(Excuse us while we open our NSFW-brellas. Fair warning.)
Just when we get word that airplanes are back to slamming into New York City buildings, yet another piece of shocking news arrives: Screech’s Sex Tape is now FOR SALE. The tape, called Screeched (surely an onomatopoeia for your sex drive slamming on its brakes) features actor Dustin Diamond (top left), two young ladies (including a Mindy Cohn lookalike, bottom left), and one infamous doody-stache. All this for only $50! You can pre-order the DVD today and worry about acid rinsing your eye sockets out tomorrow.
So without further a-doo, check out the latest trailer posted by ClubRedLight, and putting aside the “not safe for work” business, Screech’s pleasure moans might possibly ruin the rest of your afternoon.
I’m sure you’ve never heard of either Tove Christensen or an American Express Black card, but let me tell you a tale of these two entities, and how their fates recently became intertwined at a LA-area Baskin-Robbins ice cream parlor. Tove is the under-employed brother of actor Hayden Christensen, who is best known as one of George Lucas’ accomplices in ruining Star Wars. The American Express Black card is an extremely rare piece of plastic that boasts a LIMITLESS line of credit to those who bear it, a privilege usually reserved for only the world’s wealthiest, most elite individuals. Well according to our friends at TMZ, Hayden’s “Johnny Drama” hanger-on brother recently paid for a frozen dessert at Baskin-Robbins with said Super Credit Card. Now, I’ve felt guilty about throwing a four dollar Frappelatteccino on my maxed-out Discover Card, so anyone who would put a chocolate sundae on a credit card they have no business being in possession of, and that people typically use to purchase private jets and small islands, deserves the distinction of being today’s Daily Douche.
We’re starting a new feature here at bwe.tv, cleverly titled Ask BWE! If you have a question you want answered, just send it our way. Email us at email@example.com and we’ll answer your pop culture questions here on the site. Today, we start with Amanda from NY, who has a question about Nicole Richie’s ex, DJ AM. Why was he recently spotted with a black eye? Click below to hear all about it… in his own words.
How do I say goodbye to what we had?
The good times that made us laugh
Outweigh the bad.
I thought we’d get to see forever
But forever’s gone away
It’s so hard to say goodbye to yesterday.
Friends. Family. Random dudes who have drunkenly hooked up with Tara after a long night at Hyde. Members of the media. It is with much sadness that we gather here today to say goodbye to Tara’s ridiculously large and somewhat deformed breast implants. During their brief time on Earth they touched so many people. So many people. They made a difference, and they won’t be forgotten any time soon. Every time we watch clips of Taradise on YouTube, we will remember. Every time we’re incredibly bored and/or hungover on a Sunday afternoon and catch Alone In The Dark on basic cable, we will remember. And every time a young starlet pops out of her dress in front of a room full of paparazzi and is too drugged out to realize what’s happening… we will remember.
Be strong, people. It’s not going to be easy. But we must do our best to accept Tara with open arms. She’s lost
a two big part(s) of who she is, which can’t be easy. However, we should all take solace in the fact that we know they’ve gone on to a better place; running around with Pamela Anderson’s old implants and Punky Brewster’s original D-Cups at that great breast reduction center in the sky. Amen.
Sure, this might just be some smutty hipster techno band’s strange Myspace page, and yes, they seem to genuinely appreciate/worship the real Paris Hilton. But Paris Hitler is a pretty fantastic nom de plume (and frankly, her song “Eye Wanna Nu Drug” is oddly addictive in an Atari-Pong kind of way), and an even better idea for a Halloween costume. (Wig? Check. Moustache? Check. Ass flap? Check.) Whether or not these techno folks actually hate the Jews, well, we’ll choose to believe they don’t… (though we’d easily believe the real Paris drops the k-bomb on a regular basis.)
Check out their profile here, and make sure to note the uncanny resemblance between Fred the Donut Guy and a certain you know who.
The following is a Public Service Announcement from the Office of Dangerous Celebrity Control.
All media professionals, paparazzi, doormen and random pedestrians in the Greater Los Angeles Area should heed this VERY IMPORTANT WARNING. Canadian pop singer Avril Lavigne is on the loose, armed and dangerous, and should only be approached, if absolutely necessary, with the utmost caution. Responsible for a slew of recent media attacks, Lavigne could stike anywhere, day or night (though probably at night, outside of some LA douchebag nightclub), employing any of the following terror tactics:
- Liberal use of middle finger.
- Shouting expletives (yes, even the dreaded “F-word”).
- Spitting on those who get too close to her.
- Making smooshed up frowny faces to show how tough she is.
- Inexplicable angst.
- Laughing and rambling incoherenly while drunk on two Smirnoff Ices.
- Smoking Cigarettes.
- Wearing Sex Pistols t-shirts purchased in a shopping mall.
- Stumbling around like a drunk whore.
- Blaring her “punk rock” music from the backseat of her Luxury SUV.
- Hurling insults at no one in particular.
- Disgustingly making out with her equally punk rock husband, the dude from Sum Charlotte 182.
- Tragically lacking any self-awareness.
The Avril Alert Level is currently set to: RED (Extemely High). Consider yourselves warned.
We love the local news. Specifically, the people who do the weather on the local news. In this clip we present to you the hippest weatherman this side of Long Beach. And your first nominee for Best Dated Pop Culture Reference In A News Program is…
Wonderful. I can hardly wait for 2008 so he can deliver the line, “We’re bringing Sexy Back… along with the humidity!”
Prepare to enjoy the three most mind-blowing minutes of your day. Sure, some cats can aim their tootsie rolls right into the bowl, but the following feline should sport an effing top hat and monocle, that is how classy it is.
(Thanks to Video Dog for the link!)
We’ve been known to catch a Lifetime original movie every now and again, whilst basting ourselves in Ben N’ Jerry’s “Self-Pitty” and throwing pages of My Mother/My Self onto our emotional fires to stay warm. But pardon us if we cock a suspicious eyebrow towards Lifetime’s latest addition to their estro-genderrific lineup: A movie entitled Why I Wore Lipstick to My Mastectomy, featuring an original song by India.Arie called “I Am Not My Hair”. (Aren’t you, India? Aren’t you?)
Upon further research, this made-for-tv-movie is intended to be a comedy, and is based on the chick-litty book of the same name. (A-phew!) A noony comedy, no doubt. The movie premieres October 23 at 9PM ET*, so feel free to Tivo it and add it to your All-Cancer Film Festival lineup. In the meantime, we’ll be checking for karma-induced tumors in the show-show.
*For the record, we will watch it, and cry for hours.