Goddamn you, Nebraska.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
From "Extra's" Britney Board
Look at that! Three great posts on the Brit board in a row! That never happens, I swear.
In #1 and #3 there seems to be a battle over which Baldwin would be the best at ministering to Britney. "Brother Daniel" or "Steven." [sic] That seems like a toss-up to me. Personally, I'd opt for the Kirk Cameron option.
And regarding #2, how sweet that Justin Timberlake would write in to defend his ex? Classy.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Sword Seized After Man Mistakes Porn For Rape
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Gunman Kills 2 Clowns In Colombian Circus
Not the crying on the inside kind. More like the bleeding on the outside kind.
"The clowns came out to give their show, and then this guy came out shooting them..."
God, Inc. In TV Guide
That's what people are telling me this morning. Something about top 10 best internet TV shows. Or something. Haven't seen it. My subscription ran out last time ALF was on the cover.
Oh shit. I hope it's not a "Jeer." That would be devastating.
My love of Coinstar, the star of coins, is well-documented, and I have mixed feelings about this, because I think Coinstar deserves its 9% for its pure evilgenius.
But because I'm dedicated to giving you all the Coinstar news that comes my way, here is the ultimate users guide to hacking a Coinstar machine.
Let me know if anyone tries it and it works.
The European Screenwriters Manifesto
Created late last year at the European Conference on Screenwriting.
We assert that:
• The screenwriter is an author of the film, a primary creator of the audiovisual work.
• The indiscriminate use of the possessory credit is unacceptable.
• The moral rights of the screenwriter, especially the right to maintain the integrity of a work and to protect it from any distortion or misuse should be inalienable and should be fully honored in practice.
• The screenwriter should receive fair payment for every form of exploitation of his work.
• As author the screenwriter should be entitled to an involvement in the production process as well as in the promotion of the film and to be compensated for such work. As author he should be named in any publication accordingly, including festival catalogues, TV listing magazines and reviews.
Strong words. Very European. Very necessary and brave.
By contract, the American Screenwriters Manifesto would read more like this:
• We demand DVD royalties at a fair rate adjusted to reflect the new strength of DVD revenue and contracted theatrical release window! But now that we hear you, studios, saying that that would bankrupt you... sure, just give us whatever you feel like.
• We require that producers and studios listen to the original voice and keep one writer through the entire process. Ooh, Nora Ephron is going to rewrite me and if she does the movie will have a better chance of actually getting made? Okay. Oh, but my name won't be on the final credits, only hers? Can I come to the premiere? No? Okay, cast and crew screening is fine then. Thanks.
• We advocate that writers be included on panels and press junkets promoting the film, and in post-screening Q & A's. Well, no, we haven't thought what to do when people start falling asleep or leaving while we talk. We'll get back to you on that.
• We strongly assert... um, that the WGA Christmas party should have an open bar.
• Look, we don't mean to be a pain, but could we may come to set one day just to-- No. Okay. Nevermind.
• Golly. I haven't been paid in two years. I'm sorta living in a box. Do you think you could call business affairs just one more time to see if they have any idea when I might... Yeah, I'll hold.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
'Late Late Show' Doesn't Mock Spears - Yahoo! News
What better way to respect someone's privacy during a difficult time than to announce on the air that you're respecting their privacy during a difficult time and relate it to your own difficult time, thus generating press for your ratings-challenged show the next morning? I can't think of a single better way.
...Except to go on to presume to know that someone "clearly needs help," and to annouce such within the above announcement of your desire to respect their privacy during a difficult time... which you're making a giant leap to assume is a difficult time because of the fact that you know from difficult times, since you once had your own difficult time. You know, years ago.
Well played, Ferguson. Don't look now, but you finally just became an American citizen without even having to take the test! Bravo.
Seriously, I applaud sober people, but lord, does it make even the most charming and funny among us sound like sanctimonious dicks. You know who was a good sober person? Sam Malone. Never preached. Never acted holier-than-thou. Just poured booze and drank seltzers and tried to fuck that Scientologist chick from Fat Actress. Nothing wrong with that. Except for the trying to fuck the Scientologist chick from Fat Actress. Though I guess at the time she wasn't such a mess, she was just married to a Hardy Boy. Which is bad enough.
