The neat thing about this ad is that even though the model guy and his creative team were probably like "We're in France, whatever," it's just as easy to find the names of everyone involved in creating this ad and where they work as it would be to send that information directly to the Hells Angels chapter in Paris.
Herman Cain's big appearance at the National Press Club today went... well who knows! Questions still linger about his alleged sexy talk with employees back in the day. But what do serious allegations of sexual harassment from multiple women who were eventually paid off really mean, when you've got a solid singing voice?
In your shocked Monday media column: a new low in college journalist-administration relations, Joe Levy out at Maxim, hard times at Newsbeast, James Rainey returns to reporting, and a CNN morning shuffle.
Ah, so this is that version of Rick Perry who, according to folklore, is known to chug a full bathtub of champagne and benzos. It's his latest Iowa ad! "I'm a doer, not a talker," he says, cheerily, allowing sprightly music to plug up the holes in his otherwise hackneyed message. The man couldn't be any happier, as he skips off to a garden party in the Hundred Acre Wood.
On her first two days of community service at the L.A. County Morgue, Lindsay Lohan was late, alienated morgue authorities with extravagant food orders, and carried $4,000 worth of designer purses. But her most recent day at the morgue was more successful! Our favorite legally-challenged ingenue is finally getting the hang of it, and is even—dare we say?—popular at the morgue. How does she make it work?
The NYPD has allegedly come up with an ingenious way to sabotage the Occupy Wall Street protest in lower Manhattan: Just send drunks and homeless people down there!
Goldman Sachs has taken plenty of well-deserved knocks over the last three years, but the man single-handedly most responsible for damaging the Wall St. giant's reputation hasn't worked there for more than a decade: Having done a tour as a shitty senator and a loathed governor, former CEO Jon Corzine has added failed futures broker to his post-Goldman career.
Kim Kardashian dressed up as Poison Ivy for Halloween and is divorcing her husband. Demi Moore dressed up as a divorcee. Lindsay Lohan is wearing an innocent nun's costume, Jessica Simpson is rocking an "immaculate conception" look, and Taylor Swift is going as a nude photo scandal. Monday's gossip doesn't know if it's a trick or a treat.
Earlier this year, Catholic University president John Garvey vowed to get rid of co-ed dorms, lest his school further descend into the depths of liquor-soaked "nun and priest"-themed heterosexual orgies. Is mere sexxxual segregation enough to tame the devilish sexxx hormones of sexxxy young sexxx-crazed students at the very peak of their sexxxuality?
This TV star is trying to get back into acting by making connections as a drug dealer. This media mogul married a lesbian, and this funny man is a terror on set. Well, at least he can peddle coke if he gets fired.
The New York Post—the fascist barrel-scraping newspaper with its finger placed closest to the vibrant pulse of young, "hip" Brooklynites—has unearthed a new, hip trend, which is occurring among hipsters—in Brooklyn, of course. The hip, fashionmongering young people are diving into dumpsters to extract food, completely without care for the inherent wackiness of such a stunt, their eyes focused on only on nutrition—and hipness. Who ever heard of such a thing?
