Left to right: The Beeks, Chloe the role model, and June the roommate.
Girls in they're early 20's, put down your college textbook on the influence of 17th Century French poetry on the contemporary female psyche and listen to me! There's a new kind of role model in town, her name is Chloe and she lives in some really fabulous building in the esteemed West Village in New York City, parties all the time, has no regrets about anything, and has never worn underwear. How does she afford such a fabulous lifestyle? It wasn't cramming for finals in the crowded Starbucks on a Saturday night, she's a con artists, and she's a thief, and she's a liar, and everyone is obsessed with her. Including me.
It definitely requires some suspension of disbelief considering Chloe almost nightly goes out and drinks until she blacks out on the sofa in her spacious living room (unheard of if you've ever lived in The Village), and never seems to have a hang over, guilt, or a walk of shame. She's constantly fabulous. Which leads me to believe that she's some kind of renegade fembot from the future who's dropping hints for all of us Hannah Horvath types to drop the books, the whining, and the awkwardness and just go balls to the wall insane. Then perhaps one day we'll have that West Village apartment, beautiful silk gowns, flawless complexions, and James Van Der Beek for a best friend. Thanks, Don't Trust the B---- in Apt 23 for making it all so clear all of a sudden.
Even the protagonist, mouse-girl June Colburn (Dreama Walker) is questioning her intentions of going back to Law School and finding a job a serious pencil pushing, ball grabbing Lawyer's assistant on Wall Street and trading that in for the good life of endless Vodka launch parties, shopping sprees and casual sex with hotties who come into the coffee shop at which she currently slaves away as a Barista.
Of course, this means you must have a pair of cast-iron kidneys, and absolutely no sleeping patters to interfere with pesky things like a 'job' and 'responsibilities', we can have those when we're 30, for now let's just all embrace our 20's or what's left of them, for what they are, says Chloe.
Of course a big plot hole is how exactly she makes a living from being a con artist (i.e. what is her con game) but it seems to me that all she really does is drown people in their obsession over her fabulousness, and makes them give her all of their time, energy, money, and alcohol. Seems to work out pretty well for her. Maybe we should all start taking notes.
You can probably see where I'm going to go with this. As you know, Snow White and the Huntsman (2012) gets released in a couple of days (June 1st to be exact) and the richest woman in Hollywood, that's right, Kristen Stewart stars as the titular character. They've done everything to market this film to us like, oh this ain't your mama's Disney Snow White, we're going to take Bella Swan and put her in some type of medieval knight costume, and give her a loose, hippie, french-braid. It's brilliant, because she's basically shapeless as it is, let's accentuate her face and make her into a lipsticked, pouty, version of Joan of Arc.
Next to her we'll put amazon Charlize Theron who's breaching 40 and still has the body of a supermodel in her early 20's/late teens, and because it's a fantasy, all these tweens coming to see the film are not going to leave with any body issues whatsoever because it's not like the premise is realistic in any way.
Now sure, this is in the face of such pop-culture icons like Joan Holloway on Mad Men who actually sparked a trend of a whole different kind of body issues entitled 'my tits aren't big enough'. But you have to admit the skinny bitches are winning. Look at tabloid fixture and professional do-nothing Kate Middleton. She's dropped 2 dress sizes since her wedding, and her wedding dress didn't look bigger than a 2 already so that makes her a size zero, and people are praising that saying she looks like a model when all it does is make her brachycephalic leathery pug-face more apparent. Don't forget, she's gotta get pregnant soon, I mean, that's kind of her job, and right now she's looking like she has trouble holding the weight of her own teeth in her head, I don't know how she's planning on holding a growing fetus.
Voluptuous actress Katherine Heigl gets the all too familiar photoshop treatment for her shoot in Marie Claire, when honestly what exactly is wrong with the original photo? No need to make her look like Malibu Barbie.
And then there's the incredible disappearing Angelina Jolie who looks like she was literally just liberated out of a work camp, showing off her disgusting bony legs at the Oscars like that's acceptable now. Speaking of the Oscars, we have stick figure Michelle Williams 'complaining' that she couldn't put on enough weight to properly resemble Marilyn Monroe so she had to wear padding. You poor unfortunate soul. I know, it's really hard to gain weight. Please go fuck yourself.
I had no idea Marilyn Monroe suffered from an eating disorder. Thanks for clearing that up for me.
But back to Snow White and the Huntsman (2012) I'm really over this whole androgyny is sexy thing. It is when a man is androgynous (case and point - Jonathan Rhys Meyers) but it just doesn't seem to work the other way around unless you're Tilda Swinton, and you Ms. Stewart are far from being Tilda Swinton, even though we can see that you're really trying with your awful fashion decisions, and excessive shyness. Get an Academy Award nomination under your belt and then we'll talk.