Monday, February 12, 2007
Saturday, February 10, 2007
UPDATE! The Guy Advertising His Screenplay On The Eagle Rock Car Wash Bulletin Board
...is still at it.
Clearly Barry didn't heed my advice from six months ago. And good for him. Who am I? And seriously, with the addition of the spider? That's probably just the touch that's going to get him a big fat deal. Who knows, in a year I could be kissing Barry's ass for a job. And who will be laughing then? Barry. That's who.
Friday, February 09, 2007
The Not-So-Happy Song Corner
Back in an earlier incarnation of this site, back in 2000-2001, I did this silly little daily feature called "The Larry King Happy Song Corner" where Larry would "sing" a bit of a popular song and then drift off from there into his insane old-man ramblings. When I got tired of Larry I did the obscure "The Corin 'Corky' Nemic Happy Song Corner," which mostly featured Corky being bitter about the industry.
And then for a while it was "The Anna Nicole Smith Happy Song Corner." Anna was fat and crazy and embroiled in her lawsuit over the money from the geezer, and I know it's silly, but writing in her voice every day, even for five minutes, somehow gave me a special appreciation for her that remains today. It's all about the photo, really. It's just so unhinged and happy and completely without any sense of self. There's something oddly joyous about it; I will never be free enough to let myself balloon up and run around with clown lipstick all over my face high as a kite. Anyway, in tribute(?) to her, here are a few of the old entries.
Rest in peace, crazy lady.
THE ANNA NICOLE SMITH HAPPY SONG CORNER
My Maseratti does one-eighty-five. I lost my license, now I don't drive. I have a limo, ride in the back. I lock the doors in case I'm attacked. I'm making records, my fans they can't wait. They write me letters, tell me I'm great. So I got me an office, gold records on the wall. Just leave a message, maybe I'll call. Lucky I'm sane after all I've been through. I can't complain but sometimes I still do. Life's been good to me so far. I go to parties sometimes until four. It's hard to leave when you can't find the door. It's tough to handle this fortune and fame. Everybody's so different, I haven't changed. They say I'm lazy but it takes all my time. I keep on goin' guess I'll never know why. Life's been good to me so far...speaking of which. I have an office too. I do. I do. I have pictures of allllll my Guess print ads and the new ones I'm doing for Calvin Kling. Klein? Klein, yeah. I am doing his new campaign. It's all going to be all me. Just me and my Calvin's. Ha. It is. And that guy's going to photograph it. That black guy who everyone loves so much. That guy. I'm doing it as soon as they get all the regotiations worked out. My people, y'all, they always fight for me to get as much money as I'm worth, which right now with my International presence and... that word for people knowin' you... damn... anyway, my fee is up to like... one million a shoot. It is. It is. It's my "quote", you know, so if the ad doesn't happen and y'all never see them, it's only because- that black guy! What's his name? Not Martin Lawrence, is it? Is he the funny guy? Yeah. Not him... he don't shoot cameras. Silly. Ha. Hey, y'all seen my son? I love that lil' fucker. Y'all, the other night I had a tequila party over at my place, and some dickhead told me that they saw my son... doin' things to the valet guy out front in the bushes. I know. I know! I punched the guy right in the mouth. I did. I did. Callin' my son a gay. I know my son, I can't believe- Is it Sam Donaldson? Is that the colored guy? That's not right. Damn! I hate when I can't... hey, anyone seen my son? I swear that little gay, I mean, lil' fucker is going to drive me to drink. Ha. Shut up, you. Hey y'all, somebody c'mere and kiss me.
