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Another nubile hottie inherits fortune and fame. The catch? This one's "mature and serious". And you know what? I think that sounds like a refreshing change.
That is, until her photo reveals the "health problems" of Mischa and MK combined:
It's an epidemic! Somebody feed the rich girls of America!
Halle Berry recommends single women frequent their nearest sex shop, specifically, Hollywood's "Pleasure Chest". Quoth Miss Berry (if you're nasty): "Make regular visits to the Pleasure Chest!" and "You can't forget your sexuality - that's not good. You can still embrace your body by going to the gym or going to the Pleasure Chest!"
The questions are as follows: How much did the Pleasure Chest (requisite "!") pay her for this ringing endorsement? Has Halle enjoyed breaking down doors so much that she's decided to turn her talents to the underserved naughty girls of the world? And finally, is this revelation simply a ploy to get people to her oversexed and underinteresting new film Catwoman?
[ed. note: completely fabricated answer key- enough, maybe, yes.]
"That thing was a total ugh. I was not in love at all." (on her brief time with Costanza).
"I plan to meet his daughter. I love little ones. I think the situation is good." (on her hubby-to-be's current and future children, and their angry embittered mother)
"I'm not pregnant. (But) I definitely want to have some kids. I see myself with four or five. We're starting with a dog. I just got a Maltese named Lacy." (on the rumors of her pregnancy, and, of course, her love of "little ones")
With perhaps the final bit of proof that yes, things can be too kitschy, Alf is set to host a TV Land talk show special this July 7th. The Melmac-ian will have such exciting guests as Dennis Franz, Drew Carey, Joan Rivers and The Fonz.
If the special goes well, the Alf Show could be developed into a series, and frankly, I can't decide whether to implore everyone I know to tune in or throw their televisions away. I think a lot of it hinges on whether Alf plans to reprise his classic impression of Tom Cruise in "Risky Business." Cat-eating aliens and Bob Seger, so very best.
Antonio Banderas (ever the worrier) is concerned that Justin Timberlake will be "crucified" when people see him in the thriller Edison next year. If by crucified he means "adored by man and woman alike", or "getting laid by a-list actresses despite his goofy insistence on beat-boxing", then yes, I suspect just that. Oh! How I pity him.
Banderas further remarks: "I think this should be a totally open profession to anybody who wants to try." Umm, Antonio. Technically it is. But there's this wacky system that funnels the Timberlakes of the world, however talented or untalented they may be, into Hollywood blockbusters, and the innocent young Iowans just looking for a break, into porn.
Despite asking other agencies to cut costs, Schwarzenegger raises salaries for his official staff. This can only mean one thing. He's groped them all.
In further California travesties, state consumer rights activists insist on continuing the needless action-movie references, claiming that the Governor has "pumped up" his costs. How long before we see an end to these jokes? I say approximately 500 years. Give or take. Perhaps not until we divide from the rest of the American landmass and float out to sea.
Is it bad that I wish Ms. Rowling was poor again, so she'd speed up the writing? Or that I think seven books is not nearly enough, and that we are all owed "Harry Potter: The College Years"? Followed by the New Class, wherein Neville becomes Dumbledore's wacky assistant.
Page 3 lists the greatest sports moments in film. Some good stuff, but I feel like they might have been trying too hard to stray from the classics. No Field of Dreams until the honorable mention? No "Who's the wild man now?" or "I don't want your life?" Not even a little "You're killing me Smalls?" And let's be honest: "Searching for Bobby Fisher" is not a sports movie. Unless you've got Spartan Spirit.
-Woody Allen furious! This sounds about as likely to me as "Woody Allen silent!", "Woody Allen mercifully retiring!" or "Woody Allen dating age-appropriately!" Agitated, bothered, inconvenienced, obsessive? Yes. Furious? No way.
-Hmmm...they're not replacing Perry Farrell, but they're writing songs and recording with a new singer. I may not be a music industry insider, but that sounds like replacing to me.
- Finally, I'll admit it, I have been watching "Who Wants to Marry my Dad." Let me let you in on a little secret. NBC will promote all the lie-detecting intrigue, and the stomach-turning ickiness of pimping one's father out to desperate plastic surgery enhanced women, but the real brilliance of this show that they rarely entice you with is the hilariously on the nose music that accompanies these events. Really sappy, poorly written crap, featuring a studio singer vocalizing the exact moments as they are unfolding. For example, when a woman is sent home, something to the effect of "I am so sad, I wanted to meet my love on television, now I am here all alone with a suitcase because of the guy's bitchy daughters" is sung.
Just like the kitty in the posters.
[ed. note: yes, i know, my paint skills are lacking.]