I just can't, the jokes are just welling up in my mind until it drips cranial fluid through my ears, and everything is going dark. But yes, as In Touch, who has always been at the vanguard of entertainment reporting broke 3 days ago, Snooki is indeed pregnant not with a drunk, sunburnt, greasy, and brain-damaged minion of the anti-christ but a completely human male.
By the time Snooki delivers though it will be just right around that time that the Mayan calendar predicts the world will end, so maybe this is all just part of the ploy, I'm not sure. But another thing that is giving me an aneurism is wondering just what the fuckballs will it look like. Sorry him, not it...have to remember that from now on.
But hey, Francis Bean Cobain ended up relatively normal and sans any lasting problems except for the inherited addiction to opiates, anger problems, and bipolar disorder, so good luck to her in the future. What most of us are actually thinking, aside from how easy it is going to be for this baby to walk right out of Snooki's labyrinthine venus fly-trap of a vagina, is how in holy hell is this kid ever going to have a normal life.
But perhaps we're under-estimating her and her mothering skills will be slightly above Joan Crawford's. Perhaps she won't spray tan him right away, and give time for his milk teeth to come in before giving him his first shot of Jose Cuervo. All I can picture is just how loud it must be for that boy inside a velvetty cocoon of insullary noise. I wonder if that's the most gross thing I've said so far...probably not. But if you haven't started bleeding from the eyes just yet, keep reading. Don't worry it get's worse.
But don't blame me, the idea of having to look down the barrel of Snooki's vagina and deliver her child is something every OBGYN dreads with the shudder of a thousand goosebumps, probably enough to give up their practice if it came down to it. I can only imagine it's something reminiscent of the film Alien (1979) and I'll let you figure out which scene I'm referring to.
But think of it this way, Snooki's prenatal team: this is a service to science that you're doing, and your names will always be remembered, at least in the Twitter-verse. So let's just all brace ourselves and say a silent prayer like we've been since we found out this momentous house-upside-down news that Snooki is not drinking...as much...during her pregnancy. But I have a sneaking suspicion that when Jionni-Mario-Paulo-Guisseppe-Joey-Fettucini-Canoli starts to crown, the head doctor in charge will turn his head ask 'ok, who's smoking in here!?'
Here are some clips of the wonder that is Snooki. Start feeling genuinely sorry for this kid, especially when he reaches cognitive consciousness.
Normally I don't do two blog posts in the same day, but since I'm having a pretty stressful one, and since I'm all out of klonopin, as you know, I sometimes blog out of frustration, which is exactly why I blog so frequently.
Anywho, the highly anticipated trailer for professional Australian Baz Luhrmann's shit show The Great Gatsby in 3D got rammed up our asses today, and I just don't know what to make of it.
So let's do a close analysis of the trailer shall we? Because with every Baz Luhrmann film, the trailer is far superior to the film.
First thing's first, we all know Leo DiCaprio is like 20 years too old to play Jay Gatsby, and just like in Moulin Rouge! (2001). They took massive creative liberties in the make-up and costume department, I mean Carey Mulligan looks like a two cent hooker on 42nd street in the 80's. But Baz was always an aesthetic nightmare. I definitely feel the need to smoke copious amounts of meth in order to appreciate one of his films before I pay the price of admission.
Also, the music. I mean seriously? You have to be anachronistic in everything? Watch the Throne? Oh that's totally appropriate and I get why. Because this is a re-invisioning of the quintessential Jazz Age story for the 21st century, like you don't 're-invision for modern times' in every single film you've ever done. But whatever it's not like it's passe or anything, she wrote with heavy sarcasm. If you really want me to be wowed then give Kanye West and Jay-Z cameos in Gatsby, that would be pretty freakin' awesome.
Now let's just get to it, this is how it should be recast. Mulligan can stay, she looks like a slightly better Mia Farrow when she was that age, so fine. Gatsby is a Gosling role bar none. I mean really. You never considered that? Armie Hammer, there's a better suggestion too. And while we're on The Social Network bandwagon, anything Tobey Maguire can do, Andrew Garfield can do better. I think The Amazing Spiderman (2012) will prove that in due time. Anyway, here's the balls to the wall trailer. I'm not too blown away by it. Also, the title is missing some obsequious punctuation. Like '+' for Romeo + Juliet (1996) or an unnecessary exclamation point like in Moulin Rouge! (2001) (which is apparently meant to be yelled when mentioned verbally), so how about The Great Gatsby ;) It's just asinine enough to work.
