The folks at Pitchfork posted a brand new Bloc Party video off their upcoming album A Weekend In The City, so we just had to share it. It’s called “I Still Remember” and coincidentally, it’s a video for one of the songs we mentioned earlier. Check it out.
Great news, obese people! It’s that time of year again. NBC’s hit show The Biggest Loser is hosting open casting calls in a city near you (well, if you live in the South or Midwest)! According to the official press release, desirable candidates “should be ready to make their weight-loss dreams a reality, in addition to possessing personality, desire and a competitive edge to vie for this chance of a lifetime”. Candidates should also be ready to endure ridicule, patronizing “pep talks” from brainlessly beautiful “TV personalities”, hacky “trying to save my career” jokes from host Caroline Rhea, and have their lifelong struggles with weight reduced to a collection of insultingly stereotypical caricatures that make the vast range of their fears and frustrations simple enough to be easily understood by the people who watch this kind of crap (and often make judgements about them, despite being exactly like them). Since everyone in the Blue States are already beautiful, casting calls are being condescendingly held in Wisconsin, Tennessee, Viginia, Iowa, Texas and Ohio only. Oh, and Los Angeles – this country’s biggest urban fat magnet. Best of luck!
I sat here for about 10 minutes trying to think of something clever (yet tasteful) to say about this picture of Britney Spears, but finally just came to the realization that you people will caption it infinitely better than I could.
Because you’re not sick of Borat. Because you still haven’t heard enough about how backwards Kazakhstan is. Because the idea of horses teaching kindergarten classes kinda makes you laugh. And because you’re looking for something to do at work that isn’t actually “work.” That’s why you’re gonna play Borat Wars. And that’s why you’re going to feel the need to say “Wa Wa Wee Wa” shortly after completion.
I’m glad we got that all squared away. Now click here to play. It’s… wait for it… wait for it… Niiiiiice! Get it? Yeah.
Looks like Justin Timberlake is moving on from acne scars to bombshell Scarlett Johansson. The flirtation between SexyBack and SexyRack kicked off when Scarlett was cast to star in an upcoming Timberlake music video (without Diaz’s consent), and ever since, thetwo have been seen eye-locking all around town. To which we have to say…
That lucky bitch! First of all, present day Justin Timberlake makes present day Josh Hartnett look like an absolute a-tool box (note the new glasses and pre-pube moustache, and you’ll quickly agree.) But more importantly, being the woman who makes Cameron Diaz feel like crap has got to be the absolute best feeling on the planet.
But Cameron need not worry: We hear Edward James Olmos is barely single again and pock-markier than ever! (Get it? Because she has bad skin. See, because it’s the only thing we can really pick on her for physically. Please, let us have it.)
- The Late Greats just want to be loved. That explains why you can download a full Arcade Fire concert over there today.
- Love Controls posted the two incredible “gay-themed” tracks from the upcoming Bloc Party album. Give them a listen, and ponder why anybody was surprised that a man named Kele turned out to be gay.
- You Aint No Picasso has a radio rip of the new Kaiser Chiefs single, “Ruby”. I predict a hit.
- Get excited about the new Of Montreal album by heading over to My Old Kentucky Blog and downloading a new track.
- And finally, Untitled wants you to remember how awesome Kill Bill is. That’s why they have Nancy Sinatra’s “Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)” today. But c’mon; who needs a reminder?
If you didn’t watch my Best Night Ever last night (and shame on you if you didn’t), you would have missed this priceless moment from the People’s Choice Awards when an intrepid young red carpet reporter asks zany guy Robin Williams (who always has Film Critics in stitches), with a straight face, whether or not “he felt any pressure to be funny all the time”. We thought this quetion would be best answered by the following montage of Robin Williams’ behavior at that very same event:
Tight-black-shirted American Idol judge Simon Cowell added insult to injury when he went on record claiming that Bob Dylan’s music is “boring”, then explained how a non-commercial failure like Dylan would destroy all the artistic and popular credibility of his culturally-vital show:
“Do I prefer Kelly Clarkson’s music to Bob Dylan’s? Yes. I’ve never bought a Dylan record. A singing poet? It just bores me to tears,”
“I’ve got to tell you, if I had 10 Dylans in the final of ‘American Idol,’ we would not be getting 30 million viewers a week. I don’t believe the Bob Dylans of this world would make ‘American Idol’ a better show.”
According to Cowell, the world would aslo be better off if every restaurant were an Applebees, all clothing came from Wal-Mart, movies were only directed by Michael Bay, everyone drove a Chevy SUV, President Bush was crowned Eternal Intergalactic Leader, and the planet was inhabited only by “totally macho” metrosexual meathead dudes with catty British accents and a penchant for Kenneth Cole’s leprechaun shoes.
We never had a problem with Barbara Walters, but frankly, this whole Rosie v. Trump fiasco is starting to give us the B.B.Walty-Skeevy-Jeevies. We thought that if we ignored Trump’s highly juvenile, es-aitch-eye-tee stirring letter from yesterday, perhaps this entire mess would be behind us… but it looks like we will be hearing about this feud until the day James Brown‘s corpse is buried, i.e. 3 milleniums from now. Enjoy Two-Face McGinty‘s response from this morning’s episode of The View.
Dear Gossip Loving Community At Large,
As you very well know, for the past couple of months ex-pop starlet and divorcee Britney Spears has been out on the L.A. club scene, spotted drinking until falling asleep, stripping, vahzhing it up with Paris Hilton, and namely, looking like the reanimated corpse of Phyllis Diller (assuming Diller has passed away, which we will shortly be informed by hate mail that she is, in fact, still alive). The entire time, people have been asking “What about her kids? Where are the babies? Think about the babies!” The babies referring to her two baby sons, 16-month-old Sean Preston and 4-month-old Jayden James. Just last week, my mother in Miami announced, out of thin air, loudly, and in our bagel shop, “Britney’s babies should be taken away from her! She is not fit to be a mother!” while chewing up an onion bialy with cheese and hand feeding me the regurgitated mush.
At first, I agreed. What kind of a mother leaves her children to go bang yet another diseased looking (albeit hot) dirtbag? But slowly, the puzzle pieces started to come together. See, it seems pretty obvious that Britney Spears is a borderline Re-Re Ricardo. Judging by her penchant for platform sandals while carrying her newborn, or driving with her baby on her lap, or anything uttered by her on Chaotic, Britney can probably barely wipe herself, much less the Juicy Couture cashmere-swathed tush of her offspring. Which leads me to this conclusion: