Category Archives: Celebrities
Yeah, I learned about two hours ago that Hugh Jackman is hosting. You see how much I pay attention these days (I don’t even remember if I watched the Oscars last year), and it’s a huge turn from my olden days when I was obsessed and thought I knew everything about the movies. Which I didn’t.
I adore the opening number. The cheap sets, learning Anne Hathaway can sing. Hugh’s amazing voice and wicked awesome dancing. Best opening in ages.
Amy Adams. There is nothing to say. Just… Wow. Always wow.
Whoopi came in her fanciest housecoat.
I’m in love with everyone’s shiny baubles tonight. Except Angelina’s. I don’t even find the quirk in her baubles that would give them some kind of Hollywoodsy redeeming quality.
It was super-tacky of the cameras to pan to Brangelina while Jennifer Aniston was onstage.
I adore the winner of Animated Short who kept saying “Sank you” and then ended with “Domo Arigato Mr. Roboto.” Hahahahahaha. Admit it. It’s all any of us wanted to hear him say, right?
Vampires represent! Edward Cullen in the house! Okay, um… I thought the facial expressions were just part of the way he played Edward, and no. That somebody-farted look is apparently just part of the Robert Pattinson persona. I love it.
I love that they have Twilight scenes in one of their big movie montages. And in abundance! Cullen Power!
So… Jessica Biel’s dress. Wedding reception table cloth gets bustled around the boobs.
I may need a Christopher Walken obsession. I’ve leaned toward one a couple of times, but I’m afraid of it, because he scares me a little.
So happy that Heath Ledger won the Oscar. Truly he was one of my generation’s greatest actors. Imagine what the legend would have been if he had lived.
Wow, that Action montage was full of movies we’ve actually seen! And hahaha, I love Will Smith’s line about action movies actually having fans. True! I’m a dumb action lover myself.
I love the Oscar stage, all blinged out. So… shiny.
Michael Giacchino! At the Oscars! Conducting! It’s an ALIAS obsessee’s heaven is what it is. And okay, from the little I’ve heard of the scores, just these little bits–Slumdog Millionaire should win. The two or three bars of Slumdog Millionaire should win. Wow at Alicia Keys. And WHAT? The guy wins an Oscar for best original score and heads back onstage to sing his original song! Now who is that yummy-voiced man onstage after him? I’m so in love with his voice. It’s obviously not Peter Gabriel. Okay, I can’t find it online. Please tell me who that was, because I need more of his voice. I love it almost as much as I love James Marsters’s voice. And considering my current obsession with him (you haven’t been as privy to it as you have to my other obsessions, because I haven’t the time to blog it), that’s saying something.
Reese Witherspoon. This is the actress who will play me if they ever make a movie of my life. Not because I look remotely like her, other than the short and blonde thing. But because she’s wonderful, and I will be remembered as wonderful. Or a ginormous pain in the butt. Whatevs. However she chooses to play me is fine–she’s one of the best, so I trust her judgment. Anyway, she looks awesome. Always.
I love the director of Slumdog Millionaire who jumped up and down onstage.
Finally! Kate Winslet wins the Oscar. I didn’t see any of these movies, but in light of all her other work, I’d wager she deserves it.
Slumdog Millionaire is the big winner of the night. Good for them. Didn’t see it, but I actually want to, and that’s fairly rare for me and Oscar nominees these days.
Hugh Jackman: Best host in years. Well done.
One of the best musicians in the world has died. LeRoi Moore, whose bari sax solos have made me tingle with joy at Dave Matthews Band concerts, died unexpectedly today. He had an ATV accident about six weeks ago and was recovering at home.
I’m just in shock. So sad. What a great talent.
R.I.P., LeRoi. You will always rock my sox.
Spinning on the wind
The leaf fell from the limb
But everyday should be a good day to die
Oh all fall down
It won’t be too long now
Every fire dies
I find it hard to explain how I got here
I think I can I think I can
Then again I will falter
Dream little darling dream
Spinning on the wind
The leaf fell from the limb
-from “You Never Know”
I was driving down the road listening to Hannity (by default — the other choice in his time slot here is Dr. Laura), and he said they had breaking news. He mentioned Heath Ledger, and then started talking to his crew about what movies Ledger has been in… and before he even said, “Well, he’s been found dead,” I had this sense of dread. I don’t know why, I just thought that breaking news about a young star who isn’t typically seen as a train wreck had to be bad. I still gasped when Hannity said it, though.
So so sad. He has a two-year-old daughter. Even if he didn’t, it would be tragic. But that just makes it worse.
Haha, I just saw that Carrie’s music publishing company is called Carrie-Okie Music. That’s funny right there.
So the girl from High School Musical, Vanessa Hudgins or somesuch, was on the Tyra Banks show (goodness, no, I didn’t see it, they were talking about it on “The Soup”). Tyra asked her about the girls who have been through so many drug rehabs that they think Promises is that nice little timeshare they have in Malibu. And of course, she said she thinks it’s stupid for them to get in trouble like that all the time, but then again, she’s “a private person.”