This film screened earlier today in the competition at Cannes, and I for one found it one of the worst things that's ever happened in the world of Cinema, that's ever. John Ford, Orson Welles, and D.W. Griffith should like form a ghostly coalition of the willing and beat Walter Salles to a bloody pulp. If I could punch this film in the face I would do it. But instead, I'm making a corn husk doll of Kristen Stewart and punching that in the face. It's healing some of the wounds.
First thing's first. Do not adapt Kerouac in the 21st century. Why the hell did you wait so long to where it's not even remotely relevant anymore. Who in their right minds could give two fucks about some hipster without a job meandering around, having pretentiously mediocre thoughts about the uselessness of existence whilst drinking and smoking a lot. Because, that's all the film is! I understand that that's what Kerouac wrote about, but it's considered 'unadaptable' for a reason. You can't just do that to your film audience i.e. have nothing happen for two and a half hours whilst people philosophize about said nothing in the voice over. Kerouac is dead folks. Oh and by the way, he died because his liver exploded from drinking so much.
This brings me to my second point; it's a pet peeve of mine when people are shown CONSTANTLY drinking and doing drugs, but no one ever seems to get high or drunk, it's like I know you're in your early 20's but if you ingest that much Benzedrine and that much Vodka at the same time, I'm dropping your comatose ass off at the emergency room and making a quick getaway.
Neal Cassady on the left with Jack Kerouac on the right, the inspirations behind Dean and Sal in On the Road. Did I mention both died before they were 35? from alcoholism? Oh I did? well doesn't hurt repeating.
Point three. No one in our generation, who's never 'burned burned burned with the fire of a Roman candle' but plays 'Draw Something', talks to Siri like she's an actual person, and blogs blogs blogs all day long gives two fucks about the beat generation. That shit burn burn burned out real fast, and it's not even nostalgic anymore. It's taking us to a place none of us want to be, and around people none of us would be friends with. You're not watching it thinking 'oh these people are really unique and interesting, they have thoughts man, ya dig?' You're sitting there, thinking; 'wow, they are all dirty and useless. Grow up and get a fucking job...and where exactly do they get the money for all this weed?'
'Oh look at me with my silk blouse rocking out to spontaneous jazz medleys. I am soooooo of the period and don't stick out at all'
Point four. Casting. What the fuck were you thinking? Garrett Hedlund as Dean Moriarty? He looks like the moron jock from every 80's movie. Sam Riley as Sal Paradise (who is just an avatar for Kerouac himself) gets a pass. But Kristen fucking Stewart as child bride Marylou? Are. You. Kidding. Me. She stands out like Winona Ryder in a period costume drama, like totally. She's so not 'of that generation' that it makes me infuriated that everyone is taking her seriously just because she does half of the movie naked. I respectfully disagree! This is worse than Keira Knightley pretending to be a Russian intellectual who likes to get spanked in A Dangerous Method (2011). Ya should have made it back in the early 90's when people still gave two shits about Neal Cassady, Jack Karouac, and reading in general, cast Brad Pitt as Dean, Ethan Hawke as Sal, and Juliette Lewis as Marylou. Sidney Lumet should have directed. Side note, that British dude who's Sienna Miller's baby daddy as Carlo Marx? So bad that it went past good and back to bad again.
Tom Sturrige as Carlo Marx in one of the many ambiguous posters made for the film, caption reads 'we're alive?' harkening back to a question this motherfucker brings up constantly because he's on too much Benzedrine to disassociate reality from sleepy time. So the answer to your question you pretentious fuck is 'yes...but that can change. go buy a gun'.
Also, stop peppering films with big stars that just want to prove that they read Kerouac and are thereby intellectuals like Steve Buscemi and Viggo Mortensen. You guys are established stars you do not need to associate with such garbage. Also, again, why exactly are you naked?
If you want to walk out of a movie this year and be like 'hmm, I didn't give any fucks the whole time' then this is a film you should see. I kept rolling my eyes so much I think they started making a noise. Bright spot at the end of the dark tunnel lined with human excrement is that the films about beatniks genre might not be violently dead from massive head wounds which I personally inflict on it quite yet. Kill Your Darlings (2013) with Daniel Radcliffe as Allan Ginsburg actually seems pretty promising. I anxiously await for it to cure the cancer that I got watching this.
