Fresh off their hot, African safari of sexual sex-making that inspired locals to fear a lion-mauling took place in their bungalow, new Hollywood golden couple (sorry, Cruise-Holmes!) Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie embarked on an erotic thrill-ride through Morocco, where Pitt is starting to shoot Babel. Rush and Molloy say People will say:
· Arianna Huffington swears up and down that the celebrities appearing on The Huffington Post are not going to use ghost writers. Come on, like Warren Beatty ever learned to read and write? Nice try, wily Arianna! Additionally, please note that "assistants" and "ghost writers" are entirely different things. [via LA Observed]
· Bob Saget is desperate for you to know that he is very, very filthy and edgy.
· Yet another reason to love the British tabloids: Colin Farrell tries to give the gift of penis to his 70-year-old co-star, but his advances are rebuffed.
· Back tits: the newest sensation sweeping the OC.
· Overpay for a "dream date" with Carmen Electra (does she magically reverse-age seven years if you win?), help cure prostate cancer.
· The Onion says it for us all.
· The documentary Punk: Attitude screens at the ArcLight, a cinematic study of the type of rebel music popularized by such renegades as Avril Levigne, Ashlee Simpson, and a variety of bands with numbers in their names. Sorry, we just collapsed under the weight of our own obnoxious sarcasm. Also punk (for real this time):
the premiere of Roddy Bogawa’s Joey Ramone tribute I Was Born, But . . . is at the Redcat, with Bogawa there in person for a discussion.
· These are all shows we'd be attending if not for the Dr. Phil/Pat O'Brien special airing tonight:
Brendon Benson at the Troubadour, Cake, Gomez and Robbers on High Street at Royce Hall; The Power Cords w/ Weapons of Mass Belief at Spaceland.
· Salon.com throws a party to celebrate their essay anthology, Because I Said So, at Dutton’s Beverly Hills. Watch out for those dot-commers, they're likely to burn money just for the cheap thrills. (This item was written in 1999.)
Comedy Central has just announced that the long-awaited (read: constantly delayed) return of Chappelle's Show is being put off indefinitely. Unfortunately, they haven't gotten around to updating their website yet (above), rendering their implicit challenge to keep holding your breath a potentially life-threatening proposition. And since no post about Dave Chappelle would be complete without a pot reference (obligatory Rick James sketch reference is in the headline), part of us really wants to believe that after he cashed that $50 million check, he's just been sitting in his living room with a bag of weed the size of a bean-bag chair, giggling uncontrollably every time his bosses at Comedy Central leave a message gingerly asking when he's going to get around to making some more shows. The other part of us, of course, just wants a bag of weed as big as a bean-bag chair.
God bless the publicity-whoring geniuses at GoldenPalace.com, who are collecting curiosities (a grilled cheese Virgin Mary, a Lincoln french fry, and a woman with low self-esteem) at a rate that would make an Elephant-Man-bones-era Michael Jackson obsessively bleach himself to rid his face of any envy-green. They've now added Britney Spears' "alleged" pregnancy test to their promotional menagerie for a mere five grand. In the event of her inevitable divorce from background-househusbanding partner Kevin Federline, we think the casino's got favorable odds to buy his half of the baby for less than $20K.
Indulge us for a moment, won't you, in this anniversary-inspired reverie. Longtime readers of this site might remember a time when Ugg boots were considered something of a "cutting edge" (if utterly retarded, to beat on a word we've been overusing lately) fashion, and our resulting obsession with trying to futilely beat back the fuzzy-footed fashion slaves who wore them. We'd like to remind ourselves that no matter how absurd a fad may be, eventually it will pass out of vogue and wind up amongst the hunting rifles and orange vests of a gun shop in The OC. Both figuratively and literally.
A reader supping on the Sony lot sent in this pic from the commissary, prompting some concern. We know that buying up MGM probably used up all the change in the sofa, but who knew that Sony is so strapped for cash that they're rationing plastic utensils? Maybe if they can figure out a way to monetize the trysts being conducted on their property, they can restore the free-knife-and-fork utopia that their employees have come to know and love. In the meantime, all Sony staffers should pitch in to ameloriate these lean times and deposit their unused Saltines in the special receptacles by the door. Crackers don't grow on trees, people.
We're not big on birthdays (they're just another reminder of how little we've accomplished in the last year, another irrevocable step towards a lonely grave, etc etc), but we thought we should note that exactly one year ago today, Defamer was yanked into the world, kicking, screaming, and covered in the dirty placenta of Hollywood like yet another retardedly-named celebrity baby. For those keeping score at home, that's 3,131 blog posts about agents dancing, Les Moonves' inexorable march towards the enslavement of all sentient beings, and meditations on celebrity genitalia of all flavors. Good times, good times.
