Hey hey, holy mackerel, no doubt about it, Friday is here and the weekend is near, and it can't come soon enough for me. Been a hell of a week, full of bronchitis and a wife with food poisoning and a son with a cold and antibiotics which are making my life interesting, not to mention my digestive system. But before we get into TMI territory, here's some newsnotes for ya:
Reports of my bowdlerizing have been greatly exaggerated, dept.: Despite earlier reports that the potential new Hellraiser movie will be PG-13 and has jettisoned original Pinhead Doug Bradley in favor of a newer, more emo-looking actor named Stephan Smith Collins who looks not at all formidable in the makeup, it turns out that none of this is necessarily correct. Apparently Collins was intended to star in a direct to DVD sequel which Dimension Films has now scrapped (I guess?) in favor of a cinematic reboot, and that it's intended to have a more "adult" script. Aaaaaaand Doug Bradley is not necessarily out of the running. Except this is still all unconfirmed until it actually happens. No tears, please. It's a waste of good suffering.
Conan O'Brien is stepping up the hijinx on the road to his TBS premiere: he set up a webcam in the writing room, and the result was . . . bears in spandex doing aerobics. Because what else would you do with a webcam in the room, seriously? Well, I mean besides set up a paywall and charge by the hour. Presumably Team Coco will do that when Masturbating Bear gets back from its vacation.
You may or may not be familiar with Ron Shelton. Shelton has directed sports related films like Tin Cup, White Men Can't Jump, and the classic Bull Durham, which is based on Shelton's days playing minor league baseball. Well, sounds like Shelton is returning to that well for the upcoming TBS series Hound Dogs, which he's just been inked to produce. It's a comedy/drama (aren't they all) dealing with the travails of a minor league ballclub. Good luck to Shelton and TBS; hope the ratings keep your show shagging fungoes for a while to come.
The fact that I am reporting this should tell you what a slow day it is, dept.: Lindsay Lohan was back in court today and has been ordered to return to rehab until January 3, 2011. This will ensure that anybody who had her in the death pool before then is shit out of luck. Keep dodging the reaper, Lindsay.
Congratulations Martin Freeman, Richard Armitage, Aidan Turner, Rob Kazinsky, Graham McTavish, John Callen, Stephen Hunter, Mark Hadlow, Peter Hambleton, and (presumably) Andy Serkis and Ian McKellen. You've all been selected to appear in Peter Jackson's two-part adaptation of The Hobbit, which Jackson is not at all doing to get back some of his box office mojo after King Kong and The Lovely Bones turned out to be gigantic balls of meh. Don't worry! The production is not at all troubled and is not being financed by a studio that's in the middle of going bankrupt, and there have been no labor troubles that have led Jackson to move the filming out of New Zealand. Nor is there any worry that he will have to scout a new location and re-do almost all of his pre-production work, which originally took more than a year, with only four months left until principal photography begins. Nope, none of this is happening at all. But I would run very fast if i were you, just the same.
Breakfast at the Tiffany network, dept.: CBS has said it will renew all of its first season shows for next season, even the poorly received ones like $#*! My Dad Says and The Defenders. Either the network is extremely confident in its lineup, they have no slate of new shows to replace anything that they tank, or they're just smoking the best goddamn weed in the universe and think Jim Belushi and Bill Shatner are utterly fucking hysterical.
Easily the highlight of the Night of Too Many Stars benefit show for autism research was Chris Rock's segment, in which he auctioned off his services to call someone's ex and read them the riot act as only Chris Rock can. The winning bidder, who must consider the $20K she ponied up the best money she ever spent on a charitable endeavor, got to hear Rock call her ex boyfriend and let him have it with both barrels. Bonus: the guy is (or maybe was, now) a huge Chris Rock fan. That's how you raise money, bitches.
Things that make you go hmmmm, dept.: Colin Farrell is the favorite to star in the thoroughly unnecessary remake of Total Recall, with Tom Hardy and Michael Fassbender close behind him. Why anyone thinks that this needs to be done is as much of a mystery as where Arnold got that fake head in the original movie.
Today in who gives a fuck:
- Mel Gibson's "comeback" cameo in The Hangover 2 has been scuttled, because durr hey, a lot of people in the film industry suddenly and mysteriously no longer want to work with him. I can't imagine why.
- Jersey Shore Oompa-Loompa Snooki says she hasn't had sex in three months. This is actually heartening in that there seems to be a finite number of morons who would sleep with her. I have renewed hope for the future.
- Katy Perry and Russell Brand will join together in their sure-to-last-forever (or until a year from now, whichever comes first) wedded bliss during a six day long celebration in India, where they will be married in a traditional Hindu ceremony -- even though neither one of them is Hindu. Somewhere Mohandas K. Gandhi is either smiling benevolently or is seriously pissed the fuck off.
The poor boy changes clothes and puts on aftershave, dept.: Kanye West went on Ellen the other day to pretend he's all contrite and humble about the Taylor Swift nonsense. How do we know this? Apparently because he has had a dentist extract his bottom teeth and replace them with diamonds. I just . . . I mean . . . holy fuck. I don't want to go off on a rant here, but what the FUCK is WRONG with your stupid god damn ass, Kanye? People in this country are worried about putting food on the table and you're shoving precious stones into your jaw to show the world . . . what, exactly? How it's possible for a douchebag to have too much money and no fucking common sense? How even a fool and his money can get a table at the best restaurant in town? How drinking a bottle of cheap cognac every day makes you act like a fucking moron? Un-im-fucking-pressed am I. I see homeless crazy people on the street every day that are more sensible than you and your fucked up attention whoring life. Tell you what, Mr. West: GO FUCK YOURSELF. IN THE ASS. WITH A BIG RUBBER DICK. You want to show people how fucking humble you are, invest in some businesses in some poor urban neighborhoods and CREATE SOME FUCKING JOBS instead of mutilating your lower jaw just so people will look at your fucking freakshow ass. That's what would impress me. Do some actual good for people instead of expecting everyone to want to fall on their knees and suck your dick because you look like a blinged out freak from a Busta Rhymes video (and incidentally, Busta is a thousand times the rapper you will ever be, you no-talent twat-waffle). That would impress me. Until then you're just another sucka MC trying too hard to make people think you're a lot more than you are -- which is a step above the shit I wiped off my shoe yesterday. In short: you suck, 'Ye. You suck the ass of creation.
Whoo. I feel better now. And sorry to leave you on that note, but now is the time on Nighthawk Postcards when we SPAZ THE FUCK OUT:
Have a good weekend!