Basically, this sums it up beautifully:
"Many have speculated that 'On the Road,' Jack Kerouac's seminal beat
novel, is unadaptable for the screen, and Walter Salles' game attempt
suggests that this may indeed be the case. Despite its pretty cast and
sun-ripened colours, the film quickly settles into a tedious looping
rhythm of Sal Paradise (Sam Riley) experiencing some kind of beatnik
debauchery with co-wanderers Dean Moriarty (Garrett Hedlund) and Marylou
(Kristen Stewart), before retiring to a shady corner and scribbling
wildly in a notebook. Neither the journey nor the destination seems to
matter a jot." — Robbie Collin, The Telegraph
Which is basically what this film is. It's a dumb-it-down bro-mance road movie. And it's long as fuck. No pun intended.
I realize that all I'm doing is making you watch it more, so fine. Here's the trailer. I hope you enjoy contemplating murder-suicide for two and a half hours.
I'm big on gimmicky bio-pics, and just so happens decided to watch Game Change (2012) this weekend before I fell asleep from how boring it is. Let's face it, we all knew that even Julianne Moore is count-it 4-time Academy Award nominated actress, she's no Tina Fey when it comes to impersonating Palin. All of us and our mothers can do that ridiculous mid-western red-neck Fargo accent she has, and her look is one that even your 400 pound male cousin could pull off with the right pair of glasses and a pageant sash, so the impersonation is not really what we're watching this film for. We were all watching it because deep down in our heads, even though it's been 4 years since the last election we're still clambering around in there thinking 'what the fuck happened exactly? who was making these decisions and for fuck's sake why? did any of us actually digest and fathom to the full capacity the idea that Sarah Palin might one day command from the Oval office. Thank god we never had to accept that eventuality.
No, that's not Tina Fey.
On that note, I decided to keep on the political bio-pic track and FINALLY give The Iron Lady (2012) a go. Because I'm sure the big pay off is watching Meryl Streep do a heavy British accent considering she does accents in virtually every single film she's played in (look it up). What was the appeal of this exactly I'm not sure, except that Margaret Thatcher is almost dead so get a bio-pic of her in the can whilst you're still able, and people still kinda sorta know who she is because they listened to their parents' Sex Pistols records from back in the day.
The film was you know, ehhh. Good performance by Streep, but that goes without saying, the rest of the film was kind of a nap, which I took midway through, woke up, and realized this broad was still talking through my computer screen, and then she gets old and doesn't talk as much, and then it fades to black. Thanks for nothing Hollywood.
And now I was one a British kick, so I showered, took off me knickers, scuffled into bed all nuddy like and downloaded Helen Mirren's Oscar winning performance in The Queen (2006)...again. The film, nothing to write home about. But Helen, how did she manage to stay so hot well into her 60's and play the icon that you would least likely associate with being hot? Wait a minute, did I just insinuate that Queen Elizabeth II was hot? Apparently.
Of course, they had to Photoshop out that infamous tattoo of hers, but Mirren is actually one sexy broad even well into her 60's, and this might be her most frumpy and restrained performance to date. When you put her career against Meryl, there's no question that Mirren is miles filthier. I mean, she was in Caligula (1972) and did a naked pregnant dance...need I go on?
Helen in a still from Caligula (1972) you really thought she wouldn't bring some of that freak to The Queen?
Alas the time has come when both grand dames of the theater and film world have to play uptight snooty and universally cantankerous British ladies in their 60's. Who did it better? The answer is simple. Though both have gold statue of a bald man with a sword for a penis, with and their names engraved on the front underneath which it states for 'Best Achievement By an Actress in a Leading Role', my choice is going to have to be Mirren. Not just because she's the filthier one, or she's the Russian one, or she's actually British playing a British character. Bad teeth, distracting pill-box hats, awful hair, and stiff upper lips aside, Mirren is a fabulous actress when it comes to portraying a woman's vulnerability. Not to say that Meryl isn't, I mean if I actually said those words I'm pretty sure a bolt of lightening would hit me where I stand. But when you're giving the comparison of two giants in the movie industry being made under to play the stiffest of all British people in British people history, who did it with more grace and tenacity? My very strange erection goes to Mrs. Mirren.
Side note, The United States will always have better looking female politicians than Britain. I believe that's the primary historical lesson to be taken from all of this.
Let's face it, whether you loved or hated her, or just thought she was frantically overexposed, Kristen Wiig was a tour-de-force in the 21st century of SNL. Not just as a woman, but as a character actress with no regard whatsoever for her own vanity. Her cannon of characters that she is leaving the show with as her legacy is vast and completely runs the gambit exploiting just how creative she was, and how sad it is that she's gone now, because we all knew it was going to happen, we just didn't know it would be quite the end of the era that it has dawned upon us that it is.
Here's a list of her most inspired characters that in my opinion will always resonate, and will always be some kind of funny, and will always be very good ideas for Halloween costumes. We miss you already Kristy.
