know he has clammy hands" sort of way), and that sometimes I think that certain celebrities should be given intensive psychological screening and therapy before they're allowed to, you know, obtain a child and subsequently destroy any chances he or she might have at normalcy or sanity. 'Cause what's more precious that some petrified-looking, crying little boy who just might be the offspring of a lady who only did his father 'cause she had "scarlet fever" for his "tomahawk/bow and arrow/insert Native American stereotype that could be interpreted as a word for genitalia here." Yikes.

optimus superstar

you know how sometimes, after a frenzy of boredom-induced pet photography, you send off like 50 pictures to "stuff on my cat" and then kind of forget about it until about a year and a half later when suddenly half the people you know are calling you to mention that they saw optimus prime in a book? RIGHT. i haven't seen it in person yet, but i took this screenshot at amazon.com. i can't describe the joy i feel when i think about optimus prime's glorious mug staring up at people from page 78 of the "stuff on my cat" book. the day i assaulted her with a handful of wacky rubber bugs and mini-snakes and a camera, i had no idea i would be making her a star. for the record, she's entertaining serious offers only, and if you'd like to see her live show, she performs throughout the day in the booda dome. right now she's wedged behind me in my chair, hiding from her adoring public. optimus prime. star.

this one's for my homie nicole

i didn't watch the grammys last night because i had really important things to do, but in honor of this event, i'd like to celebrate a long-running inside joke with my best friend nicole/a really creepy song about stalking blind ladies. thank you and have a nice day.

we can all pretty much agree that michael jackson's DNA had nothing to do with the creation of his children, right?

i know that michael jackson's "thing" these days is to look exactly like an elderly anorexic white woman, but i pretty much don't think that plastic surgery and "the crazy" could've affected his DNA in a manner that would, say, cause his biological children to be little white kids. remember when michael jackson was a black man? i do. i used to have the doll and everything. anyway, big weird old white lady michael jackson's kids are white kids, and no matter how much he claims to understand the mechanics of heterosexual sex firsthand, we can pretty much agree that they're not HIS biological little white kids, yes? unless "really, really liking little sandy-blonde-haired white boys" can make you actually spontaneously generate one. in that case...

well of COURSE there's a poor man's alicia silverstone.

...and here she is. her name is lauren currie lewis, and she was in this indie horror movie salvage that the tivo suggested this morning (the tivo has pretty much given up on "suggesting" anything other than horror movies and episodes of ren and stimpy at this point)(it actually recorded "chopping mall" 3 times)(which is pretty great, no matter what the awesome bruce campbell says)(but sometimes i just feel like the tivo's not even TRYING). i thought it was a surprisingly good movie (even though the "low rent alicia silverstone" factor creeped me out)(the sad thing is that this woman is actually a good actress, who doesn't just make goofy faces and emote like someone just gave her a mouthful of novocaine)(so maybe alicia silverstone is truly the poor man's this lady?), which means a lot in the wake of tivo forcefully and repeatedly suggesting "evil breed: the legend of samhain" in spite of the fact that richard grieco's taut, clay-like face fills me with existential angst. and i don't want to hear any of this "she's not the low rent alicia silverstone, she's the low rent liz phair" because liz phair is the low rent liz phair. thank you and enjoy your tuesday.

kkkramer...

so! i guess michael richards is less wacky and lovable and more, you know, a totally scary bigot than his role on "seinfeld" led us to believe. it seems that he turned his appearance at the laugh factory in L.A. into a venue for exposing his completely backwards, racist thoughts on the african american populace (to whom he brilliantly referred as "afro-americans" in his misguided "apology" on letterman) when confronted with, gasp, a HECKLER! it seems to me that if you're, i don't know, a professional comedian, you should be able to deal with stupid audience wackiness without exploding with the racist fury of a thousand hitlers... some people say his career's over, but i think he'll do quite well touring the klan circuit. um, white power to you, kramer... and if you haven't seen the videos of the incident or the apology, i posted them down south...

holy crap, donald rumsfeld resigned?

