29 November 2010

A flask I drink of sober tea, while relay cameras monitor the Notes From The News

Welcome back, all. Hope your Thanksgiving weekend was everything you wanted it to be and more. Ours was good, though coming back to three extra days' worth of work today means a somewhat delayed blog post . . . though I was able to put one together for you nonetheless. Let's bump the bumpers, shall we?


I don't want to go on the cart, dept. (part one): The last thing he said to me, "Doc," he said, "some time when the crew is up against it, and the breaks are beating the boys, tell them to get out there and give it all they got  . . . and win just one for the Zipper. I don't know where I'll be then, Doc," he said, "but I won't smell too good, that's for sure." So long, Leslie.


Normally I stay away from politics on this site, but every so often I come across a story so inexcusably, egregiously, rampantly full of bugfuck god damn stoopid that I feel compelled to link to it and say a word or two. So, in short order: Dear Pennsylvania Office of Homeland Security, WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK. You do realize exactly how much this violates the Constitution, yes? Or maybe no, you don't, since you were pinheaded ass-wookie moronic enough to do it anyway. Way to go, guys. And way to go Mark Ruffalo for laughing it off instead of demanding punishment for your rights being violated in such a blatant fashion.  You know, what with the unchallenged setting of precedents and what not. Yeah, well done all around. And fuck you all around too.


Seems that country music starlet Miranda Lambert threw a drink in Nickelback singer Chad Kroeger's face back on November 10 because he called her a bitch for not drinking shots with him. Sure, it's old news, but I just now found out about it and I am very much in favor reporting on anything unfortunate that happens to Nickelback's frontdouche. Miranda deserves a medal. 


The Black-Eyed Peas have been tapped to play during the Super-Bowl halftime show, because . . . well, ummm . . . err . . . aeeee . . .huh. I'm sure there must be a reason. Oh wait, I know! Money. As in, Fergie needs some for more meth. 


In other news about bad entertainment, the highly overrated Julie Taymor and the incredibly overrated U2's Broadway  bread and circuses (strike) musical Spider-Man: Open Up Your Wallets started a series of preview performances last night, and it was less than spectacular. Unless watching actors dangle around in mid-air because the flying harness effect kept locking up in the middle of an impossible to follow story is your idea of spectacular. At least the 6 year old they New York Times interviewed thought it was cool. 


This just in: James Franco and Anne Hathaway will host the next Academy Awards show. Presumably they will not be asked to re-enact scenes from their most recent films. Which is good in Franco's case, but which sucks in Anne's case, and OINK OINK OINK OINK.


Awwwww, that's so cute. Dan Aykroyd thinks there's still going to be a Ghostbusters 3. What a little scamp he is. *ruffles Dan's hair*


I don't want to go on the cart, dept. (part 2): Irvin Kershner, director of The Empire Strikes Back, died yesterday at age 87. Kersh was nowhere near as funny as Leslie Nielsen, though he did have the singular honor of being the only director to actively work to improve a Star Wars script and make the characters more human and believable . . . something George Lucas was unable to do despite five other attempts at it. 


Today in who gives a fuck:
  • Mariah Carey may be expecting twins. This is important because just think about the breast-feeding implications. 
  • Rihanna says she could be pregnant a year from now. Or she could be breaking rocks in a chain gang while kickboxing Jean-Claude Van Damme. Because you know, she's just hardcore like that. 
  • Justin Bieber has a new haircut. And if we paid half as much attention to our politicians as we do to shit like this, Mark Ruffalo wouldn't be on a terror watchlist for organizing a movie screening. Nyah, so there. 


And now, in our Least Likely Where Are They Now? Ever segment, Luther "Uncle Luke" Campbell, formerly of 2 Live Crew and "Oh! Me So Horny" fame, is now . . .  wait for it . . . coaching high school football. This is actually so lame it's kind of awesome. 


Speaking of which: Michael Bay is still worried about the size of his dick.


Tom Waits will be publishing a book of poetry next year, which will combine his verses with photos of homeless people. This is such a perfect marriage of ideas I can't even find a bad joke to make about it. 


And finally: From Texas comes the unbelievable, SHOCKING news that Willie Nelson was arrested over the weekend for possession of marijuana. I'm just . . . crestfallen here. Willie? Smoke pot? I'm stunned! THERE'S NOTHING TO BELIEVE IN ANY MORE, MAAANNNNN!


And that's that. I need to go do non-blog things for a bit. Now is the time on Nighthawk Postcards when we ARRRGGGG OMG DIE MISTER MANS DIE DIE DIE WHY WON'T MISTER MANS DIE?






Later!

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