'Ello 'ello, wot's all this, then? Feeling considerably better today, even with the side effects of the flu vaccine taken into consideration. Thanks one and all for being patient with me this week while I muddled through and mustered my mustard for you to relish. And no, I have no earthly clue what the hell that means, either. Which means it's probably an opportune moment to transition over to today's extra-long edition of the newsnotes:
The poster for the Jodie Foster-directed movie The Beaver, starring everyone's favorite drunken racist abuser Mel Gibson, has made its debut, and . . . oh dear . . . oh *snx* deary me . . . *snicker* I just . . . *chortle* . . . I can't . . . *snort* . . . I mean . . . BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAA!!! Wow. Well, it was a nice career you had for a while there, Mel. Nice knowing ya.
This just in: well-known miser and cheapskate (THAT'S A JOKE, SON) Roland Emmerich is working on a hot potato grand slam super slammin' hump the monkey ding dong dilly of an idea: a movie about an alien invasion told from a ground-level perspective, using the "found footage" idea that the kids all seem to like these days. The movie will be called The Zone, and it will be made for less than five million dollars. Which is usually what Emmerich spends on toilet paper on a given day.
And every time contractions seize my baby bearing back I hope you feel it, dept.: For no reason at all, here is a very pregnant Alanis Morisette in a bikini, looking like she just kissed a well traveled fireplug. Good luck Alanis; at least it isn't a Coulier.
Miley Cyrus has been signed as the lead in So Undercover, which will feature her as a "tough, street-smart private eye," and . . . . . . oh dear . . . oh *snx* deary me . . . *snicker* I just . . . *chortle* . . . I can't . . . *snort* . . . I mean . . . BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!! Wow. I can't believe grown adults with college educations get paid to sit around and think this shit up.
In case you aren't a regular reader of the A.V. Club website, they have a semi-regular series going called "Whatever Happened to Alternative Nation?" that has been a bi-weekly slice of awesome. Part Three just went up the other day and it's an incisive, telling look at Pearl Jam and its rise to, and subsequent repudiation of, worldwide fame. Personal note: when I lived in Chicago Eddie Vedder's mom used to call the local alternative station, Q101, and tell stories about Eddie, and she was a hoot. Eddie finally learned about it and asked her to stop -- which I can dig now as it had to be some embarrassing shit to have to go through, but at the time everyone thought Ed was kind of being a twat. And that was before the No Code album.
Paul Reubens would like us all to know that he is a separate person from Pee Wee Herman. To which we respond: We know you are, but what are you?
Today in who gives a fuck:
- Demi Lovato has entered rehab. Good for her. Now someone please tell me who in the fucking fuck Demi Lovato is.
- One of the surely, surely a good idea shows on Oprah Winfrey's new network is going to be a reality show where Ryan and Tatum O'Neal live together in an attempt to salvage their father-daughter relationship, which has suffered more damage than the USS Arizona did on 12/7/41. What could possibly go wrong?
- Note to website editors: You know, any time your article starts off with the headline "Fergie goes pantsless," you should probably just call it a day and go get drunk.
Terra Nova, Steven Spielberg's clearinghouse for old leftover Jurassic Park effects, can't seem to get its shit or anything else together. Not only has executive producer David Fury jumped ship, the show's Comic-Con presentation canceled, and its premiere date pushed back to Fall 2011, now it turns out that Fox, which was all gung ho for the series at first, has pink slipped most of the writers in order to avoid paying them between now and the start of production in Summer 2011. Anyone get the feeling that somewhere, Joss Whedon's spider sense is tingling?
And now, here's Shaquille O'Neal in drag singing a Beyonce song, because I secretly hate each and every one of you.
And finally: Jay-Z says he might run for president in two years, and . . . oh dear . . . oh *snx* deary me . . . *snicker* I just . . . *chortle* . . . I can't . . . *snort* . . . I mean ... BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! *wipes tear from eye* Ohhh, I'm sorry. it's just been that kind of day.
Well, that's enough punishment for one day, I think. Now is the time on Nighthawk Postcards when we OOGA BOOGA BOOGA: