In roughly 10 years, it seems the only place you’ll be able to go and remain Justin Timberlake free will be your local museum.
No, literally, we know this caption is lame. We were won over by that adorable expression! Take 5 seconds of your day to outsmart us in the comments.
Unlike my culinarily challenged co-worker Michelle (she’s a Project Runway Person), I was not particularly pleased with the outcome of last night’s shocking first part of this season’s Top Chef finale. Despite not wanting to like Sam (I simply can’t trust a man who wears rings on his thumb), he was clearly the most talented chef on the show, and that’s what naming someone “Top Chef” should be about. The problem with last night’s outcome is that, like almost every other so-called “skill-based” reality show, it is indicative of a decion on the producers’ part to cynically manipulate the show into a competition of personality rather than skill.
Marcel – all of his mindblowing douchebaggery aside – didn’t even deserve to be in the Top Six, much less the Final Two, when you consider actual culinary ability. However, as his personality (Or personality disorder, as it were – I suspect Asperger’s Syndrome.) has consistently created conflicts with the other chefs, he makes for better television (read: ratings), and the producers CLEARLY wanted the finale to be a “Team Ilan vs. Team Marcel” battle that viewers could choose sides on.
But in reality, the finale should obviously have featured the less sensational showdown between buddies Ilan and Sam. Elia, while mostly likeable, was way out of her league. And Marcel!?! This is a person who called chunks of fruit “Watermelon Steaks” and whose masturbatory love of Iron Chef-esque “neo cuisine” has instilled in him a compulsive need to turn every dish into some kind of pretentious chemical experiment with foam on top.
We have a pretty horrible feeling that today will be dominated by lewd sexual innuendos inspired by the elderly. First, we were greeted by this article in UK’s The Sun featuring topless photos of this year’s Oscar nominees, courtesy of the tit-ectives at Defamer. It’s both NSFW as well as NSFSMWAETOBOW (not safe for straight men who are easily turned off by old women). Then, we were sent this video of original MILF Estelle Getty working out to Beyonce‘s “Check On It.” Somewhere, Dorothy Zbornak is in a silk pantsuit, raising a fist towards her terracotta’d roof yelling “Maaaa!”
(Sent to us by a Golden Girl loving friend at LOGO)
For those of you who still yearning for more Getty images, check out The Golden Girls doing Clueless, courtesy of Webjunk.tv, after the jump.
The folks at Collegehumor have finally figured out a way to help you get that damn Fergie song out of your head. Which Fergie song? Um, does it really matter?
Though she is an atrocious songwriter and barely a woman, Fergie knows how to do one thing very, very well: get a song stuck in your head. From ‘London Bridge’ to ‘Fergalious,’ her trash beats and imbecile lyrics get caught in your brain and bounce around for days – sometimes weeks – without relenting. Thankfully, we’ve devised a clever way to get that Fergie song out of conscious mind and into the cold, dark place where you keep the memories of that scouting trip back in ’94.
So do you need the key to enlightenment? Click here. Or you can live the rest of your life humming “How come every time you come around…” That’s your call, pal.
Being a famous A-list actress despite only having appeared in like two movies, Sienna Miller seemed pretty sure of her abilities to fit large amounts of things into her mouth when she laid down her grape-eating challenge on last night’s Tonight Show. However, even the most hard-working starlet is no match for the mouth-storing abilties of Jay Leno and his famously ginormous chin. Dude could get a whole grape TREE in his chin. His chin could feed acorns to a family of squirrels for an entire winter. They should sell his chin as a storage solution at The Container Store. Anyway, this is funny:
I’d like to take a moment to make a quick request to the producers of American Idol: I understand that a guy like Ian Bernado is a hilarious cariacture and therefore makes for good television, but in the future could you please restrain from billing him as “the ultimate New Yorker.” There’s still a little of that post-9/11 sympathy coming our way, we wouldn’t want anything to screw that up. Our friends at Gawker captured The Ultimate New Yorker video and posted it. That probably doesn’t help. But hey, I guess if you can’t laugh at yourself…
So what do you think? Best AI contestant since William Hung or what?
We’ve spent the last few months coming to the defense of Marcel, the dorky, high-haired culinary foam-frother who has been compared to everyone from Wolverine to an Oompa Loompa. Then, a few weeks ago, he let off some steam by freestyling some rap beats that made us want to crawl in a hole and die from shame. Still, we got over it, and it seemed the harassment from his fellow contestants hit its peak last week when Cliff wrastled him to the ground in some sort of military attempt to shave the guy’s head, and was thrown off the show.
Well comeuppance is a true revengeful whore, and yesterday was her debutante’s ball. In part 1 of the Top Chef finale, the four remaining chefs (Marcel, Sam, Ilan and a jerry-curled Ilia) were flown to Hawaii to compete for the remaining to showdown slots. And even after the “Cliff incident” (referring to last week’s episode and not the notorious Cheers episode where our favorite mailman has relations with Carla and then blacks out), Sam, Ilia and Ilan still seem out for Marcel’s blood. The challenge requires them to whip up some traditional Hawaiian dishes with a twist, which they do; though, leave it to Ilan to turn it Spanish.
Now, we have it on good authority that Ilan is actually a nice, funny guy in real life. But the editors of Top Chef don’t do him any favors in the “humongoid a-hole” department, and we can’t help but hate his arrogance. When the judges gather to deliberate, Ilan is overheard egging the once-adored-now-despised Ilia into accusing Marcel of cheating. We though we’d heard wrong: cheating? Did we miss something while deep frying a Lean Pocket over commercial break? Turns out we didn’t: these two were looking for any way possible to stay in the game, even if it came down to bogus cheating accusations. And hey? Remember when we used to love Sam and his quiet dignity? Well, his backstabbing sh*t-stirring went too far yesterday, and we scratched him off our list. We had no idea the judges were planning on doing the same.
It’s the Best Night Ever for Wednesday, January 24th! Shea Hess is here to walk you through the best moments of Wednesday night tv, including: American Idol, Armed and Famous, Beauty and the Geek, and [because Oprah’s genes are the basis of all human life] Oprah’s Roots!