* * * * * * * * *
It's not far down to paradise. At least it's not for me. And if the wind is right you can sail away. And find tranquillity. The canvas can do miracles. Just you wait and see. Believe me. It's not far to never-never land. No reason to pretend. And if the wind is right you can find the joy. Of innocence again. The canvas can do miracles. Just you wait and see. Believe me. Sailing. Takes me away, to where I've always heard it could be. Just a dream and the wind to carry me. And soon I will be free. Fantasy. It gets the best of me. When I'm sailing. All caught up in the reverie. Every word is a symphony. Won't you believe me. It's not far back to sanity. At least it's not for me. And when the wind is right you can sail away. And find serenity. The canvas can do miracles. Just you wait and see. Believe me... Me and my late husband went sailing. We did. It was wonderful. My son came along and my husband's nurses. It was so cool seeing the water and the fish and the birds. So many birds. It was the most romantic day. And they had martinis and crackers and steak and Eskimo Pies too. On a boat! I know. I miss that boat... I mean, my husband. I miss my husband. I can too remember his name. It's... uh... y'all are messing with me. Stop! Sillies.
* * * * * * * * *
When you're alone and life is making you lonely you can always go - downtown. When you've got worries, all the noise and the hurry seems to help, I know - downtown. Just listen to the music of the traffic in the city. Linger on the sidewalk where the neon signs are pretty. How can you lose? The lights are much brighter there. You can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares. So go downtown, things'll be great when you're downtown - no finer place, for sure. Downtown - everything's waiting for you. Don't hang around and let your problems surround you there are movie shows - downtown ...speaking of which. Hey y'all. This one time I was looking for my son - I think I was in high school at the time and my son was like seven or something, and I couldn't find him anywhere. So I gave up and decided to go downtown. Now this was a small lil' town in Texas, but downtown was still the coolest place you could go. It was. And I went to the bar and met my sister's ex-boyfriend's cousin and he bought me a drink and, well, you know. You do know. You do. And so afterwards he slowed his car down and just pushed me out, which was fine. I had learned how to roll right so you don't hurt yourself too much. And when I stopped rolling I looked up... and there was my son! Just settin' there on the side of the road, waiting. I hit him a few times for making me worry so much, and then we walked home and he made me some ravioli from the can and we had dinner. That was a nice night, y'all.
* * * * * * * * *
Now somewhere in the black mountain hills of Dakota there lived a young boy named Rocky Raccoon. And one day his woman ran off with another guy. Hit young Rocky in the eye. Rocky didn't like that, he said "I'm gonna get that boy." So one day he walked into town booked himself a room in the local saloon. Rocky Raccoon checked into his room. Only to find Gideon's bible. Rocky had come equipped with a gun. To shoot off the legs of his rival. His rival it seems had broken his dreams. By stealing the girl of his fancy. Her name was, Magil and she called herself Lil. But everyone knew her as Nancy. Now she and her man who called himself Dan. Were in the next room at the hoe down. Rocky burst in and grinning a grin. He said "Danny boy this is a showdown." But Daniel was hot, he drew first and shot. And Rocky collapsed in the corner, ah... speaking of which. Y'all. My daddy used to read to me from Gideon's bible. I would sit there as he read about people begatting each other, and I always wondered who Gideon was, and so I asked my daddy one day. And he was all, "That's the King of Berlin, and he gave me this bible when I was the Duke in his court." And I never knew my daddy was a Duke! And after that night I looked up to him more than I ever had before. Until one day I learned the truth - there is no King of Berlin. My daddy must have meant Bangkok or somethin'.
* * * * * * * * *
Chickety China that Chinese chicken. You have a drumstick and your brain stops tickin'. Watchin X-files with no lights on, we're dans la maison. I hope the Smoking Man's in this one. Like Harrison Ford I'm gettin frantic. Like Sting I'm tantric. Like Snickers, guaranteed to satisfy. Like Kurasawa I make mad films. OK I don't make films. But if I did they'd have a samauri. Gonna get a better set of clubs. Gonna find the kind with tiny nubs. Just so my iron's aren't always flyin off the back-swing. Gotta get in tune with Sailor Moon. Cause the cartoon has got the boom anime babes, that make me think the wrong thing... speaking of which. Hoo, y'all. Tremember when Herrison Ford was in thje Indyana Johnes with Jams Boond and the Grooses won't flytand boond goes witht he unbrellsa and flapps his urms ahd the uhnbreolsa and they flys and makes thye plane of the Natzis crazayh in to that moontrain?> That wswa fuuny. Jessus Y'all, i'm fuckes up. I anm. i amm. I wasjn t goinghg to, but I wasn wawtching Everybodik loves Raymnd and i was all to my>frend, "Hey yall. I'm fumnniesr than thanb girl huh? I coulrdfdg play the fujck out of thatsr fucker ijf they just gaves me a changce but weveryone just thinkgs of me as a high-prixdfawe modle and so i don;t getrs offersd rooles like that abnd hs was alll "Honyh, peoplw think off you drunks and fgat, not a hgihrpocfed noodle anyomre." She sdad that ,d'yll? i tolds her twdo take it bafk buty she woulsdn't soio i cllaed my gardenser and hee broute ovetg a bottels and werr got durnk and I kilsssed him y'all. He toldd mer I'm ptretty ajnd very verry funbnhy. He didn. He did! Whats doesta that bitdhyn nkmonw anwyhayway Oooh, i'm goinna go hwatke up wthe lil' fukcer - jmake him ateach mee the Ganme Boy and hug mea ahnd make me som wwaffles buz I'm awfyul hunhngy.
