I don't know if this is just some sort of publicity stunt but Tila Tequila and The Smashing Pumpkin's Billy Corgan showed up on the 2nd Annual Bravo A-list awards red carpet, looking totally into one another. So weird, it almost works.
Also, Kendra Wilkinson showed up looking like a Howard Johnson franchise, Tori Spelling needs a Happy Meal intervention-like, yesterday, Rachel Zoe is Jesus Christ, Kathy Griffin tried out a new lifestyle with Aubrey O'Day and Sanjaia Sanjaya was there despite the fact...
Chris Brown's arraignment has been bumped from this morning until this afternoon. I'm really happy about this development as I won't be around when we all learn that Brown's attorneys have cut a deal with the prosecutor that basically equates to a misdemeanor with no jail time for beating the hell out of his girlfriend, Rihanna. Be assured, no matter what, I will continue to get as much mileage as possible out of this picture.
Want to know how confident I'm feeling about this plea deal?...
Here's a picture of Serena Williams and her friends catching some rays, or really hiding from rays, this weekend in Miami. Her legs are like mighty sequoias. No kidding, total muscle. And speaking of being crafted of wood, doesn't her hand look like it belongs to a mannequin?
But Serena isn't really the bitch I want to talk about. I want to talk about the little white fur ball perched at the end of her chaise lounge. Uh, what breed of dog is that? Because I need one. I'm not...
Featuring the adorable duo of Seth Rogen and Andy Samberg, this 2 minute parody is probably 99% more entertaining than that $72 million dollar car-racing turd that opened at the box office this weekend.
If by the end of this clip the hot Rogen on Sandburg tension has you yelling "Kiss him! Just fucking kiss him already!!" I understand your pain. And while it won't satisfy your sexual frustrations (oddly enough), I suggest reading the feature interview in April's issue of Playboy magazine. Rogen is one of only a handful of men to make it onto the magazine's cover, and the interview is seriously laugh-out-loud funny.
In this installment of How Twitter is Making the World of Celebrity Gossip an Even Weirder Place Than it Was Before, Jimmy Fallon and his family get kicked out of NY pizza restaurant Posto, get into a fistfight along the way, and then immediately tweet smack about the joint and someone who works there that he calls "carb face Carol."
Before I continue, let's all take a moment to laugh bitterly at the ridiculous irony of life, given that "carb face Carol" jab and EB's own recent "Fat Arms" furor....
There. N...
I'm so happy I wrote this post if for no other reason than it led me to this picture of William Shatner and the Mayor of Long Beach at the grand opening of Star Trek: The Tour-- a nasty little nugget of Treksploitation that floats 40 years worth of memorabilia around in a cruise ship, looking to fleece Trekkies and Trekkers in a city near you. Even though I say that, if it comes anywhere near Nashville (doubtfull since Tennessee is a land-locked state) I'll still fork over the cash to go see i...
It was 15 years ago today that Kurt Cobain took his own life with a shotgun blast to the head. His body and suicide note would be found three days later at his Seattle home.
A very polarizing individual, everyone has their own opinions about the quality of his music, his status as a celebrity, and the appropriateness of memorializing his death because of its "ugly" qualities-- the fact that it was a suicide and that Kurt's continuous struggle with drug addiction was probably an influencing factor. But for a lot of people, Nirvana's music and Kurt's death constitute defining moments in their adolescence, and are therefore worth memorializing.
The truth is that we depend upon artists to be the whipping boys for all our inner demons-- to feel intensely and confront directly the emotions and frightening parts of the human psyche that the rest of us struggle daily to keep under control or to ignore, and to somehow encapsulate those battles in four minutes and thirty seconds worth of commercially viable radio catharsis. Sometimes they lose those battles--casualties of an unseen war whose only manifestations are the writing, the acting, the painting, or the music the rest of us so enjoy.
When those battles are lost, the rest of us remain the beneficiaries of their wills, inheriting a legacy of life experiences described vibrantly and succinctly through a lens of concentrated emotion that is at once both out of control and carefully contained in an artistic format-- be that literary, visual, or aural.
So I don't feel at all inappropriate or pandering in memorializing his passing and recognizing his own unique contribution to the rock music canon.
Rest in peace, Kurt. And thanks for the music.