naturally, the thing i'd post about immediately following something about britney's divorce is something about donald rumsfeld resigning as secretary of defense. there's a whole lot of speculation as to the EXACT cause for his departure - did it have anything to do with the whole "democrats won a bunch of elections yesterday" thing, or was it just the whole "hey, why are we completely flattening iraq, exactly?" thing... MY theory is that he felt his talents would be put to better use in a japanese visual kei boy band. i'm not sure if psycho le cemu's hiring right now, but if they're looking for someone who's good at the salaryman/twisted villain/evil pawn-type cosplay to fill out their roster, i think he'd be a perfect fit! feel free to put that on your resume, rummy. and congrats to bush's new machiavellian schmuck and (ewww) "family friend", robert gates - now we all get to hate YOU for making our country look like a bunch of paranoid, self-righteous, war-mongering bullies! in other election-related crap, you'd better have voted yesterday. voting is fun! and i heard that mr. puff daddy wants to kill you if you don't vote or something. i think he needs to get his anger in check. but not his flawless skin! thanks, proactiv! did any of my other brooklyn-based associates notice that this joker was on the ballot AGAIN? wheee! gotta love it when the crazies run for office. sorry you lost again, mr. jimmy "rent is too damn high" mcmillan, AKA papa smurf. maybe next time? right... why do we keep voting these non-singing, non-schizophrenics into office, anyway?

independence day for bitbit spears

so our little bitbit finally got sick of MC paternity suit and filed for divorce yesterday. my favorite part of his jarring boot off the gravy train is k-fed's new nickname, fed-ex. ha ha ha! it's funny, because not only is it a solid nickname, it's also a viable career path. oh snap! i kid! i kid, k-fed. we all know you probably can't read well enough to work for fedex. i, for one, think this is a step in the right direction for britney. i heard she's even wearing shoes again! i think we should all be excited for her, and wish her luck raising her young-uns minus one useless babydaddy. maybe she and shar jackson can, like, be BFFs now? hopefully the next mr. spears will be less of a talentless aspiring rapper/greasy "dancer"/gold-digging spermbank/full scale audio-visual assault and more... um, justin timberlake. come on! no one really likes that diaz beast anyway, she's all scary and huge. besides, who could argue with such a dim, adorable, southern, lovable, mouseketeer reunion? they could name their next kid goofy, and ags could be the godmother... awwwwww...

shannen doherty's weird eye... is weird.

is it wrong to remark that one of shannen doherty's eyes is located mid-cheek, whilst the other is approximately 6 inches higher, resting mid-forehead? if we were to, say, get all weird 'n' obsessive about it and put a grid on young ms. doherty's face, we'll immediately notice that one eye is in a completely different sector than the other. why bother mentioning this? because it's very unsettling. i'm one of those people who always gets all nervous when i talk to someone with a lazy eye because i don't know what eye to look at, so i pretty much couldn't ever talk to shannen doherty (not that she was planning on... i don't know, being my bridge partner or anything) because i SERIOUSLY wouldn't know which eye to look at on her wacky picasso face. are you supposed to cock your head at a 45 degree angle to look at her? because otherwise she'd be looking you in the eye on one side and in the scalp on the other. even the mustachioed cat knows what i'm talking about. it's unsettling. and to anyone who thinks "oh, but she's leaning sideways" i say THIS:

oh, anna nicole...

ok, i'm sure i'd probably look like crap, too, if i was some trimspa-addled trainwreck who'd just given birth to some mystery bastard and then immediately lost another child and then decided to get, um, "committed" to my smug, gold-digging lawyer. but i digress: try as you might, anna nicole, there are no fake eyelashes massive enough to disguise your advanced state of hot-mess-itude. does anyone else remember, like, 15 years or so ago, when she was just some pretty blonde lady with some giant boobs who was stupid (but not in an "in your face, super crack" way, more like in that campy, weed-induced-mumbling, straight-to-video way). oh, how we miss you, less terrifying anna nicole of the mid-1990s...

this was going to be another math thing

...but then it was like, no, 'cause "something equals something" doesn't make for an interesting equation! there needs to be brackets and things to the third power and square roots and such, and the devon aoki = winston equation has none of those. for you see, winston and devon aoki are the same thing. perhaps winston is viewed to be smaller, and with more hair-covered parts, and less female secondary sex characteristics, but in fact they are the same thing. and winston (or devon, or dev-win), we really need to talk about the movie "d.e.b.s." 'cause... it was really bad... and that french accent was pretty much an affront... to humanity. anyway, sorry i couldn't dazzle you with my amazing math skillz (with a Z) today. the winston/aoki equation is as obvious as that of ren/buscemi.
some might argue that the ren/buscemi equation would benefit from a splash of peter lorre squared; i scoff at that. steve buscemi is PURE ren hoek. sorry kids. i promise next time my maths won't involve simply pointing out what is quite evident already. sigh... (and my apologies to rich for spilling it - i'm sure this revelation won't negatively affect dev-win's acting career; maybe now people won't ask dev-win to do speaking roles?)(please?)