* * * * * * * * *
My friend's got a bruise on his leg, a bruise on his leg, everytime you speak. My friend's got a bruise on his leg, where I press my knee, everytime you speak. Actually, bottom line, you tell the truth sometimes. Sometimes you tell the truth like you're pulling taffy. My friend's got a bruise on his arm, a bruise on his arm, everytime you speak. My friend's got a bruise on his arm, where I shove my elbow, everytime you speak.... speaking of which. Hey, y'all. Did y'all have a good vacation? What was it, Memory Day or Easter or some shit? Look y'all, I got a bruise on my jaw. I don't know how I got it either. I don't. I don't. I was out drinkin' with some people the other night at that big black guy's house - that directory-actory guy with the cross-eyes. You know. That guy. Anyway, last thing I remember I was up on this balcony with John Cusack and I was asking him for... well, narcotics of the white powder sort... OK, cocaine. There, I said it. Don't you judge me. Anyway, he kept saying he was out and I think he tried to kiss me or I tried to kiss him or somethin', and then I was at home asleep in the lobby of my building. So I don't really know what happened, all I know is... Oh, wait a minute, y'all. I do know what happened! Minnie Driver head-butted me. That big Spanish bitch. I don't think it was on purpose because we're really close. But who knows. People always take what I say the wrong way. I reckon that's just the curse of being "complex". It is. It is. Jan Michael Vincent called me that one day. And he should know. You know what I mean. You do. You do. Serious, y'all.
* * * * * * * * *
Get up and free yourself from yourself. Locked up inside you, like the calm beneath castles, is a cavern of treasures that no one has been to. Let's go digging. Bring it out to take you back in. You won't do what you'd like to do. Lay back and let me show you another way. I'll kill what you want me to, take what's left and eat it. Take all or nothing. Life's just too short to push it away. Take it all. Take it all in. All the way in. Let it go. Let it go in. You won't feel what you'd like to feel. Lay back and let me show you another way... speaking of which. You know, y'all. I say affirmations in the mirror every morning now. I do. I do. Well, most mornings, when I remember. I say, "You are pretty. You are thin and pretty. You will put your make-up on straight today. Your son is not gay, and even if the lil' fucker is, it ain't your fault. It ain't. It ain't. You will remember your lines for the guest spot on Pacific Blue today. You will. Or you'll have cue cards and you'll read them right. You can reach out and take life. You can take it all. Just not all of the craft services table. Don't take all of that. Put down the pie. Put down the pie. You don't need the pie. The pie might need you, but you don't need the pie. Well, maybe just a little bite. Mmmmm. That's some good pie. Just one more slice. Just one... OK, you're not a bad person for eating that whole pie. You're not. You're not. Now put your pants back on." And it really works! It does, y'all. It does. Damn.