10. Travel Correspondent Judy Grimes. The overly nervous stiff upper-lipped Judy Grimes with her inevitable 'just kidding' bits had all of our eyebrows raised as to just how Kristen was able to come up with monologues like this and not break into laughter or flub up the lines even once. Take notes Bill Hader.
9. Bjork. It could be the most inspired Bjork impression we've ever seen if not the first one we've been exposed to. With her princess Leia hair, and fluffy sweater, she had all of us saying 'greetings Snarf, how is your skeleton' to every passing stranger.
8. Lana Del Rey. After her no less than disastrous performance on the 'hollowed ground' that is the SNL musical guest stage, it was inevitable that Ms. Wiig would do a beyond fabulous and hilarious impersonation of the nationally humiliated hipster icon. I love it when Kristen can show off how pretty and skinny she is.
7. Suze Orman. The famed lesbian with tips on how to save money on body cream by rolling yourself in Country Crock and then diving into your gravel pit was all Kristen's handy work, and as much as we think that this was born from her brilliant mind, Suze Orman is actually a real person, and Kristen plays her so well you wouldn't be able to tell which is which if the two were in the same room.
6. Mindy Grayson might be one of my absolute favorites. She's clearly an homage of sorts to Alice Ripley set in the 60's and reminds me so much of some of my mom's friends considering they are all in theater, and that's actually exactly how they talk. Her saying the secret word by accident and then excusing it by saying that she's an actress and it's her job, is never not funny.
5. Gilly. Who doesn't love Gilly, even that first time you watched that sketch and you were like 'what is happening exactly?' after a while, you were doing Gilly impressions...Sorry. :)
4. I think this is my favorite character of SNL of the passed 10 years or so. Let me give you the premise, it's a throw back to the Lawrence Welk Show which was a real thing back in the late 50's and was on variety syndication. There would always be a group of 'sisters' who would come out dressed identically and do ditties. Except in Kristen's case, her character Doonice (or is it Eunice) is slightly off. She has the forehead of 'a side of a cliff' and baby doll arms, and never ever says the right thing she is supposed to, but loves molesting whoever is the man leading the singing with her creepy arms. It's genius.
3. Kris Jenner. In just one sketch, but one that was probably the best parody sketch of the whole season, Kristen Wiig got the pleasure (ahem) of playing famed stage-mom and all around uberbitch Kris Jenner, and she did it to a tee. It was so accurate, that even the butt of the joke said she was in tears over it. Tears of joy that is.
2. Nancy Pelosi. Tina Fey will always have her Sarah Palin, and Amy Pohler will always have her Hillary Clinton, but Kristen's Nancy Pelosi is just a notch above the rest because of it's filthy subtlety and the portraiture of this otherwise serene and stately woman as a dirty-minded enabler of sorts, with the funniest facial expressions that all work to perpetuate this myth.
1. Kathy Lee. Even though the sketch has gone through at least three different actresses playing Hoda Kotb the butt of most Kathy Lee jokes, Kristen Wiig has proven just how powerful her staying power is by doing a spot-on impression of Kathy Lee on their usually wine-soaked program on the 4th hour of the Today show. And I really don't think that any of what she does in any of the sketches is that far fetched, as someone who watched the 4th hour of the Today show at times, I can tell you that this is a stone-cold documentary interpretation.
In his first film at 24 years old, still from Red River (1948) actually shot in 1944.
You knew this day was coming. If you know anything about me you know that I am profoundly and unhealthily obsessed with Montgomery Clift. And when I say obsessed I mean fanatic. I know everything about this man from birth to death but I'm going to keep this short and sweet so I don't drive you crazy and/or make myself look bad. And no I don't get tired of talking about him. Ever.
Basically every leading man alive today owes something to Montgomery Clift. He was one of the first 'method' actors who studied under Strassberg and ironically people much bigger than him like James Dean and Marlon Brando drew a great deal on his particular style, Dean particularly was said to be obsessed with Monty.
Suffice it to say that I believe him to be the most beautiful man that ever walked the face of the earth, that's ever, but physical looks only go so far. His magnetism came from the troubled depth with which he approached his craft.
He was probably the most self-destructive person out there at the time, in fact Marilyn Monroe a close friend of Monty's once quipped that he was 'the one person in Hollywood that's in worse shape than I am'.
Monty towards the end of his life at 45, post accident.
By the time he was 36, he was horribly destroyed in a severe car accident which left his million-dollar face disfigured and the 10 years that followed are called 'the longest suicide in Hollywood'. Pills, alcohol, and self-loathing eventually got the best of him and he died alone and naked in his Upper East Side brownstone in 1966, uninsurable, washed up, and without any friends.