· Is all of this American Idol hubbub news, or just a ratings stunt devised for maximum sweeps impact? We suppose that depends on whether or not anal is involved. [Variety]
· Sure, you heard it here yesterday, but the "facts" are now in: Revolution embarks in a "new direction" without partner Todd Garner, i.e., a direction that includes making somewhat less risibly awful movies. [Variety]
· Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett are in negotiations to star in F. Scott Fitzgerald story adaptation The Curious Case of Benjamin Button for director David Fincher. We can't wait for the carefully-orchestrated release of photos from Pitt and Blanchett's inevitable, sex-soaked African safari shortly before the movie's release. THR]
· Super-publicist Leslee Dart gets three new flacks on board for her "Dart Group" venture. We're assuming that "The Fuck Pat Kingsley Group" was already taken. [Variety]
· Finding that buying the rights to ER from NBC to be needlessly complicated, ABC picks up 13 more episodes of Grey's Anatomy. [THR]
· The Sarah Michelle Gellar space meaningfully signs up for Warner Independent Picture's adaptation of the book A Girl's Guide to Hunting and Fishing. [THR]
The last time we discussed Russell Crowe, the actor had revealed that he was part of a kidnapping plot to "culturally destabilize" America. Not content to tussle with Al Qaeda, the actor is now ready to destabilize the jawbones of some a local playwright, whose Crowe-baiting work has the actor's 30 Odd Foot of Panties in a Bunch:
We expected that the breakneck pace and nonstop, paparazzi-friendly osculation of the Tom Cruise/Katie Holmes Unconvincing Handsy Lovers World Tour might take its toll on a new couple, but we never expected that the unyielding spotlight would drive Cruise crazy and cause him to attempt to gnaw off his new publicity partner's face. Yes, these pics (supposedly snapped during a recent shopping trip in Hollywood) are disturbing, but so are many things about the relationship. Always remember: behind every publicist-orchestrated making-out photo op lies a pair of painfully chapped lips.
By now, you are probably at least somewhat familiar with the story: After determining that Paul "Taxi Driver" Schrader's version of The Exorcist was not sufficiently stocked with cheap scares, dirty undead children covered in fresh grave-dirt, and creepy, cursed videotapes, studio Morgan Creek decided to reshoot the entire movie under the auspices of director Renny "Cutthroat Island" Harlin, whose version promptly bombed at the box office. But in the feel-good Hollywood story of the year, Schrader's version will finally see the light of day, where it will be crushed in its limited-release run against the new Star Wars movie. This will allow Morgan Creek's execs to forget all of their bold talk about owning their fuck-up:
Not surpisingly, Brad Pitt and Angelina's Sexy African Beach Romp of Sexual Sex was not comprised entirely of chaste sand-castle construction and the babysitting of Cambodian adoptees. There was fucking involved. Oh, was there fucking! The kind of fucking that has guards scrambling for their machetes, ready to dispatch whatever animal was loudly mauling a guest at their resort. Star magazine gets the goods:
· Richard Gere: "I'm hard of hearing and I have a bad hip. We all have problems." True, and understandable enough...unless you're saying it to a fan in a wheelchair.
· Steven Colbert gets his own show on Comedy Central in the fall, thereby reducing the time he's available to be hilarious on The Daily Show. A bittersweet moment for us all.
· The Carolyn, The Ellen, The Portia: Feh offers these and other entries from the Encyclopedia of Lesbian Hairdos.
· It only took a few weeks, but it looks like the folks at Jimmy Kimmel will finally get around to picking on the Star Wars nerds across the street.
We hate to interrupt anyone's late afternoon naps, but we've heard a rumor that Revolution Studios partner Todd Garner (pictured at left with Ice Cube, in happier times) is "resigning" his post ("ironic quotation marks" "ours," covering our bases for when more "facts" are "available") and likely taking the obligatory producing deal/demotion. Wow, was XXX: State of the Union that big of a bomb? "Curious timing." In any case, we trust that Revolution will overcome this bump in the executive road and keep dependably churning out lowbrow classics like Little Black Book, The New Guy, and our personal favorite, Tomcats.
· OK, for real this time: Patton Oswalt will join Chris Hardwick, Greg Behrendt, and hosts Neil Campbell and Paul Rust for Comedy Death Ray at M Bar. Laughter-vomit virtually assured.
· Music-related activities for those who enjoy such things: David Garza at Largo ; Aimee Man at Amoeba; Bruce Springsteen at the Pantages; Damien Jurado at the Knitting Factory. (Defamer's Intern Y would like to note that it's hilarious to list Aimee Mann before The Boss. Indeed.)
· Delusions of a Mad Man, an exhibition of the work of artist Truman Marquez opens at the Infusion Gallery.
· And if you're not inclined to leave the house, completely unsubstantiated rumors are floating around that Paula Abdul is going to quit live on American Idol. Probably won't happen, but it's a way to justify another night of drooling in front of the tube, should "it's Tuesday" not be a sufficient excuse.
We know that it's something of a slow news day, but Drudge might want to hold back that siren for news that's slightly more explosive than ABC's lawyers decision that the Primetime Live AI special can go forward tomorrow night. What's he going to do if it's confirmed that Paul Abdul was sleeping with that contestant, put up a cartoon of a little penis in a fedora ejaculating all over the headline?
[Due to the flood of late entires to this accounting of Indio's temporary celebrity population this weekend, we're bumping this back to the top of the page.]
Not content with merely liveblogging the disaster that was Rosie O'Donnell's foray into "serious" acting, Riding the Bus With My Sister, the guys at TVGasm have assembled a montage of...how can we put his delicately...Rosie's most special moments from the movie. While we're sure that O'Donnell entered into the project with only the best of intentions (and perhaps for the opportunity to abscond with her truly stunning wardrobe), the on-screen result should have advocates for the differently-abled driving a short bus full of explosives through the gates of CBS Television City any day now. Les Moonves will be finding the remains of smoldering, mismatched sneakers around the lot for weeks, wondering if his network's cheap ratings stunt was worth all the pain it caused.
Just in case you're the type of flat-earther that still believes in (or still in any way cares about) the viablity of Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey's marriage, the Las Vegas Review Journal's Norm Clarke attempts to stick the proverbial fork in MTV's favorite couple:
