Jim Carrey scares us with his honesty; What’s interesting about the 1890’s? We have no idea. Well, obviously they should have made a game out of Sorry; Remember Heathers? Well that guy will be on TV again, yay? Timothy Olyphant likes to wear jeans and we like it so much we could watch more; The Game of Thrones keeps getting awesomer!
Today’s Hollywood Dish needs a restraining order. Continue reading
Two old guys hitch up their elastic waistband slacks and yell at their computers; some unfunny person tries to convince us that she’s funny based on the success record of the NBC network; Science Fiction to hopefully get a shot of adrenaline; Desperate Housewives is still on television; a superhero gets a part-time job, and the unemployment line is about to get royal.
This Hollywood Dish needs pudding and a nap.
Remember Peaches Geldof? She’s Bob’s daughter and we once saw a story on Reddit from a guy she got busy with. We also got to see all of her tattoos. This week she shows off her boyfriend’s style choices and tells us the meaning of Kubrick’s 2001. Continue reading
What’s that? You say you’re calling from 2011 and phonecalls in LA now cost two bits? Dude, that like totally bites! It’s bushwa!
Well, as it’s on your nickel(s) I’ll make it quick. They say Los Angeles is the city of Angels but in my experience, it’s the City where everyone has an Angle, so I’ll get straight to the point. My moll and I here have all the latest celebrity gossip, and we just can’t keep it to ourselves, so consider this your lucky day. Yeah, yeah, don’t cast a kitten, we’ll give you the goods, the genuine goods, none of that phonus bolonus. I know you’re hip to the jive, so pipe down, grab yourself a joram of skee, and listen up, old pal.
By the way, do you have any idea who any of these fellas is? Some Limey just gave me this list and told me to read it to you. Some kinda doctor or something, said he was, but he looked like a fly boy to me.
Russell Brand’s keyboard is molded of chopped onions. That’s how I’m gonna explain the wet stains on my face after reading his eulogy to Amy Whinehouse: Continue reading
Didja miss me?
I’ve finally made it to the Great White North, only to discover it really is a helluva long way up there and the interwebs are only marginally faster than carrier pigeons, so I thought I’d just yell at you instead for today if that’s all right.
And even if it’s not.
So click onward and behold all the gossip you’ve been missing because you only read the Post and the HuffPost and the Daily Beast and you completely didn’t hear that bit about Linnocent getting shot.
I’m not sure how one squanders a divorce settlement whose value was rumored to range from one billion dollars to less than a million dollars a year but apparently it is possible. In 1990 Patricia Kluge divorced from John Kluge, a man once considered the richest person in America. In the divorce, Pat received a sprawling 45-room, 26,000-square-foot home near Charlottesville, VA and a boatload of cash which most people agree was $1.6 million a week. Since then she has opened a successful winery whose wine was even served at Chelsea Clinton’s wedding last July and entered into a variety of other ventures. However, the debts have been mounting as rumors of financial trouble started when her $100 million dollar estate was auctioned off and repossesed by Bank of America for $15.6 million. Recently, Kluge and her newest husband have also been auctioning off a lot of her own personal items in what has been viewed as an effort to pay down their debts which have been tallied at around $46 million dollars.
Photo Credit: NYSD
Well, well, well, guess who just wrote their own sequel? Tobey Maguire (superhero), Leo DiCaprio (forever having wet cat face), Ben Affleck (of course), and Matt Damon (I’m Matt Damon) have all been named in an illegal gambling ring.
This weekend Amy Winehouse arrived an hour late for her set in Belgrade, and no, she wasn’t using that time to prepare for her set. That is of course unless you consider whatever substances it’s pretty clear she was on at the time as preparation. Winehouse wandered on and off the stage, dropped her microphone (and not the cool way), and was finally booed off the stage. We have a clip from her attempted performance of “Just Friends.” You be the judge.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tuNK6tgVo2M
Continue reading
Hello? Hello? Can you hear me? Oh what am I saying? If you can’t hear me, IT’S YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM, DOLLFACE!!! You’re fired.
Now peel me a grape. And get my lawyer in here. Bernie. No, the other Bernie. This Sid Korshak has to be taught a lesson: nobody pushes Cecil B. DeMille around! Now get my wheelchair. I feel like looking at the little people. I need a good laugh.
ISN’T THAT GRAPE READY YET???
No, NOT a red one. I only like the green ones. I hate Reds. While you’re running for your life to find me some green grapes, I’ll just loll here in my golden bathtub filled with tears freshly wrung from the pillows of virginal prom queens turned used-up chorines, and scrub my back with my souvenir loofah wrenched from the pinnacle of Sagrada Familia. God, I love Culture.
And baby, a semi-unfatted soy latte, half-caf. No foam. Three thirty second shots. Stirred clockwise three times by an ivory and unicorn-hair wand.
I’ll be here reading the trades.