* * * * * * * * *
If I were the moon I'd be cool. If I were a rule I would bend. If I were a good man, I'd understand the spaces between friends. If I were alone I would cry. And if I were with you I'd be home and dry. And if I go insane, will you still let me join in with the game? If I were a swan I'd be gone. If I were a train I'd be late again. And if I were a good man, I'd talk with you more often than I do...speaking of which. Someone asked me what I do when I'm alone, cuz, like, I always have people over, y'all. And, man, I don't know. I'm fine alone. I am. I am. I'm just not that much. I got my people. I got my assistants and Percy and the lil' fucker and my bodyguard and my hair guy is always playing pool or swimming with the lil' fucker. But I could be alone. I just ain't much. What would I do? I would take a bath and watch TV and drink a beer or two. And then I'd call my friends and have them take me out or something to celebrate being an alone independent woman. See. Easy.
* * * * * * * * *
I've got ninety thousand pounds in my pajamas. I've got forty thousand French francs in my fridge. I've got lots of lovely lire. Now the Deutschmark's getting dearer. And my dollar bills would buy the Brooklyn Bridge. There is nothing quite as wonderful as money. There is nothing quite as beautiful as cash. Some people say it's folly, But I'd rather have the lolly. With money you can make a splash... speaking of which. Oh. My. God. Y'all. Did you hear!? Did you??? That stupid judge awarded me 449.7 million dollars! Million!!! He did. He did. Holy mother of pearl. Yee-haw! Yee-haw, y'all! D'ya see? D'ya see? That's almost like a trillion dollars. You know how much I have in my account right now? Do you? Like nothing. Barely anything. And now... I'm fuckin' rich, y'all! I am fuckin' rich I could buy an island or a country or the fuckin' world. Oh. My. God... What? Oh... I mean. I'm very happy this matter has been resolved in a satisfactory and timely matter. Y'all.
* * * * * * * * *
And the macabre...
Now I have nothing, so God give me strength. 'Cause I'm weak in her wake. And if I'm strong I might still break. And I don't have anything to share. That I won't throw away into the air. That song is sung out. This bell is rung out. She was the light that I'd bless. She took my last chance at happiness. So God give me strength. God give me strength. I can't hold onto her, God give me strength. When the phone doesn't ring. And I'm lost in imagining. Everything that kind of love is worth. As I tumble back down to the earth. That song is sung out. This bell is rung out. She was the light that I'd bless. She took my last chance at happiness. So God give me strength...speaking of which. okay. y'all. y'all! y'all listen! you listening? i'm serious. Listen to me! Y'all! Okay. Okay, ready? I was like, getting up? The other day? And, like, when i woke up? My, like, my eyes were like, up? But like, i couldn't move my body or anything? Not my arms Not my legs, not my hands, not my fingers, not my toes, Not my neck, not my back, not my tummy, I was like, ohhhhh! And i was all, NOOOOO! Because like when my sweetie got like that we had to put him in that chair? And he was really sad when he couldn't hold my titties anymore, you know? So i started trying to scream? So that like, the neighbors could call 9111? And i was all... are y'all listening? Damn! this is important! Y'all, okay. i was all, "what if they think i'm already dead? and i get buried alive and shit?" And i bet getting buried alive is like, really scary, you know? I saw a movie on it once. I didn't like it. I didn't, y'all. i'm serious. So, like i did what my mama would have told me to done. She was always all, "when you think you can't do it, when you think it's all over... When your legs are tired and your jaw is all sore, You just beg for strength." So i did, y'all. I begged god for strength. And, y'all know what happened? I swear to god, y'all, One of my big dogs jumped on the nightstand? And he was all, jumping and shit? And he totally knocked over one of my pill bottles? the ones i keep open for the morning? And since i was screaming? The pill fell right in? And i was like, "Okay, y'all. It's okay." But now I'm wondering how i was able to move my mouth. I guess that's god's will, y'all.
Monday, February 05, 2007
"God, Inc." In The Washington Post
"God, Inc." discussed as being the direction in which You Tube and other video-sharing sites should/will/is going.
It's nice and all. But personally, I hope not, because then where would I go to watch "Farting Baby (Baby enjoys her farts. It's so fun!)"?
Saturday, February 03, 2007
My Friends Have The Coolest Jobs
Did you ever wonder what the main bloggers for the Lakers actually did during the course of a game? Of course you did! Congrats to my buddies the Kamenetzkys for this great segment that appeared on KCAL9 before the game against the Pacers last night.