heiresses with lazy eyes: an epidemic?

ok ok ok, i know gawker tried to explain it, but i'm still not entirely clear as to what a "casey johnson" is, or why its melty, prematurely aging, fergie-esque face is gracing vanity fair (not to mention, um, the REST of her)(don't worry, i done covered up her swimsuit area), but i HAVE established that this casey johnson seems to have contracted the dreaded "heiress wonky eye" syndrome, a la paris. why does this happen? is it some new STD originating from the venereal minefield that is ms. hilton's drawers? does too much coke make one of your eyes spontaneously suck up inside your head? or is it that color contacts are made out of uranium or something, and after a while your eyeball melts? OR is it just that rich white people are all inbred? that's pretty much what i'm banking on. i'm ashamed to admit how much it freaks me out when i meet someone who has eyes that are looking in two completely different directions; i never know if i'm looking at the correct eye, or if i'm looking at the WRONG eye and they think i'm an insensitive, wrong-eye-staring asshole. i don't imagine anyone has that problem with ms. johnson or ms. hilton, as they clearly prefer all eyes to veer immediately towards the... vag... area. fun.

claire danes: controlled by an alien tentacle

d-listed posted this picture the other day of (ha ha ha) "pizza faced midget" billy crudup out for a stroll with his square-jawed homewrecker. i've never liked claire danes because i thought "my so-called life" sucked, and also because i find it hard to support broads who would shack up with a dude who just ditched a lady he recently impregnated. the point is, i've spent 2 days trying to understand the triangular protuberance on claire's leg area. i think i understand everything now: it's mary louise parker. my theory is that ms. parker realized that her babydaddy was a "pizza faced midget," and compelled square danes to steal away with him so she could get some sympathetic publicity AND assure that her infant would not encounter his/her/their/its pizza faced midget progenitor. so why ever would square danes make herself the object of public loathing for a (i just can't stop saying it) pizza faced midget, even if mary louise parker asked nicely? check THIS out: basically, mary louise parker attached herself to claire's thigh via a... triangle-shaped thing, through which she controls her every move. that's right, like in the (totally awesome) episode of aqua teen hunger force where the alien attaches itself to shake via a tentacle in order to use him as a communication device, super spore, square danes is completely unaware of all of this, and one day she'll wake up with a giant, ugly sore on her thigh and no idea where the past few years went/why she's sitting next to a pizza faced midget! you know it's true if i'm saying it, 'cause i don't even LIKE claire danes.

return of the math...

in case you were worried i'd never do this again, fear not, for here is the latest equation. clay aiken minus his menopausal claymates multiplied by classy anorexic friends plus orange spray paint for that "summer glow" equals lindsay lohan! i dare you to find a single flaw in my logic. seriously, don't even try to pretend lindsay and clay aren't the same person. they look exactly the same.

trimspa... baby...

ok, so anna nicole's pregnant (if you haven't seen the video, i posted it below, because i think this mugshot's more fun to look at). awesome. because her poor son daniel isn't screwed up enough (did you watch the show? she was about 3 pills away from giving him some kind of lap dance). i know, i know, this isn't the place for me to judge the parental merits of someone i believe to be mildly retarded/addicted to glue-huffing. besides, everyone knows trimspa is just meth in a bottle (prove me wrong! ha! you know you can't). i just want to say that a. i'm not sure what these "rumors" she heard were all about, 'cause the last thing that i heard about her at ALL was "she done got some MTV bandaids on her boobies" and that was well over a year ago, b. i'm willing to personally counsel* anyone who feels like it's ok to PAY TO JOIN HER POINTLESS WEBSITE?!?! (*by "counsel," i mean "slap." slap and then rob.) and c. come on, rumors? seriously! no one's talking about this crackpot. no one! she makes me sad. even more than courtney love, and d. ewww, seriously, just ewwwww, and finally, e. oh COME ON, lady, what rumors? the rumors your personal assistant was spreading to your lawyer's secretary? jesus. who cares? i mean, obviously me, but who cares? my prediction: have you seen eraserhead? yeah.

