We turn our backs on Lisa Marie Presley for one second and what does she do? Starts selling French fries out of the back of a van.
Last Friday, French gossip magazine Closer published a series of photographs of Kate Middleton sunbathing topless. Yesterday morning, police in Paris raided the publication's offices of Closer magazine, searching the building and inspecting the staff's computers in an attempt to find the name of the photographer. And today, the photos were printed, for the fourth and fifth time, respectively, in Sweden and Denmark.
French magazine Closer just published some photos of Kate Middleton sunbathing topless while "staying at the French chateau of the Queen's nephew, Lord Linley — making it now two royal nudie picture scandals in three weeks. Click though for some NSFW scans.
A couple in Devon, England found something way more (or, arguably, slightly less) valuable than a Kennedy half-dollar while poking around under their living room sofa recently: a 33-ft deep medieval well, filled with old peasant weapons and, most likely, magic and a passageway to times unknown.
Meet Alex Pelling and Lisa Gant.
The Office of National Statistics for England and Wales has just released the list of the most popular baby names of 2011. The top name for boys was Harry, followed by Oliver, then Jack, but all three of these names might as well have just been MY BALLS, because English people suck at naming kids.
Though our grandparents are often referred to as "The Greatest Generation," we, too, will make our mark in history as the generation that endured merciless war without end. First, the War on Drugs; then, the War on Terror; and now—everyone, please load your weapons—the War on Bees.
While we've all been wringing our hands while trapped over here on this "side of the pond" (Atlantic Ocean) worrying about if and when the second dip of the Double Dip Recession With No Fucking Sprinkles™ would arrive, that clever old recession was slinking "across the pond" (Atlantic Ocean) to rear its ugly, stupid, money-sucking head in "Jolly" (not so jolly now I bet, ha) Olde Englande. From the NYT:
He's our first president, he could not tell a lie, and he's Britain's greatest ever foe. Yes, George Washington has had this dubious honor bestowed on him by the National Army Museum. Washington beat out such notable adversaries as Michael Collins and Napoleon Bonaparte. I guess now would be the appropriate time to start a "U.S.A.!" chant?
Who hasn't, at one point or another, wished that he or she could travel aboard the Titanic? I mean, the whole affair ended nastily with some 1,500 people killed, but what luxury before that. Now a lucky group of people, some of whom are descendants of Titanic passengers, have embarked on a cruise that will retrace the path of the doomed ocean liner.
Most of the attacks carried out by the hacktivist collective Anonymous target governments or corporations in the name of freedom of information. But an anti-abortion hacker claiming links to Anonymous has been arrested after hacking Britain's largest abortion provider, with the intention of leaking patient information. Will Anonymous condemn him?
Kremlin-backed talk show host Julian Assange is back in court in England today, in what will be the final, hopefully failed, attempt to appeal his extradition to Sweden to face rape and molestation allegations. Assange's legal troubles—and the fact that Wikileaks' submission system still isn't fixed after more than a year—haven't kept him from guest-starring in an upcoming episode of The Simpsons. This really validates our decision to stop watching the The Simpsons after Maude Flanders died.
It took me a while to realize this, but people don't listen to advice. I'm not sure why. My sense is that we tend to learn life lessons through experience, and the warnings of others, even those that we solicit, have trouble penetrating through to the part of brain where "fire is hot" and "there is no such thing as a 'break' in a relationship" were imprinted whenever you passed by those particular painful milestones. Case in point: I'm going to give you a bit of advice—not "don't touch the fire"-important advice, but advice that will make your life better—and you're not going to listen to it. You're going to think you know better. You're going to want, explicitly or subconsciously, to learn this lesson yourself, and learn it you will, though by then it will be too late.
Now this is strange. What compels a Speaker of the House, as he's (supposed to be) trying to reach a deal to preserve various expiring government goodies before Congress recesses for the year, to move a resolution that would "commission the placement of a bust of former British Prime Minister Winston Churchill in the Capitol"? Here he is, talking about it, softly crying, of course, but not in full Boehner Bawl mode. Winston Churchill, he was one helluva a guy. Anyway, this is all about race.
Long, long ago (the 1970s), in a faraway and strange land (the 1970s), there existed a tiny anarchistic tribe called the Sex Pistols. Though noted mainly for their music, they also dabbled in the visual arts—decorating their London cave dwellings with whimsical pictures called "graffiti."
Upon realizing the pedogogical potential of Russell Brand's dirty prank calls, the headmaster of a hoity-toity north London school incorporated them into an English exam that was then administered to 14-year-old students. Now he doesn't understand why are some of the kids' parents are so upset about this.
