Tags: american idol.lip synch, bea arthur, christies, into darkness, Jennifer Lopez, mariah carey, naked, portrait, star trek
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Ok, let’s just get this out of the way right off the top (or with top off, whichever you prefer):
Salient details: Bea Arthur did NOT pose for this portrait. It’s a work of fantasy by artist John Currin, which ought to qualify him for a decade of costly psychotherapy. It’s up for auction this week at Christies and is expected to fetch as much as $2.5 million…which ought to qualify the buyer for the locked ward at Bellevue.
In more encouraging nude news, Zoe Saldana, Uhura in “Star Trek: Into Darkness”, opening today:
opened much more for Allure magazine this month:
“To boldly go where no man has gone before”…cue theme music…
While we’re on the subject of celebrity booblage, major kudos to Angelina Jolie for her courageous surgery and even more courageous public disclosure. No punch line.
As far as actual scandals go this week, pretty much all the oxygen in the room, the state, and the planet was sucked up by a certain fellow in Washington, to the point where Charlie Sheen could have banged Lindsay Lohan atop a mountain of cocaine with Mel Gibson shouting racist epithets in the backround and it would have barely made the promos for TMZ. If there was any truely heinous celebrity behavior at all in the last seven days, it occurred on last night’s finale of “American Idol”. On that over-extended lavishly produced star-studded event, ex-judge Jennifer Lopez and soon-to-be-ex-judge Mariah Carey both performed (and I use the term “perform” with the utmost flexibility):
And no, Mariah was not the stunt double for “Mermaid” and no, J Lo did not receive extra points for doing the “camel toe on rings” routine. But what they both did was…wait for it…LIP SYNCH! Judges on a freaking singing show, critiquing kids for “being pitchy” and “too kareoke”, and they can’t even do a stinking live performance for three and a half lousy minutes? And if Lopez would like to protest how difficult it is to sing and dance at the same time, maybe she ought to do something a little more complex than step-point-march-march-grind-grind.
One last story. You want to guess who’s the wealthiest star in the world? Oprah? Nah, she’s a mere piker. Here’s a clue:
That’s what three billion bucks looks like. Who’d have figured?
Tags: american idol, bra, divorce, Jennifer Lopez, Katie Holmes, katy perry, scientology, Steven Tyler, tom cruise
So Katie Holmes has escaped a controlling overbearing paternalistic cult religion and fled to…Catholicism. Thanks for the unintended irony, Katie. I suppose that giving up E-meters for Christ crackers is a step in the right direction:
Reading all the material on Katie and Tom has provided me with one bit of interesting history. I had no idea that she was another native of Toledo, Ohio. Me, Katie Holmes, and Jamie Farr:
Where else are you going to find a threesome like that?
Katie reportedly left Tom Cruise to save their child Suri from the clutches of the evil Church of Scientology, which by all reports operates something like the Mafia. The only way to leave is in a pine box. Somehow Katie avoided that fate, at least partially because she had the help of her father, a top divorce lawyer in Toledo…and everyone knows you do not fuck with powerhouse legal eagles from Toledo.
Katy Perry reportedly left Russell Brand for a different reason: She wanted her ova to escape the evil clutches of Brand’s sperm (which reputedly has crossed more lips than Folger’s Coffee). Brand wanted children and Perry wanted to keep selling records to children, and she didn’t think she’d be quite as appealing in that cupcake bra that shoots whipped cream if she added a basketball under her belly button. She probably ought to stick to that one instead of her recent addition, the spinning wheel of peppermint bra:
Her insurance company has banned the apparatus since they deem it a hazard to her health after her hair was caught in it during a recent performance. Perry’s comment on the matter was enlightening: “My hair got caught in the wheels of my spinning peppermint bra and began to coil around and around. I’m forced to just go with it so, by the end of the song, it looked quite like I was licking my own tit. What a girl does for her art.” Call me a sick puppy if you want, but I’d kill to hear Katy Perry saying “it looked quite like I was licking my own tit”. Better yet…oh, never mind.