His story is a tragic one, but his film legacy is a beautiful one. He was above everything else a beautiful loser. Strangely, he turned down huge huge huge projects like Sunset Blvd. (1950) and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958)and instead did diabolical films like Raintree County (1956) and Indiscretions of an American Wife (1953), but he was an absolute genius as an actor. I'll just leave it at that, and go watch The Heiress (1948) and have some private time, because I'm going a little weak in the knees just writing this.
Watch any of his films, I defy you not to form an unhealthy obsession. Seriously, get on it, it's getting kinda lonely up here in crazy land.
Below is a scene from The Heiress (1949) directed by William Wyler where I believe he's at his absolute best (also his hottest), and the film is pretty amazing watch it. Below that, an interview with a very sick, alcoholic, miserable Monty about a year before he died.
'Oops, was that your junk? I thought it was a fancy cheese mold you had made specially for me to devour whilst I enjoy this lovely massage'
Are any of us surprised that John-Saturday Night Fever-Travolta who wears a penis cup in almost every single movie he appears in even when the plot doesn't call for it like in Battlefield Earth (1998) is caught up in a gay scandal? Here's what has people all up in arms though, is not that Travolta allegedly molested another human being, but that it was a man, and (gasp!) the guy from Hairspray (2007) who plays the mom might actually be gay despite the literal decades of rumors towards that exact same conclusion.
I'm going to pull a Perez Hilton (my personal hero) really quick on ya'll and out an actor before he decides to do so himself. Go ahead and type in 'John Travolta' into your Google search. By the time you hit 'v' it will suggest 'John Travolta gay', that is apparently the most popular google search for the slightly off-putting thespian (no pun intended) who preaches scientology, makes awful film choices, and flies Oprah's audiences around the world.
And I'm sorry but when more than 2 people accuse you of the same crime, you're probably guilty. So Travolta needs to stop pulling a Kevin Spacey and just announce it to the world, that might actually distract from the fact that people are suing him for harassment. It's called 'pulling a Governor Jim McGreevey'.
If there was a Gay olympics, this would be the trophy the winners receive.
Considering most of Travolta's film roles have become in and of themselves icons of gay culture, I think it's only natural that he stop denying the obvious. We all saw Stayin' Alive (1983)...oh you didn't? Well I did, and no straight man can dance that well.
Also, do we even remember John Travolta from the 70's? That man was so gay on celluloid he put Sean Hayes to shame. I think that it's definitely time for him to come out of the closet and pretending he's having wild furious scientology-type sex with mega-hot chick and former George Clooney paramour Kelly Preston. According to pop-culture recently, it actually helps your career if you come out of the closet, get's you the cover of People Magazine (am I right Lance Bass?), however, I don't think this would be the same kind of situation considering three people are accusing you of sexual assault. That will never be cool. But neither will being a Scientologist.
I would say at this point, Travolta coming out of the closet is up to par with Rosie O'Donnell coming out of the closet. Really? You don't say. I had absolutely, abso-lutely no inclination towards that notion ever in my life. Surely, you jest.
Is it just me or is Travolta the more graceful one in this number? and...Jazz hands!
Considering she's all over the British press, because apparently nothing else happens in England, I can consider this appro-pro for my blog. Nice move having the Rich-Boy Von Rolls Royce du jour you're snogging wave a toy gun that looked like a real gun at paparazzi. Very smart, and I'm sure not at all hurtful to your repertoire. We get it, you're the Prince Harry of the already dull Middleton family, the wild child, the drunk party bitch basically, but enough with the social faux pas. It's getting old, and it screams attention whore as well as new-money social climber.
Just let your sister enjoy being married to the next king of England, and not have to worry about dragging your sloppy ass out of a club or finding pictures of your topless in Saint-Tropez. Nice move wearing white to the wedding BTW we still haven't forgotten that. Basically, stop behaving like a spoiled brat, we have enough of those here in the states, we don't need a British LiLo...or Snooki. Besides, she's not even THAT interesting when you think about it. She's like kinda hot (British hot), and she's got a nice ass, oh yeah we don't have anyone like that anywhere. And what is it exactly that she does? At least Snooki has a job mmmkay, she's makin' that bank...being a professional drunk whore but whatever!
And we forgive Prince Harry every time he dresses up as a nazi or smokes a fatty because he's charismatic and interesting, either become both of those things or get out of our face. We're over it.
Or you can start dating newly divorced royal mess Russell Brand, that might work. You guys seem like you might actually complement each other, am I right? Not everyone you date has to have their own moat. You can shop off the rack if you know what I'm sayin'. After all, your family makes millions putting jelly beans and confetti into party bags.
As you film buffs are well aware, in just a week the biggest and sparkliest names in show business will descend upon the beautiful resort town in the south of France called Cannes for the most prestigious film festival that exists in history. So basically it's a lot of pretentious Europeans and the Hollywood elite rubbing shoulders, watching a shit ton of movies, and booing Sophia Copolla and Lars Von Trier (which I have no problem with).
Two of the biggest films in competition this year are David Cronenberg's urban shit-show BDSM violence fantasy Cosmopolis (2012) and sensitive guy socialist Walter Salles' subterranean clusterfuck of disjointed Benzedrine-inspired bullshit On the Road (2012) both based renowned literary opuses, and both starring the principals from Twilight, how fucking appropriate. When you're thinking of adapting Kerouac, the first person that pops in your head should be Kristen Stewart I mean clearly.
Still from On the Road (2012) be prepared for a lot of nude driving.
Both contain excessive fucking and all other kinds of derogatory behavior, one is surreal, the other nostalgic. One is futuristic, the other, dated. And if you can't tell which is which, then go stand in the corner you dumb bitch.
Point is, that hey, it's France. Neither of these are going to pick up any Academy Awards for Best Tits, but they might snag an Un Certain Regard or two. Both are big 'risk' movies with explicit material. The Cosmopolis trailer was even slapped with a red band, therefore parents beware, but Frenchies get your binoculars out if you want to catch Robert Pattinson's peen.
Still from Cosmopolis (2012) be prepared for a lot of nude Robwrt Pattinson shooting and being shot at.
And to assume that a book based on professional drunk Jack Karouac's On The Road would be anything but blatantly explicit is just plain ignorant. Now, I'm not a big fan of either of the books, but I am a fan of Don DeLillo in general (who wrote Cosmopolis, not his best by far) and a way bigger fan of Cronenberg than Salles. To me, if it's competing for who's got the hotter, filthier, more provocative film, it's like the junior varsity sit-ins vs. the starting team on the Lakers. Oh snap, i just made a sports analogy (not even sure if it worked but whateves). It's a no-brainer folks, you're going to make it rain golden palms on Cosmopolis.
Now none of this is to say that either is going to be a 'good' film in the way that we define 'a good film' in fact, I'm not too excited about either. I'm going to go ahead and say for the record that Abbas Kiarostami is going to walk away with the Palme d'Or or even Sang-soo Hong. 'Oh who?' you ask...go stand in the corner, bitch.
Let's face it, outside of Mad Men, and waiting for Downton Abbey to wrap their 3rd season, we're all strapped for things to watch after we unwind at home. Unless you're into Ancient Aliens and Deadliest Catch, but I need something right before bedtime and I love a show with characters named Cesare and Lucrezia, torture chambers, and simulated sex by candlelight. So it was either I start watching The Borgias, or I re-watch The Tudors basically. I can't really think of other shows that take place during the reformation and involve a lot of gratuitous nudity, sex, and violence, and all in all, that's really all I'm looking for before my sleeping pill kicks in.
All I know about the Borgias (aside from the fact that it's my favorite coffee/chocolate/orange drink to order at Cafe Borrones in Menlo Park, CA when I visit my family in the Bay Area) is that they were one of those many rich families along with the infamous Medici who had close ties to The Pope that wielded power in Italy before during and after the Renaissance basically up until the point they started having Prime Ministers in the beginning of the 20th Century (feel free to correct me if I'm wrong, it's been a hell of a while since European History high school classes).
If Jeremy Irons was Pope, I would convert to Catholicism in a nano-second. He's the hottest Pope this side of Vatican City and I'm not ashamed to admit it, though I'm probably going to hell for that.
Anyway, the show focuses on the Borgia clan made up of really hot guys and ladies who are always either fucking or fighting, or both at the same time. How this is not getting HUGE hypocritical censorship issues with the Catholic church I have no idea. But hey, it's on the poster: 'Flesh and Blood...The Borgias' So basically you can assume there's a lot of naked writhing flesh, and excessive blood and guts.
Oh and did I forget to add that the man with the sexiest voice in the history of all film ever Jeremy Irons is there too as Pope Alexander VI? I've never wanted a pope so much in my life. Also, he seems like his character is very good at oral sex so there's that. I am not making this up, don't shoot the messenger, this shit is actually in the damn show.
There's boys in tight pants for the ladies, and girls in tight corsets with heaving breasts for the men, and there's lots of unnecessary violence and women having the most exaggerated orgasms ever. And apparently everyone bathes, showers, and brushes their teeth regularly back in the late 1400's. I had no idea.