brangelina baby may or may not have popped out?

well, the good (read: crazy) people of craigslist seem to think the brangelina-spawn has been born. according to something someone probably made up here, it's a boy, and they named him benin obadele pitt. since this hasn't really been, uh, confirmed or anything, i don't feel like posting the picture they're floating around, so i made my own. it's much better anyway. so, whatever, congratulations or something...
incedentally, the good (read: crazy) people of craigslist have also informed me that may 27th is national bitchslap day.
is there anything craigslist CAN'T do?

cheetus 2: child protective services-bound

congratulations, bitbit, on once again getting knocked up by your disturbingly potent no-talent man-leech! according to this story, uh, the baby's definitely not david letterman's. so... yeah. according to me, however, the baby is chester cheetah's. no! i kid! i kid because i love. anyway, here's to hoping they name this one kevney. i'll bet red bull's preparing a special limited edition high-octane baby formula as i write this. i totally hope k-fed doesn't wander off and shack up with, like, courtney love or something in a couple months - isn't 1.5 babies his exit cue?

ben affleck circa '94! tee hee!

you know how sometimes you're sitting around watching bad afterschool specials, and some random famous person pops up in an embarassing, totally forgettable early 90s role? yeah, so i'm watching HBO-whatever (they have too many subsets these days)(like, HBO EXTREEEEME! and HBO HARRY HAMLIN FROM THE MID 90S! and HBO STATIC!) and i catch lifestories: families in crisis - a body to die for: the aaron henry story (what up, pointlessly long title with colons) and playing the 'roid-raging, locker-punching , girlfriend-scaring football stud himself is mr. ben affleck! it's nice to know he had the same flat affect and trouble with ignoring the camera in 1994 as he did in gigli. awwwww, i kid! i kid 'cause i love! we love you, b-fleck. it was a pretty awesome show, though, what with ernie hudson and grace zabriskie and all? because anything with grace zabriskie is quality, ok? it's true. so: grrrr! affleck smash! steroids bad! and knowing's half the battle. got it?

rachel zoe: possibly the devil!

right, so i saw this picture on popsugar with nicole richie and some other anorexic... vacant... thing, and RACHEL ZOE. i have never heard of rachel zoe, because i spend my days doing important things on the couch, and being stalked by mattresses of evil. i have discovered that she is some type of stylist, and that she likes to make people anorexic. also, SHE IS THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY. anyway, i thought, "oh ha ha, an april fool's-type joke, like 'beware, anorexic ladies of hollywood, sun damage and pruging and smoking will make you look like thiiiiissss' or something" because THIS WOMAN'S SUN DAMAGE LOOKS PHOTOSHOPPED. imagine my horror when i found out that this rachel zoe broad ACTUALLY LOOKS LIKE THAT. in real life. which is pretty awesome, 'cause, wow, she just destroyed my jaded opinions of those "artist's interpretation of subject, aged 15 years" that you see on america's most wanted. that's the realness. no joke. this woman is walking around looking like one of those "dateline nbc" undercover/fun prosthetics exposés about how... supermarkets... rip off the elderly or something... like, straight outta the stage makeup handbook they used for the thriller video. whatever.

oh, drew. why?

ok, le bean sent me this, and i thought it was photoshopped. why, firestarter? why? that's decidedly NOT where boobs are supposed to live. i took biology. HONORS biology. i know things. boobs aren't supposed to drape into your pants pockets. it's not right, and it's scary. is it supposed to be... funny? is she kidding? stop it, lady. appearing on national television in some botched peter pan costume is evil enough without making yourself into a live demonstration of how gravity works. screw this business, i'm going back to vegas, where all the breasts were... fake and actually even more frightening. whatever, i don't have the strength for this right now, i'm going to go watch CSI.

i'm a bad webmother.

i know, i've been neglecting y'all. i'm sorry! let me make it up to you... with the gift of terrell owens! mr. owens turned 32 on wednesday, and i think we'd all like to commemorate his majesty. i have selected for you some of the most... interesting... glamour shots- i mean, totally normal pictures mr. owens himself has provided on his website. which means that, uh, he actually wants people to see these. which is really kind of... not... right? anyway, check out their majesty...