Other than L. Ron Hubbard comforting Tom Cruise via skype from interworld, the biggest celebrity news of the week comes from American Idol. First Steven Tyler announced that he’d give up whispering incoherent nonsense on “American Idol” and go back to screaming incoherent nonsense with Aerosmith, and then Jennifer Lopez just today announced that she’s tired of suffering ever-increasing booty-spread from all those hours in the judge’s chair and will now return her fulltime attention to schtupping twenty-something production dancers.
Yo, dawg, that just leaves veteran Randy Jackson at the judges’ table, and rumor has it that he may go back to his prior career as…what the hell did he do before AI? The quality of judging at AI hasn’t exactly been of SCOTUS quality since Simon Cowell jumped ship anyway, so maybe three newbies wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Given that the last three attempts have been the sparkling wit of Ellen DeGeneres, the insightful wisdom of Steven Perry, and the dazzling sequins of J. Lo, here’s a suggestion:
So when an audition really stinks, the judges can throw…well, you get it.
Finally, tattoos in the news: Miley Cyrus, soon to be wed, has a new one on her forearm: “So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.” Which sort of reminds me of the old joke’s punch line, “Welcome to Jamaica and have a nice day.” Meanwhile, Kelsey Grammer had his new bride’s name, “Kayte” tattooed on his right hip, which immediately makes me think two things:
1- The over/under on this marriage instantly dropped from two years to six months.
2- It’s spelled K-A-T-E. The “Y” just guarantees a pretentious bitch, a pole dancer, or a pretentious pole dancer.
Friday Wrap-Up: Celebrities Behaving Badly: Diva Edition September 2, 2011Posted by Benjamin Wendell in Entertainment, Scandals.
Tags: anal sex, Beyonce, divorce.Lady Gaga, elin nordegren, Jennifer Lopez, Marc Anthony, penis prothesis, player, pregnant, Sinead O'Connor, tiger woods
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Ok, so Beyonce is with child. Woo hoo! To her Hollywood credit, she has an actual husband. The over/under on Beyonce regaining her pre-pregnancy figure is about six weeks. Anyone can do it…as long as they have unlimited funds, a personal chef, a personal trainer, a nanny, an indoor pool, and a gym in the basement that would make an LA fitness club look like a flophouse.
It’s a good thing that Beyonce is married to Jay-Z and not Kanye West, at least to hear ex-girlfriend Amber Rose tell it. She tweeted “Watch The Throne is as wack as Kanye’s dick anyway.” For those of you who, like me, neither tweet nor speak hip hop, I’m here to translate. “Watch The Throne” is a collaberative rap album from Kanye West and the aforementioned Jay-Z. “Wack”, in this context, refers to something considered weak or lame. I suppose Amber Rose would be in a position to know, but I’ll let you judge for yourself by checking this image of “Little Kanye” that West reportedly tweeted to several lady friends in 2010. It makes me wonder just how high the bar is set for Ms. Rose…
Lady Gaga showed up as her male doppelganger Jo Calderone at the MTV Video Music Awards.
I thought she did a credible job of acting like a male greaser, probably better than Prince, who her Jo Calderone persona closely resembles. But I had no idea of how deeply Gaga believes in method acting, since she reportedly wore a penis prothesis with the rest of her costume the whole night. If it came with a set of balls, she might want to consider sending them off to President Obama, who seems to have misplaced his own right after the 2008 election. She could even autograph them if he’s a fan.
Remember Sinead O’Connor, who is probably most famous for her 1992 Saturday Night Live appearance, where she tore up a photograph of Pope John Paul II?
Well, she’s still around, and by her own account, she’s…well, lonely. She’s posted a personal ad on the internet looking for a sexual partner of either gender, with but one requirement. Her future lover must be adept at anal intercourse. Those with an aversion to back-door lovin’ need not apply. Oh, those wacky Irish.
Speaking of a fondness for assholes, it looks as if Tiger’s ex, Elin Nordegren, didn’t learn much from her experience with Mr. “I routinely do eighteen holes in three hours.” Her current beau, Jamie Dingman (yep, that’s really his last name), is reportedly dinging all the best looking beach bunnies in Europe. But Elin probably figures that she can either change him or round out the half billion she missed on the last divorce. Good luck with that.
The last diva under scrutiny this week is Jennifer Lopez. Her soon to be ex, Marc Anthony, is finally out there telling his story for inquiring minds like you and me (well, me at least). Sadly, he claims there were no affairs on either side, which doesn’t add any interest if you happen to be writing a blog. It would be way more interesting if the rumor that Jennifer Lopez’s husband was sleeping with Will Smith’s wife came to fruition, but so far it’s being denied by all involved. So, instead, I’ll leave you wondering what Ms. Atomic Booty saw in this scrawny guy with bad facial hair in the first place:
Maybe it’s whatever Amber Rose thought Kanye West was missing. But that would be wack.
Celebrities Behaving Badly: The Tattoo Edition July 29, 2011Posted by Benjamin Wendell in Entertainment, Scandals.
Tags: break-up, divorce, gene simmons, Jennifer Lopez, Jesse James, Justin Bieber, kat von d, tattoo
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It’s a widely accepted precept that if you get a tattoo of your significant other’s name anywhere on your body, the shelf life for the relationship is about 18 months from the time the needle hits the skin. Apparently, if you get a picture of your significant other’s face anywhere on your body, the sell-by date moves up to just a few weeks. Shockingly, this was the case with Jesse James (late of Sandra Bullock fame) and Kat Von D. Kat added to her body mural not just a full color visage of Jesse’s face…but of Jesse’s face as a pre-teen (gaining extra points for pure creepiness). By the time the episode of “L.A. Ink” showing Kat’s new body art aired, the break-up had been announced. I don’t know about you people, but I’m devastated…I was certain this one was forever. Go figure.
No worries, Kat. With a little luck maybe you can add a baby pic of Charlie Sheen and you’ll be good to go.
But this wasn’t even close to being the most bizarre tattoo tale of the week. Nope, that honor goes to wunderkind Justin Bieber. Justin, who like Britney Spears before him, is a devout Christian and self-declared virgin until marriage (attention Justin Timberlake: How’d that work out?) has sealed his sanctity and devotion with a tattoo on his chest of the Hebrew word for “Yeshua” (Jesus). I have no doubt this is exactly what Jesus envisioned and hoped for two thousand years ago; that overproduced and undertalented pop stars would adorn themselves with his moniker, and that everyone else would parade around wearing jeweled totems of the device employed to torture and kill him. But it wasn’t just Justin who got the sacred inking…he and his dad went to the tattoo parlor together and got matching tatts, bringing paternal bonding to a whole new level, and making you wonder where child protective services are when you need them.
So, just a couple of suggestions for the senior Bieber. First, you might want to avoid long stays in bright sunshine. Jesus may save you from hell, but he doesn’t seem to much care about melanoma. Second, here’s a little something you might want to consider for your next tattoo:
Which is Hebrew for “putz”. No need to thank me. I’m here to help.
Of course, everyone knows by now that the other major celebrity break-up this week was Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony, but what you may not have heard is that J.Lo is rumored to be contemplating rekindling her affair with Sean Combs/P. Diddy/Diddy. Apparently she’s reached an impasse, however, since she can’t decide what to call him; Diddly Squat doesn’t seem to be working. Stay tuned.
The other celebrity split of the week was Chicago Bear’s quarterback Jay Cutler and TV C-lister Kristin Cavallari. Strange way to celebrate the end of the NFL lock-out, but maybe he’s looking to trade up. J Lo may be available (see above).
With all these stories of divorce and division, one begins to completely lose faith in the state of romance. I mean, if you can’t bank on a lifelong committments from Jesse James and J Lo, what’s left to keep your spirits afloat? Never fear. It looks as if Gene Simmons and Shannon Tweed are finally going to tie the knot. This one will work for sure, the Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward for the baby boom generation! How could anyone not want to spend their golden years with this man?:
Speaking of outlandish, Adrianne Curry, past winner of “America’s Top Model” was actually thrown out of Comic-Con for being “inappropriately dressed” (insert irony here):
Apparently the geeks at the event were confused and frightened at the sight of an actual partially unclothed female. Some were so befuddled that they had to be escorted out of the Dungeons and Dragons game room to receive smelling salts.
Finally, no week would be complete without the Charlie Sheen update. When you think of Charlie’s lifestyle, you have to wonder what it was like to be married to him. Did he suspend his love affair with hookers, threesomes, cocaine and booze in favor of picnics with the kids and bridge games with the neighbors? Were his wives so involved with church socials and volunteering at homeless shelters that they had no time for Charlie’s hobbies? Wonder no more. Denise Richards shared with Howard Stern her tale of her lesbian relationship…with an unnamed star “whose name we’d recognize”. Fine, if she won’t munch and tell, I’ll just run the fantasy in my mind with a list of likely possibilities, starting with Heather Locklear.
Until next week, boys and girls. Peace, out.
Tags: anklet, anthony weiner, bracelet, Charlie Sheen, J Lo, Jennifer Lopez, Linday Lohan, penis, pic, sex tape, Twitter, Vanity Fair
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Needless to say, this week’s celebrity sheenanigan news cycle has been largely occupied by Weinerfest. There’s not much change in the Weiner story as of today, except that the Weiner in question desperately wants the whole thing to go away while his congressional colleagues just as desperately want it to continue, knowing full well that it diverts attention from whatever midgets, goats, and underage pages they may be hiding in their own legislative cloakrooms. Meanwhile, much as I would personally like to spend another full column on the bottomless well of comedy fodder that is Weiner’s weiner, no one can do it as well as Jon Stewart, who, as it turns out, is a buddy of Weiner’s from their college days (god help me if I’m ever in a similar scandal and Cory’s the one doing the reporting…)
But it’s not as if the rest of Hollyweird and BelowTheBeltway have gone into hibernation or spent the entire week handing out free meals at the Sepulveda Soup Kitchen. No, they’ve been doing what they do best, providing me with a couple hundred easy words and you with entertainment.
For instance, remember Lilo? Sure, Lindsay Lohan has been laying mostly low, living out her in-home detention for crimes that would have put you and me in close daily contact with large angry sexually ambiguous men in small locked cages, but we’re not stars washed up before we’re thirty. Anyway, Lilo’s police anklet sent out an alarm this week, which turned out to be a false alarm, but it gave me the excuse to post this picture:
Hey, on her it looks like the Hope Diamond.
Also, when was the last time you had a decent dose of Tiger Blood, Adonis DNA, and WINNING? Admit it, Weinermania is exhilarating, but you miss Charlie Sheen. Not to worry. There are eleven pages of everything you ever wanted to know about Charlie in this month’s Vanity Fair. It’s a fascinating piece and I encourage you to read it in its entirety, but if you’ve got other things to occupy your weekend leisure hours, allow me to summarize: Apparently blowing more money on fucking hookers and porn stars than a decent heart surgeon makes in a lifetime and ingesting enough pharmaceuticals to permanently anesthethize the population of Brazil can ultimately lead to a mental breakdown. Who knew?
Somebody besides Anthony Weiner hasn’t been closely following LRC and heeding my valuable advice on the tenets of “The Tiger Rule”. A judge ruled this week that Jennifer Lopez’s ex-husband could release the SEX TAPE they’d made while married. Jenny, listen…if you make the tape, it will ALWAYS make it to the public. It’s a physical law like gravity or the speed of light. All I can say is that I hope it’s better than her video for “On The Floor”, although I’d be willing to bet that that location will also be featured in her ex-hubbie’s production as well.
In yet another breach of The Tiger Rule, more nude self-portraits of Blake Lively were released by whatever hacker got hold of them. If I wasn’t going to see “Green Lantern” before, I’m definitely going to now…mission accomplished.
Cameron Diaz and Alex Rodriguez have split. Damn, I was sure this one was forever.
Finally, in the one bit of news that must bring a smile to Representative Weiner’s hangdog face, John Edwards was indicted today for campaign finance fraud. Honestly, strictly speaking, I don’t think he’s guilty, but they had to charge him with something. Apparently being a first degree douchebag isn’t against the law.
That’s it for me. I’ll be off the grid until next Thursday, and you’ll be stuck with my blogmate until then. Maybe he can devote a whole week to writing about how Mitt Romney is going to ignite the electorate.
