29 October 2010

Out from his coffin, Drac's voice did ring; seems he was troubled by just one thing. He opened the lid and shook his fist, and said, "Whatever happened to my Notes From The News?"

Welcome back my friends, to the show that never ends, we're so glad you could attend, BUT YOU WILL BLOW ME FIRST ARGHH:SRLGRJGJCMIUGU WERIOG++++++++++++++++

. . . Sorry. Guest blogger Mel Gibson got a little out of hand there. He's moved on to playing with the fingerpaints and an attendant will be along shortly to sedate him with horse tranquilizers. And by him I mean me. And by horse tranquilizers I mean scotch. But before the scotch must come the news. Or maybe during. Anyway, on to the bumpers:

Nic Cage watch (sort of): So the sequel to Ghost Rider has been approved -- god knows why, as it didn't even have the saving grace of a mind-warpingly insane Cage performance. But Nic is coming back to give the role another go, and the good news is that the director of the first film won't be returning. The bad news is that the budget has been cut almost in half. (Actually, the good news is that there's no way on earth the sequel can be anywhere near as bad as the first film, but we're not telling Cage that.)

Just in time for Halloween, I bring you some ghosts from the past: A previously unreleased duet between Johnny Cash, who is dead, and Ray Charles, who is also dead, has surfaced. In it the pair perform a version of "Why Me Lord?" by Kris Kristofferson, who is not dead but frequently seems like he ought to be at this point.

Mike & Molly creator Mark Roberts is pissed off at Marie Claire blogger Maura Kelley's frankly childish and peurile attack piece on his show, where she basically says that anyone who weighs more than what Kelley finds aesthetically pleasing is gross and bad and they should feel bad for insisting they are human beings with human thoughts and emotions and desires. Roberts responded to that with reasonable good humor and a certain degree of poorly masked ire. My own take is that Kelley is a shallow twit and that Roberts' show is painfully unfunny and, in spite of his insistence that it promotes positive body images, trades on fat jokes that are every bit as childish and puerile as Kelley's blog post. So how about we lock both of them in a room instead? Preferably with a starving pack of hyenas?

I don't want to go on the cart, dept.: Actress and Oscar winning producer Lisa Blount was found dead in her home in Arkansas on Wednesday. A cause of death was not readily apparent. Blount, who was 53 when she died, first rose to prominence in the role of Lynette in An Officer and a Gentleman, and made a string of appearances in films and TV shows before pursuing a career as a producer. She won the Academy Award for one of her short films in 2002. Our condolences go out to Blount's husband Ray McKinnon and to her family.

An upcoming book from Bill Carter details the gigantic mountain of stupidity involved in the Conan O'Brien/Jay Leno . . . well, stupidity . . . that happened at NBC. Vanity Fair has an excerpt, and it is unbelievably shitballs awesome. It also shows that Jay Leno was far less deserving of blame in this than were the utterly clueless asswipes in suits at NBC who jerked Conan and Leno around like twenty dollar whores giving bad handjobs. If the rest of the book is this good, sign me up for a copy.

CBS has picked up a "family comedy" starring Rob Schneider, apparently based on Schneider's life, which one can only assume is far more hilariously, side-splittingly funny than any of Schneider's utterly dire movies. Hopefully at some point they'll do an episode about the time Roger Ebert called ol' Rob out in a review and basically told him point blank (though more politely than I'm about to) that his movies suck sulphurous eggs through a syphilitic monkey's dick. That would be something I'd watch.

In the spirit of Halloween, Pajiba presents a list of the greatest horror films to emerge from America's hat.

Today in who gives a fuck:
  • The nation of Peru -- THE ENTIRE NATION OF PERU -- is pissed off over a joke about them made by Sofia Vergara in a recent episode of ABC's Modern Family. In other news, the nation of Peru -- THE ENTIRE NATION OF PERU -- is full of humorless dickwhistles unable to separate reality from fantasy. 
  • The "stars" of MTV reality series Teen Mom make between $60-$65k per season. That's a little over the average American annual household income, and it's essentially a reward for being too fucking stupid to use a condom. Somewhere, the Founding Fathers are laughing their asses off at us. It only looks like they're crying.
  • Apparently Kelsey Grammer is such a total asswipe he couldn't even tell his wife he was leaving her for a younger woman; she had to find out from a friend. Glad to see Kelsey standing up for family values there. 
Scienctists in the process of unraveling Ozzy Osbourne's genes in a bid to determine why the Oz is, in Sean O'Neil's memorable phrase, "a recreaational drug Weeble," have determined that Ozzy is descended at least in part from Neanderthals. Which might explain his propensity for eating doves and bats, but it still doesn't explain why Ozzy is still standing after ingesting entire pharmaceutical warehouses.

Speaking of which: Details of Charlie Sheen's drug and booze fueled meltdown are emerging, and whoooooooooooooo boy, they ain't pretty. Unless you think the mental image of Sheen naked in a restaurant bathroom with cocaine smeared all over his face is pretty. In which case you may need more help than Charlie does. And Charlie apparently punches walls with his wang hanging out while shouting "N*GGER!", so that should tell you how much help you need right there.

And that's all the treats I can trick you with today. have a good Halloween weekend, and I'll see you back here on Monday. Now is the time on Nighthawk Postcards when we dance:


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