« November 2004 | Main | January 2005 »
- Bennifer part dos goes where no Bennifer has gone before...Parenthood.
- Some of the most ridiculous things ever said about Ashlee Simpson.
- See what all the ruckus is about: Arcade Fire on tour.
- Oliver Stone says that "Europe" will appreciate Alexander. You know, the same way they appreciate bathing, and Hasselhoff.
Jeff Probst, proudly dipping his torch in the company fire.
I think we can all see why the 43 year old Probst likes Julie. As for what she sees in Jeff? Well, it doesn't really matter what place you finish in if you're dating the host. And those "carrying the votes back to the reunion show" action sequences he does? Hot.
While Chinese officials determine whether Pam's PETA ad is too racy for billboards, OandU attempts to determine what crazy angle provided this out of proportion image:
Is this hot? Because it's kind of scaring me.
- Pamela Anderson reveals Playboy Mansion non-secrets.
- I'm not sure, but I think Enrique Iglesias and Anna Kournakova might be married. I'm suspicious because of Anna's comment that "Enrique is great. Everything is awesome. We are married, " but what does that mean?! Why must these celebrities be so secretive and vague!
- Ted Leo live tracks! [from Bradley's Almanac, via ilb]
- Minnie Driver sees the ghost of Juan Valdez in Mexico.
- Brittany Murphy holds on to the relics of a long-forgotten Spears/Timberlake past.
Many folks have speculated on the abusive relationship of Amazing Race Contestants Jonathan and Victoria. Still, I don't think any of us could have expected to see what transpired last night. As they were running to the pitstop, Jonathan attempted to drop his pack with a local in order to run faster. Smartly, Victoria grabbed it, before it could be stolen. As they came closer to the Brandenburg Gate, she broke down. Carrying two huge packs, she faltered, despite a strong effort. She wailed in pain, and alternately, in fear.
Of what? Of Jonathan, screaming in her face, pushing her sideways, and being an all-around ass. Even the sedate Phil Keoghan was disturbed, seemingly holding back his rage while telling him to go talk to his wife. His wife who, however crazy looking she may be now, was Miss January 1996. How rich must Jonathan be for a playmate to a) marry him and b) stay with him despite his complete jackassetry? And if he's that rich, dear god, that means people are working for him. Help Victoria, and help these people!!
I nominate Jerry Bruckheimer for a Jonathan intervention. The man must be separated from all humans. And we, the audience, need some kind of memory erasing procedure. You can't just put any bastard on TV, and expect it to be tolerated. Really, he's so terrible that he actually managed to distract me from commenting on the ridiculously racist, moronic and insensitive Kendra. Who is awful.
[ed. note: update! jonathan says he doesn't abuse victoria! our judgement of not cool zeus remains!]
I'm on the phone all day. Talking to people I don't know in the most genial manner I can muster. Every once in awhile these people become meeting-setting phone friends. And every once in awhile, those folks are upped to instant messenging friends. It's the rare person, however, who becomes an actual , corporeal friend. Something beyond this vague telecom personality. And I'm not sure why this is.
Maybe it's because without the context of work, you have less in common than you thought. Or that you need the distance to be comfortable and at your witty best. Or that we somehow still judge our friends on looks. Or even, and this sounds crazy, that we've just decided we don't need anymore real friends. We're chock full o' friends, and there's a waiting list, bucko.
So to all the people I talk to each day, hello. You're great (except for a few of you). Yes, let's get drinks. Sure, let's talk about what we really want to do, and how ridiculous this industry is. But if we're not going to be friends, let's not worry about it. And let's certainly not allow it to affect our phone friendship. Because, good lord, setting meetings is boring.
Did we not learn anything from Mo Vaughn ?
I don't feel good about this one. Please, someone, prove me wrong.
[part 1]
Everyone is looking for love in the holiday season, and celebrities are no exception. In just the past few days:
Ellen DeGeneres and Portia De Rossi leave girlfriends to bask in each other's television success!
Scarlett Johannson loses my respect by being seen with famous Yankee dandy, Derek Jeter!
Renee Zellwegger and Jack White argue over black hair dye, break up!
Totally legal Lindsay Lohan finally hooks up with Colin Farrell!
I believe this all went down in some kind of cosmic celebrity office party equivalent...a night full of booze, mistletoe, rumors, innuendo, and ill-advised romance. Oh wait. That's pretty much, every night, isn't it?
- Olsen twins finally become real self-righteous petition-signing college students, take brave anti-sweatshop stance.
- Big Boi and Dre finish up HBO movie, prepare for collaborative soundtrack releases and further acting opportunities.
- German talk show Wetten Dass proves dangerous, mildly disturbing for pop stars.
- OMG. New Year's Eve plans, set.
- Britain's Royal Society for the Prevention of Accidents prepares holiday party guidelines. Among them, the avoidance of "flaming Christmas puddings." Forget Homeland Security, this is the agency Americans need.