jagged little... bangs?

we all are aware that the ladies of go fug yourself are clearly geniuses, but today they have presented me with some of the most frightening imagery, uh, EVER. look, i've never liked alanis morrisette, i've never understood why her barky-whine singing was acceptable, and i generally think she sounds like a bipolar version of that wack-voiced lady from the cranberries (let's take it back to '94 for a moment, shall we?). however, i've never found anything about her all that grievous, because she's all kinds of adult-contemporary, and that makes me giggle more than anything... but, now...  anyway, yeah, mrs. yelly-pants mcPMS, we're all just thrilled that you're all happy and domestic with van wilder or whatever, but that DOES NOT EXCUSE YOUR ENSEMBLE AT THE MOMENT. she is straight up channeling my 2nd grade school nurse, and i'm not comfortable with that. i have had many a terrifying conversation with justin about the possibility of hipster-styles plunging crazily into the world of 1989-1992, but i never expected this chilling prophecy to manifest itself via... alanis... look, i'm really just not ok with any of this, from the "smart blazer" to the 'i'm in the 'heart' fanclub" hair. make it STOP, canada. for REALS.

the dirtbag singeth

when k-fed says "y'all aint ready," he really means "people of earth, you are SO NOT PREPARED for the aural trauma and psychological scarring i'm about to unleash." he just didn't know how to say it with big words like "experience" and "trauma" and... "people." go on, you know you want to hear what lord pitstain has to say... stereogum has a link to the download here. i take no responsibility for the emotional damage you WILL suffer upon hearing this. trust me, Y'ALL AIN'T READY. this adventure in suckiness makes the "oops pow surprise" guy from chappelle's show look like the secret love child of biggie and aesop rock.

de(a)f jam

so foxy brown's gone deaf. she said in people magazine, “All along, I’m feeling my hearing going slowly, but I’m thinking, “God would never do this.  This can never happen to me.” wait wait wait, what? maybe god's still pissed about the whole "assaulting a manicurist with your cell phone" thing, foxy. anyway, this is kind of awesome for lil kim, who's probably upset that prison is stopping her from creepin' up on a bitch.

she's back, y'all!

ganked fresh offa perezhilton.com, it seems that britney spederlears or federspine or spederfederears or... yeah... um, britney's back! with a 3000 calorie coffee beverage! and a new way to conceal the fact that she never wears shoes in public! it's nice to know that motherhood hasn't changed li'l brit-brit. does anyone else think that her breastmilk probably contains more nicotine, caffeine, and pressed cheese-dust than all the trailer park carpeting in the world, combined? sorry, that was gross. i mean, true.

since my math skills are so appreciated...

behold my raven symone equation: charlotte church plus pumpkin multiplied by nicole richie to the power of ham divided by david gest's eyebrows plus a sharpie equals miss raven symone. don't get it twisted, as much as she ruined the cosby show for millions of americans like myself, i love her for her guileless thickness and frequent use of velour. i'm just calling it like i see it, guys.

oh no! nipsey russell!

undisputed lord and master of, like, every game show ever, nipsey russell, died october 2nd. this had better inspire people to start naming their children nipsey. nipsey nipsey nipsey nipsey. that's an awesome name. recognize.

i understand kimberly stewart now

ok, listen: horse plus celine dion multiplied by world's least convincing drag queen cubed plus car wreck divided by the plague minus underpants equals kimberly stewart. check out my sweet math skills, guys!

it's official, y'all! britney popped out a young'un!

britney spears gave birth to a boy today, and we can all feel safer now, knowing that there's one more federline in the world.

plastic surgery blah blah blah

dude, i never knew that lil' kim was a. black or b. a human, but the baby picture i stole from vh1.com seems to imply both. huh. i guess that was before she discovered her nipples (though, wait, are those little junior pasties in the baby picture?) and made blood sacrifices to the norse gods and turned herself into dr. latoya meltyface III. eww, she makes me scared.

your body is a blunderland

so here i was, casually browsing a socialite's life, when i was assaulted by john mayer's fur... underpants... thing. look, i'm not knocking confusing body hair dispersement or saggy man-panties (manties), but i'm definitely knocking confusing body hair dispersement PLUS sagging manties. like if a polo ad sat down on one of those oily, crotchy diesel ads. it's all "white bread up top, swarthy down below." ewww, i just grossed myself out. those poor girls are all "oooh, captain pubes-belt is sooooo dreamy with his disaffected squatting." whatever, he's gross even without the confusing crotch forestry. don't tell me what kind of a land MY body is, mumbles.