Celebrity Scandal Roundup: A HUGE Day September 24, 2010Posted by Benjamin Wendell in Entertainment.
Tags: affair, american idol, arrest, Ashton Kutcher, Brittney Jones, coke, David Beckham, Demi Moore, drugs, DUI, eliot spitzer, House Judiciary Committee, jail, Jennifer Lopez, katy perry, kristin davis, lindsay lohan, Marc Anthony, mel gibson, Oksana Grigorieva, Posh Spice, Sesame Street, Stephen Colbert
Man, this is better than having Dancing With The Stars, Survivor, and Hell’s Kitchen on all at the same time, and that doesn’t even begin to encompass the joy at the return of Millionaire Matchmaker. (Patty is thinner and bitchier now that her own engagement went the way of the Titanic. She’s not taking any crap from anyone this season.)
Okay, let’s begin with LiLo. Lohan shows up in court expecting a stern talking-to, a new doper anklet, and some more celebrity probation, and before you can say, “Will the defendant please rise?” she’s in cuffs and being perp-walked to the pokey. Apparently the bar is set pretty high in Hollywood. Somewhere around your sixteenth or seventeenth DUI, coke bust, or probation violation, you actually have to do some time. It’s just fortunate she filmed the MTV skit with Chelsea Handler before she got sent to the big house.
Meanwhile, in the department of “Blurring the lines between fantasy and reality”, we had the spectacle of Stephen Colbert testifying before the House Judiciary Committee on the matter of immigrant farm labor. Colbert’s qualifications? He parodies a conservative commentator on his Comedy Central show. This is like if the guy who used to do the “I’m not a doctor but I play one on TV” schtick was appointed as the Undersecretary of Health and Human Services.
Let’s move on to the ever-expanding category of famous guys who can’t keep their peckers in their pants. The latest reported philanderer is none other that Mr. Posh himself, David Beckham. The story is that he paid big bucks for a threesome with two high-priced escorts (with the added somewhat embarassing detail that the encounter lasted 3-4 minutes…not exactly Tiger stats). The first question that comes to mind is why a guy like Beckham would have to pay to get a couple of girls to play share-the-lollipop. The answer, I suppose, is that he probably figured he was paying for discretion and privacy. Apparently he didn’t pay enough. When he denied the first hooker’s story, Kristin Davis, the madam who outed Eliot Spitzer, chipped in with the info that she had sent the second pro to the party. Can the sex tape be far behind?
Meanwhile, over in Cougar-Land, Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore spoke together at the Clinton Global Initiative (just one step lower than the House Judiciary Committee), looking like the classic love-birds despite reports emerging of Kutcher’s text messages to his 21 year-old lover Brittney Jones. It’s clear that no one in Hollywood learned a thing from the Tiger saga. They put hubris in the Grey Goose in every trendy club in LA.
We’re not done. The Mel Gibson tragedy just gets uglier and uglier. The latest twist is the report that Mel’s baby-mamma Oksana Grigorieva, had been paid $15 million (!!!) to destroy the incriminating tapes of Mel devolving into a slobbering lunatic. The implication is that she backed out of the deal, looking for even more money. Huh? Is she stupid? For fifteen mil, Mel can come over to my house right now and scream directly in my ear that I’m a stupid motherfucking whore for twenty-four hours straight. I’ll even serve cocktails and canape’s to keep his vocal cords lubricated.
In another example of failure to appreciate the obvious, Marc Anthony, Jennifer Lopez’s husband, is unhappy about J-Lo’s new gig on American Idol…the one she’s getting $12 million for. His complaint? He doesn’t want to have to spend so much time in LA. Give me a break. It’s twelve freaking million bucks. And if I’m married to Jennifer Lopez, if she gets a job in Kurdistan, I’m trailing that booty all the way to the goat farm.
Finally, why they still laugh at us in Europe: Katy Perry got cut from Sesame Street because she was showing too much cleavage. Madness. The viewers of this show only stopped getting their meals from oversize mammaries a few months ago. They’re not going to turn into sex offenders just because Katy doesn’t dress like a Mennonite. And no matter what the religious wingnuts claim, Bert and Ernie are NOT gay (not that’s there’s anything wrong with that).