You know, as much crap as The Rolling Stones get for being 3,000 year old mystical mummified corpses, we have to hand it to them: They still know the definition of rock star. (Sideward glancing at you, Paul McCartney.) So much so that Keith Richards is finally giving up drugs… not because they’ve effed him up so much that he’s falling out of trees left and right, but rather because these newfangled drugs on the market aren’t as strong or good as they used to be. That’s right: The quality is not up to brain-liquifying par. In fact, after his famous coconut-plucking tumble a few months ago, Richards admits to asking for extra morphine in the hospital, as his dosage wasn’t kicking in.
Well, uh-hellooooo. Making out with Keith Richards would be like licking an 8 1/2 by 11 tab of LSD. The guy is seriously walking in his own matrix of questionable reality, that reality being a living haunted house decoration. But giving up drugs entirely? We scoff. You’re in the Rolling-f**king-Stones, Keithy. Aaaaand you’ve got a hilariously drug-and-accident-addled barbituary to live up to. Now get to it!
In the interest of full disclosure, I should begin by saying I was once a big Weird Al fan. When I was 12 I listened to his albums, loved UHF and memorized every word to every Weird Al song. Even his original material. Of course, as I grew up and began listening to “real” music, I was embarrassed by my Weird Al past. As recently as a year ago -neigh- a month ago, any mention of owning Off The Deep End would’ve humiliated me and totally cancelled out the fact that I also own the Arcade Fire’s Funeral. Al was nothing more than a reminder of my awkward pre-teen years, just like my old retainer and Hypercolor T-shirts. But then something happened…
On Monday, fellow BWE.tv writer/hipster (have you seen the guy?) Alex declared that Al was in the midst of a late-career renaissance a la Bob Dylan. That was the first time I realized maybe it was okay, cool even, to dig Al. Then yesterday the brand new music blog Idolator posted a video for Al’s polka-medley, “Polkarama”. I would’ve never thought I’d see Al on a site trying to build up some cred, but there he was. Then today, Stereogum followed suit.
So now I have to ask the question: Has liking Weird Al Yankovic actually become… COOL??? Watch the video for “Polkarama” by clicking below, then give me an answer. Because I need to know whether or not it’s time to dust off my copy of Dare To Be Stupid.
How do you build buzz for an upcoming movie that is already being hailed as the funniest of the year? Give away 10,000 tickets for an “exclusive” screening of said movie. This is the tactic being used by Black Carpet Screenings, marketers for the upcoming Sasha Baron Cohen masterpiece Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan, aka “The Borat Movie”. The idea: Invite all 95,369 of your friends to 25 “exclusive” screenings around the globe, armed with only a printout of their Myspace page as a ticket. Throw into the mix that Borat himself will be at one of the screenings. The result? We’re guessing Natural Born Killers-style violence, eyeballs plucked, backs-of-knees kicked, full-blown chaos. Have the police been alerted? We’re not even kidding. We once drop-kicked someone in the face to see an “exclusive” Goo Goo Dolls concert at the Bubba Gump Shrimp Company. (Totes worth it.) Tonight’s worldwide screening is going to be complete madness!
So, you can either risk getting accidentally taken from behind by some loolee loolee during tonight’s screening, or wait like a lady until November, when you can catch an 11am matinee with the other members of your Mah Jong club.
X17Online just “pulled a TMZ” on usually cool cucumber Justin Timberlake, poking and prodding he and girlfriend Cameron Diaz until JT lashed out like a cornered lion protecting his pride. Have paparazzi learned nothing from the untimely death of Crocodile Hunter Steve Irwin? How many times will they continue to approach these vicious beasts before someone ends up getting themselves hurt so badly that a Woodly Harrelson choking seems gentle by comparison? Be sure to check out X17′s Wildlife Video of this terrifying encounter!
- A plastic bag has been spotted floating near a shuttle in outer space, thus completely blowing the minds of stoned college kids who think American Beauty* and 2001 are, like, so deep man.
- While visiting boyfried Pete Doherty in rehab last week, Kate Moss reportedly “got it on” with him in the public garden, proving once again that these two are the Romeo and Juliet of drug-addled enablers. Oh bag of blow, bag of blow – wherefore art thou bag of blow?
- Jessica Simpson says shooting her movie Employee of the Month “got her through a tough time”. Yes, nothing brightens the days of bitter divorce quite like Dane Cook doing cartwheels while holding his crotch and making fart noises.
- You know what else healed the wounds of Jessica’s broken matrimony? F*cking some Jackass whose entire life’s work consists of binge drinking, lighting himself on fire and letting crabs dangle from his tongue.
- To mark the 15th anniversary of Nirvana’s landmark album Nevermind, Courtney Love busts out one of her old classics, “Still Shamelessly Exploiting My Dead Genius Husband For Personal Attention After All These Years”.
*Seriously, it’s a f*cking bag.
It’s Best Night Ever for Tuesday, September 19th! Adrianne Frost is here to walk you through the best of Tuesday night tv, including Dancing With The Stars, Standoff, and Nip/Tuck!
It’s the BWE Tuesday Afternoon Movie for September 19th! Every Tuesday, we’ll post a short film from our panelists, friends, and user submissions. Want to submit a movie? Send your short films and sketches to firstname.lastname@example.org.
This week, the Wicked Wicked Hammerkatz say goodbye to this cruel world…
Let me start by saying I have nothing against Pink. I may not celebrate the pop starâ€™s catalog, but youâ€™re not going to find me at any anti-Pink record-burning rallys either (although that would actually be kind of cool). Pink and I just kind of exist on the same planet and over the past 2 1/2 decades we’ve had about as much of a connection as Lance Bass and Emmanuelle Chiriqui did in On The Line. It was great, until NBC went and ruined it.
In a misguided attempt to connect with women (or the nationâ€™s youth, or other pop stars who are married to professional skateboarders), NBC tabbed Pink as the musical act that introduces their Sunday night NFL telecast. Now suddenly we’re connected. I never thought I’d say this, but come on… wasn’t Hank Williams Jr. available?
Onto to the three subplots that struck me as particularly interesting in Week 2 of the NATIONAL FOOTBALL LEAGUE.
Wide receivers continue to be the bane of professional sports, I blame Y2K
When did wide receivers become the worst people in the world? Was there an exact year? Without any real evidence to go on, Iâ€™ll say 2000. While we were all preoccupied with Y2K, Terrell Owens and several of his contemporary professional pass catchers took this opportunity to hatch a plan to become utterly despicable human beings.
Which hifalutin talk show host was seen walking down the red carpet wearing the latest in designer moustaches? We would elaborate, but staring at it so long started giving us the pre-harfing burps, so… just… take a look at who it is after the jump.