Of course, this is during the same week in which her own naked photos were the number one story in the news (forget that a nutjob who likes to say “Death to America” for fun is going to be allowed to come here — sounds awful familiar, I wonder if he’ll call our president “Satan” — and not only that, is going to be treated like a diplomat). Did I digress? Anyway, I thought it was highly amusing that miss “private person” is splayed about the internet.
Yes, yes, I know I have a speck or two in my own eye. But I’ve never been photographed nude.
Mike Modano actually got hitched (to Willa Ford) this weekend! Not that I didn’t think he’d do it… it’s just I figured it would be another loooooong engagement.
Darryl Sydor and Brett Hull were co-best men. Awww.
NASA’s weather numbers were adjusted downward when reverse-engineering the numbers pointed out a major flaw in the calculations: A Y2K error! It turns out Y2K caused huge damages (in the form of private jets and ugly cars) after all. 1934 is now the hottest year on record (not 1998), and 2001 dropped from number 8 to out of the top ten.
I wonder how ticked off the celebrities, politicians, and other fierce global warming believers who took out payday loans or spent lots of money to pay for their global-warming-combating private jets and Priuses are gonna take the news. (Celebrities and politicians will say that they were hoodwinked by NASA, which is a government agency, and therefore the change in numbers is all Bush’s fault, because he runs the government. And then they’ll say it’s still real.)
I’ve been wanting to post about the whole Michael-Vick-is-(allegedly)-evil-and-abuses- dogs thing ever since I heard the story (profanity in link). No, wait. I don’t want to leave out his partners. Filthy, putrid scum. However, as my head still explodes in rage over the whole thing (and rage is bad, peeps, rage is bad), I don’t know how coherent I can be about it.
Ok, I’ll keep it brief, because if I go into detail, I’ll start off my day in a most unpleasant mood.
You have to have pure evil in your heart to treat animals like that — human or furry (or furry human). First off, forcing dogs to fight for sport? So do you think their parents ever took them into poorly-lit, dingy arenas, put them in there with another kid, and told them that if they didn’t beat the crap out of the other kid and win the fight, they’d be in big trouble? And after they lost their fights, did their parents electrocute them, slam them into the ground so hard they died, drown them, hang them? Or did they do that to them for making poor grades (I mean, how could such right idiots get good ones)? But then, Vick and his moron friends don’t actually see these dogs as actual living creatures, do they? They’re just sport, playthings, things for people with minimal brain capacity to torture and gamble on. Evil, rotten [self-edit]s.
Hmm, I wonder why pit bulls have such a bad rep for fighting? Yeah, I know it’s in the genes, but they’re dogs first, and when you’re not forcing them to do it and give them exercise and a little bit of (non-torturous) discipline, they’re sweet, loyal dogs. The fight can be trained out, and so can the prey instinct. And the fight is only there in the first place because other dog-abusing freaks started breeding them to fight.
And don’t even get me started on his purchase of this land. Bad Newz Kennels? What’s in a name, right?
I wonder what Vic’s business cards say. “Michael Vick. Quarterback. Abusive Moron who Tortures Dogs.”
Ok, I’m totally not into soccer, or metric football as we call it around here (I watch it sometimes during the Olympics, but that’s about it — if I want a back and forth sport? It’s hockey, baby.). And my interest in most celebrities went away when I got tired of paying for my magazine subscriptions where all I got to do was listen to one of the rags go on about how evil we conservatives are and the other one go on about how to lose weight amazingly quickly through gastric bypass!
That said, I have to admit that I’m a teensy bit interested in “Posh and Becks”, and don’t you know, I hate calling them that (can’t we just call them the Beckhams so they don’t sound like a mixture of grains you might eat for breakfast? “What’d you have for breakfast?” “Oh, Posh and Becks with strawberries and milk. You?”). I’m not so much interested in the Becks part, actually, though I did catch his little speech to the L.A. fans in which he “accidentally” called soccer “football” and apologized and it was cute and all that.
But I do kinda like watching the celebrity reality shows. Anyway, Frank and I accidentally had E! on in the background the other day because we had watched The Soup, and they ran an interview (or two or four) with Victoria Beckham (see? much more dignified), and she came off very delightful and pretty funny (it was probably the accent, because hilarity of anything is magnified tenfold when said with a British accent, no?). Plus she said in one interview that she doesn’t see them ever leaving America, which makes me like her even more. Not one of those who is just here to work but hates us and all that. I’m not really into the whole fashionista aspect, but man, Posh does know how to make a pair of sunglasses look hot. Ok, maybe that makes me like her less, because I never look good in shades.
And she has a reality show about their move to America that started this week, I believe. Has anyone seen it? I’m a little interested and may put it on the DVR just to see. Y’all tell me if it’s good.
I can’t believe I almost forgot about this.
She’s Pauler Abdul, and she’s an entertainer. Boy, is she ever! I’m so disappointed to realize this is only a half hour show. Kathy Griffin gets an hour, and the treasure trove that is Pauler gets only half that time?
Yay! The chihuahuas! There’s Tulip! Start trippin, Pauler! She wants us to enjoy the ride. So come along… Straight up… Hey Pauler.
Ok, so in this episode, Pauler is getting ready for the Grammys, and she has a QVC show. Whoa, dawgs. Whoa. And they’re giving her $1
MM in diamonds to wear for the Grammys. It’s Pauler! Y’all know she’s crazy, right? Oh my goodness, she just put major diamond necklace on her dog, and the dog tried to eat a 1940s diamond ring. This woman is a celebrity, y’all. Which means we celebrate her. You know, it’s too hard to snark her. She like snarks herself just by being Pole-er.
And yes. I figured out it’s definitely the Ruffles, thank you Ceri. I had a few this morning to confirm, and I’ve got nerve pain in both legs and both buttocks. Not a fun feeling. I had a few seizures right after I ate about ten chips, so I stopped eating them immediately, and now I’ve got the nerve pain… so there you go.
Paula is having her housekeeper scoop poop that is way too big for her dogs to have left. Does she poo on the lawn when no one is looking? I’m not accusing, I’m just saying that maybe we should be having this conversation as a nation.
Pauler is rilly rilly mad about the Bratz movie people. They want to see the wardrobe designs she did for the movie, like, today, and she’s gotta get ready for the Grammys.
LOL. “The last time I had a hit record, Bill and Hillary were having sex.” Straight at camera: “That’s… a long time… ago.” True dat.
No, Pauler, that Grammy dress. In all crepe, maybe. A giant sequined bow under your chest? Um, no. Other than the sequininess of that bow, it would have been pretty… for a prison jumpsuit. I can’t believe they weren’t ugly to you. The hair is pretty, though. The collagen… well, it’s Pauler. I LOVE THAT SHE HAS A LITTLE YIP-YAP DOG NAMED CHOMPS!
Yeah, you know if you miss QVC, the QVC mob comes after you, and you’re out of showbizness forEVAH! Suzanne Somers will Thighmaster you TO THE PAIN! YOU FIND PAULER NOW!
Pauler is walking downtown in her Valentino gown, because she can’t find her limo, and people are shouting to her. “Hey, Pauler! You’re a legend!” (That means you’re old, btw. Don’t ever call me a legend. Just continue to call me lovely and talented.) “Hey, Pauler, you’re forever my girl!” Ok, I was in the seventh or eighth grade when that one came out. If that won’t make a girl feel ooooold… She’s so happy about it and Trippin’ on Tulips and her high-heels.
She gets in the limo and is going on about how happy the people on the red carpet were with her dress. “Except for Joan Rivers. Melissa said, great dress, and Joan just went like this.” (Crinkles her face.) “I wanted to say to Joan, ‘What doctor is your face wearing?’” Says the Queen of Collagen! She is CRACKING HERSELF UP WITH THAT LINE. And I’m cracking up a little, too. It’s pretty good. Frank agrees. Go, Pauler.
And now Pauler’s dumb assistants have brought her tight pants and HIGH-HEELED BOOTS to wear on a flight instead of sweatpants and tennisshoes. Normally I’d say, “DIVA!” but I totally agree. I need comfort on a plane. Warmth, because I freaking FREEEEZE on airplanes, and comfy shoes. She barely makes her flight, because they’re digging around in suitcases looking for something for her to wear so she can actually sleep on the flight. Poor Pauler. The tight jeans and high-heeled boots it is. At least she has a sweater.
So at QVC, she’s immediately making fun of Simon Cowell, who isn’t there.
I love how they play the music of dooooooom when she has problems with the jewelry line that QVC wants to sell with her name on them that don’t match the samples she approved at all. She’s like, “That is NOT what you sent me, you sent me fabulous stuff,” and they’re like, “Well, I think the customers won’t care, they just buy anything we put on a necklace holder anyway, so let’s DO THIS THANG!”
Y’all know what? I’ve never even heard that Justin Timberlake song about bringing Sexy Back.
Ok, so now Pauler is reminding the QVC folks that last time she was on, she had the AI press machine behind her, and now the season is over, so they should just not expect anything. And a lady calls in to tell Pauler that her whole family died but Pauler has lifted up her spirits. Ooookay. So Pauler’s line sells out, and Pauler is happy to help people get over their dead people. Everybody’s all better now.
Aren’t you all better now? I know I am.
ro-ku 4 u:
ro needz help
off deep end
where r friends
2 help her thru
win she duz crazy
stuff lik this
i think she try 2 dress up vivi
lik soldier 2
BusHitler’s ill-egal war
the white camo ok
n bullets (no guns – they bad)
but do r soldiers wear head scarves
oh i forgot
we liv n society run by evil Christian Bush
n radical Christianity just as bad
n o-press u lik
what was i thinkin