New season premieres this last month on April 8th on Showtime, I'm only on episode 2 and I've already had my sex fix for the week. So you know it's a good time. Also, it's created by Neil Jordan, you can't lose.Also, don't confuse this with Borgia (2011) a series about basically the exact same people with a completely different cast but with even more nips. That you can catch on Netflix, but then again, Jeremy Irons is not in it.
Promo 'sneak peek' below.And below that, trailer for season 2.
Since hooking up with everyone's favorite nicey-nice Gilmore Girl Alexis Bledel, it begs the question, who's next on the roster of folks Pete cheats on Trudy (Alison Brie) with...here's what I imagined.
I would lead in with field mouse Karen Cartwright (Katherine McPhee) on Smash even though they are decades apart, they both live in New York, and she's very field mousy and impressionable, I think he could sweet talk her into it, convincing her she can be in Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce's new commercial for Heinz beans.
He'd definitely do the nasty with Chloe (Krysten Ritter) of Don't Trust the B---- in Apt 23 but she'd forget about him the second he left her apartment in the village. And the Beeks would probably like 'um...wtf?'
Hannah Horvath (Lena Dunham) from Girls seems like a good fit that could actually lead to something but she's a little chubby for Pete's taste, but then again, he is getting bald so it evens out.But I'm not sure he'd venture that far into Brooklyn.
I would love for Pete to experiment with Jesse Pinkman (Aaron Paul) from Breaking Bad if he ever takes a trip out to Arizona. How hot would that be? The answer is 'very'.
And you know he'd be all up in Serena Van Der Woodsen (Blake Lively) from Gossip Girl but she would rebuff him like the bitch that he is.
But the perfect match has to be Ellen Parsons (Rose Byrne) of Damages, she's upper west side, high-end take-no-shit lawyer that would teach him a thing or twelve. And she thinks like him (i.e. how to get ahead no matter what) but she's a heart-breaker. He'd probably end up using that gun he bought randomly and holds every once in a while on that show. Did you guys forget about that? Pete Campbell has a gun.
There is a new show that premiered on TLC last Sunday on April 28th. It's the American version spin-off of My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding (2009 - present) which was a runaway hit in the UK and crossed over to the fascination of all of us over here as well. It's called, wait for it...My Big Fat Gypsy American Wedding. The irony in the pilot episode was stated nail on the head 'though they look like skanks and prostitutes, they really do have high morals' oh the exploitive irony. Thanks for spelling it out for me America.
But back to the original, what is there to say about My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding that hasn't already been said except 'wow, England has a lot of white trash'. This comes as a revelation to us Americans who believe all English people are stiff upper lipped reserved Shakespearian speaking milquetoast Downton Abbey types.
But they are not, there are those that TLC refers to as 'travelers' or gypsies. But not in the usual respect in which we see gypsies in our heads (i.e. Esmerelda from Disney's version of The Hunchback of Notre Dame) They are not Romani per se (Romani is the PC way to describe a gypsy that is usually from Romanian or eastern European origin) They are Irish and English, and just full of the worst taste ever. And it's absolutely hilarious to all of us. The girls all get taken out of school circa 12 years old and save up doing...i don't know...something, so that they can eventually get married off at 16 (after 16 you're an old maid) to some douchy chubby do-nothing and live the rest of your life trekking around the scenic and beautiful landscape of gloomy and boring UK in a trailer. Jealous yet?
Bridesmaids. A for creativity.
Another hilarious part of it, is that though it aired in the UK as well, the program when aired here in the states on TLC requires subtitles because otherwise, I seriously wouldn't understand a word of it. I hate to make this comparison, but they really do sound like Brad Pitt's character from Snatch.
Anyway the best (or worst) part of the show is of course the dresses these folks don on the one day in their lives they get to feel special before leading a life of basically servitude. If you've ever visited tackyweddings.com that basically sums up what these girls end up looking like.
Fake tanned to the point like they look like an overcooked chimichanga, with bleached hair that would make Barbie jealous, the dresses are usually of the design of this woman named Thelma Madine who lives in Liverpool and makes a living sewing crystal hearts and butterflies unto tutus.
All in all, they really are child brides...who also look like whores. Just imagine crystals everywhere including the face, massive crimps and curls, and a dress who's petty coat would rival that first dress that Scarlet O'Hara is seen in in Gone with the Wind (1939) only sparklier. You know what? You shouldn't have to picture it, I'll give you an example:
Most of the show is focused on how hard it is to transport the person inside this ten gallon dress and actually to get her to stand on two feet the whole time.