it's all just a misunderstanding, guys.

i know the initial response was to be grossed out and scared and stuff, but you guys, ciara's big hit was about HER GOODIES. which i think is a thinly-veiled code for HER VAG. ok? so what she was doing on good morning america last week was actually providing a visual cue for the hearing impaired. ciara cares about her deaf fans, you guys, and she totally meant to expose her fancy regions on the national television at 4 a.m. or whatever time those old people morning shows are on.

victoria gotti is a man.

when i worked for a certain, unnamed television network, one of the things i dreaded most (other than everything) was when i had to screen episodes of growing up gotti. uh, i guess i just named the unnamed television network - le bean, please please don't tell cankles and the hyena. anyway, clearly the gottis are easily the most horrifying wastes of skin/plastic surgery/extensions/cheap contact lenses ever. ok, maybe next to mafia super-fan l'il kim. looking at a picture of victoria gotti has been proven to be the most cruel and efficient form of torture presently in use at guantanamo bay. SHE MAKES DONATELLA VERSACE LOOK DELICATE AND ELEGANT, PEOPLE. true story. also, i think she's primarily made out of leather. and some kind of melty plastic. and she's half ape. and a man. oh, yeah, and then there's that whole "lying about cancer thing." nice. p.s. if i look half as busted as this bag of apes when i'm 42, i'm going to donate myself to science.

poor frances bean

i guess we're all trying to move on and accept what happened at the comedy central roast of captain booby mc spray-tan and all, but i really can't get over the courtney love aspects of this whole... fiasco. nicole and i totally didn't mean to watch it last sunday night, but you know how sometimes you see, like, some frat guy throwing up in the subway station, and you feel kind of bad for him and kind of disgusted, but something just compels you to keep looking, while his friends stand by, laughing and taking cameraphone pictures of him? yeah, it was like that. why was she trying to bust a move on jimmy kimmel and stuff? did she and pam buy their wigs at the same store? why did she dress up like she got tackled by dress barn? more pictures after the jump, check out the full horror at justjared...

ladies and gentlemen, the black eyed PEES

when le bean sent me this, i almost peed on myself. and do you know why i didn't? because i'm better than that. i have some theories (i actually have a lot of theories) about why fergie peed on herself during a live show in front of cameras and people and stuff, and most of them revolve around the fact that she's actually like 82 years old or something, and when you're 82, it's totally ok to sometimes experience a surprise visit from the bladder fairy. the thing is, if i was some leather-faced 82 year old lady in a crappy band that sucks, i would wear depends(TM). but that's probably because i'm a lot cooler than fergie. furthermore, i really like that second picture, because it looks like that gentleman is leaning down by the tee tee-stain and saying to the crowd "this is urine! and let's be excited for bad pop-hop (or whatever the kids call this crappy music)!" anyway, you should go here and check out the full horror that is fergie mctinklepants. meanwhile, i'll be off copyrighting the term "pop-hop."

tara reid makes me sad

when le bean emailed me this picture, at first i was all "ha ha, tara reid's butt, ewww" because that's pretty much a normal reaction to this picture, right before your retinas melt in an attempt to cleanse themselves of what they have witnessed. you know, like when you see the fred durst sex tape, and your ovaries immediately turn to dust? but then i started thinking about how much tara reid makes me sad, because she spent all her money on her scary boobs and a frontal lobotomy, and i think her liver is probably going to implode pretty soon. and then, like, it will be discovered that self-tanning products and hair extension glue cause rectal cancer or something. look, all i'm saying is, when she hits rock bottom, i hope she takes paris hilton with her. and also a longer skirt. part of me sort of thinks that tara reid is a robot of some kind, like a fairly convincing cyborg real doll (TM)  or something, because i can't otherwise explain why she is unable to notice when her a. big scary frankenboob or b. entire ass region is hanging out in front of multiple cameras. kind of like how paris hilton never seems to notice that her vag likes to peek out at the paparazzi every now and again. remember when people were famous for things other than being rich and showing you their private ladyparts? me neither.