Justin Combs, heir to Sean "Just Call Me Puffy" Combs' hip-hop, clothing, vodka, and Cheeze Doodle empire (he owns "Puffy Cheeze Doodles," right?) is going to UCLA and is not going to pay one red cent.
All of Herman Cain's conservative buddies are ditching him now, after word came out that he was allegedly sexing up a non-wife gal for 13 years. No longer is this a "high tech lynching" in their minds. Why are they ditching this true conservative? Where's the support during tough times? For that, we must turn our attention to the most fascinating place on earth: The Arizona state Senate.
Each of the individual "states"—the little McNugget-shaped landmasses that make up the United "States" of America—have their very own little economies, just like a real country. Perhaps, although the entire USA is broke as a motherfucker, taking a "granular" look at the state level will revel that, like a weird, unseen quantum world, their own economies are stronger than expected. Maybe?
Oh, dear. America's favorite stoner blogger, Andrew Sullivan, is worried that "p.c. egalitarianism" has "strangled" "the study of intelligence." But what does that mean? Let us help you translate!
Harvard law professor and nebbishy Wikileaks attorney Alan Dershowitz is gunning for the Nobel Peace Prize this year. In an effort to really solve this whole pesky Israeli-Palestinian conflict thing, Dershowitz sent Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu a copy of the "Palestinian Chicken" episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm.
With two former members of the Federal Trade Commission on payroll, perhaps it's not surprising that Facebook just got let off the hook for mass violations of federal privacy rules. It's pretty depressing, though.
The other storylines are spent: Newt Gingrich surging, Herman Cain maybe dropping out, Mitt Romney hanging in there, still, while being hated by his political party. But about our man Rick Perry? Sure, he's a terrible candidate who screws himself over each time he does anything in public. And his campaign's funding has mostly dried up, although he still has a modest stack of summer cash in the bank. How will he come back, even though he probably won't? It is a three-part strategy.
As if the News Corp. hacking scandal weren't already lousy with pitch-perfect villains, a new one has topped them all. Former News of the World deputy features editor Paul McMullan gave a bravura performance today before a British government inquiry into the press scandal, gamely defending the most loathsome transgressions of his colleagues in the U.K. tabloid press with Snidely Whiplash relish.
Yesterday we introduced you to Mark Kelley, the literary agent with a particularly forceful, unsolicited brand of flair. Did Mark Kelley send a lengthy follow-up email last night, CC-ed to a bunch of investigative reporters, for some reason? Of course he did. Should we share this with you? Eh, why not.
Backyards are a wonderful place to have a barbecue or a swing set or a charity fashion show and shoe line premiere party. You know, like any old Thursday afternoon in Beverly Hills. But it wouldn't be a Housewives fashion show without a stupid fight, would it?
What Christmas has been missing, I think, is guns. Right? The Gospel of Luke is cute, I guess, but it's kind of, you know, "not enough guns." Luckily, that is a problem that the state of Arizona is uniquely suited to rectify. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you: "Santa and Machine Guns."
Another alleged victim of Oneal Ron Morris—the Floridian fake doctor accused of injecting "cement, 'Fix a Flat,' mineral oil, and superglue" into her patients—has come forward. Rajee Narinesingh tells Miami's CBS affiliate that she heard about Morris by "'word of mouth' in the transsexual community," and underwent the procedures out of desperation:
Forget Spotify, all the cool kids are jamming to sweet, soothing whale songs the Whale Song Project (Whale.fm.) Whale.fm is a joint project of Scientific American and the Citizen Science Alliance, which asks internet users like you to listen to whale songs in a massive database then match them up with similar-sounding songs, to help scientists figure out how whales communicate.
Back in the summer of 2008, as the financial system teetered on the edge of collapse, no one knew what would happen to the debt-laden mortgage giants Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac—would they be allowed to go under, or would the government come to their rescue? What would become of the shareholders? Trillions rested on the answers to those questions. Oh wait, someone did know. Treasury Secretary Hank Paulson. And he told his hedge fund pals and former Goldman Sachs colleagues. He just didn't tell you. Because, really—who the fuck are you?
