I asked ‘Why?’ so many times during this story of Sam Worthington punching a paparazzi in the face that I had to step away from my desk and make a little plaque for it thanking it on its dedicated service as the most overused word in my vocabulary today (don’t worry – ‘fuck’ gets a runner-up trophy).
According to TMZ, actor Sam Worthington (skinny-legs from Avatar, “Perseus” from that movie where Liam Neeson shouts RELEASE THE KRAKEN) was out walking with his girlfriend, Lara Bingle (who’s name sounds like a fancy pink Christmas tree from the 70s) in Greenwich Village when a pap came up and kicked Lara in the shin. Sam reacted how most guys would if they saw someone kick their partner, and punched the pap in the face. Sam was then charged with assault and was released, and the pap, Sheng Li, was charged with reckless endangerment, assault, and harassment, and is still in the chokey.
Okay, so I have so many questions about this situation. Why did Sheng Li randomly kick Lara Bingle in the shin? What did Lara’s shin ever do to you, Sheng? Also, why were paps following Sam Worthington? Did I miss the memo that there’s a high demand for candid shots of the guy from Man on a Ledge?
But the most important Why is…why in the name of all that is holy were they out walking around in New York FOR FUN? It’s too fucking cold for that! The last time I checked, Satan and the bottom bitch he lets control the weather had dropped the temperature to Fuck You-degrees Fahrenheit; I’m sure Sheng Li was probably just trying to kick her back inside. “You wanna audition for the role of Jack Torrance’s frozen corpse in an off-Broadway production of The Shining? Git! Git back in the house! And take your dragon-fucking boyfriend with you!”
Well, this one stings. If you grew up in the 80s like I did, then a huge chunk of your childhood just broke off and floated away into the ocean of sadness to never be heard from again. Comic icon, writer, director, actor, producer and Chicago legend Harold Ramis died in Chicago this morning. He was 69. And yes, I’m sure he’s telling 69 jokes to the angels up in heaven.
Harold’s wife Erica Mann Ramis told The Chicago Tribune that he was surrounded by his family when he died early this morning from complications of an autoimmune disease. I did not know this, but Harold’s health problems started really fucking with him in 2010 after he had surgery for diverticulitis and had to learn how to walk again. He suffered a relapse a year later and never fully recovered.
I don’t have to sit here and type all of Harold’s movies, because you probably already know them all and have told your boss that you have to go home with the sads to watch Ghostbusters, Caddyshack, Groundhog Day, Stripes, Meatballs and my personal favorite Bedazzled (yes, I said Bedazzled!). If you’re 8 years old, you probably know Harold as Seth Rogen’s dad in Knocked Up. Harold recently directed a few episodes of The Office and he played Adam in Year One in 2009.
Harold Ramis is survived by his wife and his three kids.
Rest in peace, Egon. You will be missed.
Alternate title: Nicolas Cage is going to be somebody’s grandpa.
At the Kasem Cares Foundation’s First Annual Fundraiser in Beverly Hills on Saturday night, Weston Cage’s second wife Danielle showed up with a whole lot of fetus in her body and they both let Closer Weekly know that in just a few months a newborn boy is going to open his eyes and see that his father looks like the lowest-rated Khal Drogo impersonator on Yelp. The newborn boy will close his little eyelids hoping that it’s all just a nightmare and when he opens them again, he’ll see the face of his pepaw Nicolas Cage who will probably scream, “NOT THE DROOLZ,” every time he gets the slobbers.
Danielle said that they’re having a boy and they didn’t plan on becoming parents, but they embrace all of it. 23-year-old Weston dribbled this out about his dad’s reaction.
“He was ecstatic. His reaction was one of pure joy and bliss. Family is very important to us. My father and I actually speak everyday and Danielle and I texted him the ultrasound photograph which was actually confirmation of what we thought.”
Nicolas Cage is filled all the way to the top with the crazies, but being his grandchild might be fun for a quick second since he owns a castle (or did the bank snatch that shit away too?) and most of his houses probably look like the Medieval section of the SkyMall catalog took a wet, messy shit on a Medieval Times. And even though Weston Cage got arrested for allegedly drunkenly brawling with his first wife two years ago, buys all of his clothes in the sale section of a Hot Topic, wears more Urban Decay make-up than a 10th grader circa 1999 and can’t even win a fight against his babysitter, maybe being his son won’t be that awful (yes, it will be). Maybe being surrounded by all that fuckery and craziness will make that kid normal. He’s totally going to be the Marilyn of the family.
I don’t know why Danielle and Weston didn’t expect for her to get knocked up after they bareback fucked. I mean, Weston can serve up some hot karate kicking moves, so of course his jizz fish are going to karate kick into any ovary egg they come in contact with.
Oooh, Justin Bieber just got the fear. Now that Chris Brown is back on the streets, Tantrum Toddler is no longer the baddest boy on the block anymore. Whipping down the street on your Big Wheel and egging houses? Puh-lease. Chris Brown’s gonna school you on how to really egg a house. And by ‘egg a house’, I mean ‘beat someone till you’ve been charged with felony assault‘.
Or maybe those 90-days of court-ordered anger management rehab have rubbed off on him and he’s traded in his bad boy ways for building bird houses and tying knots with his scout troop. I mean, the cynical realist in me says he’s not, but according to Hollywood Life, the sorry slug of a human we call Breezy has emerged from rehab as beautiful, gentle butterfly. Here, hold out your hands so I may distribute several grains of salt:
“He’s back home now and he feels good about it,” a source close to Chris tells Hollywood Life exclusively. After Chris left rehab, he headed to a music video shoot, where he broke out some impressive moves for his new single, “Loyal.” His closest friends then welcomed him back home with open arms.
Now the next step for Chris is to take what he was taught in anger management rehab and apply it to the real world. “He’s trying to take what he learned with him about his anger and relationships with women and his mother and use those skills to make his relationships better,” the source insists.
I don’t want to believe that Chris Brown is a changed boy (I refuse to use the word man) but he did recently Instagram a picture of himself at a benefit dinner and it wasn’t a picture of his fist making contact with the face of one of the two other guys sitting beside him, or him smashing the shit out of the table while flipping everyone off, so…baby steps? What if rehab actually worked and he’s no longer a violent lizard? Hahaha, I know; that’s like saying “Maybe Kim Kardashian is ready for a quiet life of privacy“. But for the sake of trying to be a good person, I sort of hope he has put his Street Fighter ways behind him so we can get back to focusing on what truly matters: the shitty, shitty music he makes.
Pro tip: If you haven’t completely numbed your mind yet by injecting pure caffeine into your eyeballs, then skip Alec Baldwin’s “BYE BITCH” essay in New York Magazine and just watch a GIF of him wah-wah-wah-ing on a loop, because that pretty much sums it up. It’s hard out there for an Alec Baldwin.
In a 5 million word essay for a media publication, Alec Baldwin squats and shits on the media (including Anderson Cooper, Harvey Levin and Rachel Maddow) and says that he’s done with the paparazzi-ridden NYC and is moving to the quiet, un-fame-whore-y, private and paparazzi-free land known as Los Angeles. Alec Baldwin moving to L.A. to get away from the paparazzi is like Alec Baldwin saying he’s done with public life by putting a close-up of his face on the cover of a public ass magazine.
Alec starts off by writing that after Harvey Levin of TMZ put the slur “faggot” in his mouth and some labeled him as a goat-footed wheezy old homophobe, he went to Hawaii to do a movie and while he was there he met with two LGBT organizations. They talked about hate speech against gay people and I guess Alec learned a lot, because he called one of them a tranny.
One young man, an F-to-M tranny, said, “Are you here to get dry-cleaned, like Brett Ratner?” Meaning I could do some mea culpa, write them a six-figure check, go to a dinner, sob at the table, give a heartfelt speech, beg for forgiveness. I thought to myself: Beg for forgiveness for something I didn’t do?
I said, “No. I don’t want to get dry-cleaned. I don’t want to be decontaminated by you, Karen Silkwood–wise, scrubbed down. I want to learn about what is hurtful speech in your community. I want to participate in some programs about that. Or underwrite one. And then, like you, I just want to be left alone.”
Alec then goes on to fart about how he’s campaigned for marriage equality and is a strong supporter for the gay community and that he’s far from being a homophobe. Alec says that he never spit out the word “faggot,” but he did call that pap a “cocksucking motherfucker” for following his wife and causing her to fall. After The Silver Fox (whom he calls “ the self-appointed Jack Valenti of gay media culture“) and Andrew Sullivan came after him, MSNBC canceled his show.
In the recent video, you see me completely riled up and going after this guy and you hear me saying “cocksucker” and then some bisyllabic word that sounds like “faggot”—but wasn’t. Still, it doesn’t matter. glaad comes after me and Anderson Cooper comes after me and Andrew Sullivan comes after me, all maintaining that I’m a hateful homophobe. All based on what Harvey Levin told them.
Immediately prior to this, I’d go see Phil (the head of MSNBC) and I’d say, “What are the ratings?” If I had 15 meetings with Phil Griffin, 5 of them were after the show, with me saying, “What do you make of these ratings?” He’d say, “Don’t worry. It takes time.” (We beat Cooper two of three Fridays at ten.) Although he appeared to have some buyer’s remorse, he told me to hang in there. After the TMZ event, he said, “Don’t worry. I have to suspend you. But this will blow over.” I have all the emails to prove it. And then, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, MSNBC said, “You’re fired.”
Now, Alec hates the media, is over Manhattan, and is done with public life.
I probably have to move out of New York. I just can’t live in New York anymore. Everything I hated about L.A. I’m beginning to crave. L.A. is a place where you live behind a gate, you get in a car, your interaction with the public is minimal. I used to hate that. But New York has changed. Manhattan is like Beverly Hills. And the soul of New York has moved to Brooklyn, where everything new and exciting seems to be. I have to accept that. I want my newest child to have as normal and decent a life as I can provide. New York doesn’t seem the place for that anymore.
It’s good-bye to public life in the way that you try to communicate with an audience playfully like we’re friends, beyond the work you are actually paid for. Letterman. Saturday Night Live. That kind of thing. I want to go make a movie and be very present for that and give it everything I have, and after we’re done, then the rest of the time is mine. I started out as an actor, where you seek to understand yourself using the words of great writers and collaborating with other creative people. Then I slid into show business, where you seek only an audience’s approval, whether you deserve it or not. I think I want to go back to being an actor now.
There’s a way I could have done things differently. I know that. If I offended anyone along the way, I do apologize. But the solution for me now is: I’ve lived this for 30 years, I’m done with it.
I was going to say that bitch should move to Brooklyn then, but I love Brooklyn too much to wish that upon it. So damn dramatic. Alec really needs to learn from Steven Slater and Inetta the Moodsetta. Keep your goodbye simple and to the point. Let out an “I QUIT THIS BITCH” or slide down the inflatable yellow exit slide while waving. Or Alec could’ve pulled a Shia LaDouche and put a paper bag over his head.
Whatever, let’s all wave goodbye to Alec as he leaves public life. And I hope he’s taking his insufferable, downward dogging fame whore wife with him.
Miley said, “For a few more Lincolns, I’ll go down on somebody on stage”. They only offered her one. She did it anyway. – SFRowGuy
Four sores and Seven years later He’ll still be scratching that thing after this. – nightflyer001
If you replaced that carton of milk (or whatever the hell that is) with a gravy boat full of melted butter, this is exactly what it looks like when Paula Deen’s husband Michael Groover takes a bath.
This hot German daddy bear who is making your tongue extra moist is the star of a ridiculous commercial for Germany’s largest grocery store EDEKA. This is exactly what it looks like when a pepaw spikes his Metamucil with Molly. He serves up the sweet moves in supermarket aisles, he hand delivers a cake to two hot memaws, he steals a hairy pussy from a sushi-eating chick and he smokes a hot dog like it’s a cigar. It’s zuper! I have no idea what he’s saying, but it’s still doing zuper things to me. Get into a hot milk bath and enjoy the Germany fuckery:
I know, I didn’t know David Lynch directed commercials for German grocery store chains. And yes, I’d totally hit it in a tub of German cereal and leche while screaming, “ZUPER YES!”
Abe Vigoda (93)
Trace Cyrus (25)
Lleyton Hewitt (33)
Floyd Mayweather, Jr. (37)
Chad Hugo (40)
Bonnie Somerville (40)
Billy Zane (48)
Kristin Davis (49)
Todd Field (50)
Michelle Shocked (53)
Paula Zahn (58)
Helen Shaver (63)
Debra Jo Rupp (63)
Edward James Olmos (67)
Rupert Holmes (67)
Barry Bostwick (69)
Paul Jones of Manfred Mann (72)
Dominic Chianese (83)
Emmanuelle Riva (87)
Humanized vertical ice cube tray January Jones Instagrammed this picture of her 9-year-old self in 1988 and one of my only comments about this is: AAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!
That shirt. That mullet. That eye squint. Those pre-braces teefs. That picture has forced me to be disappointed with myself, because I went through the 1980s without having a mullet at least once. What’s the point of living in the 80s if you didn’t have hair like an Eastern European lesbian tennis player? If I could do it all over again, I’d definitely get a mullet. But really, I call shenanigans on that picture. There’s no way that January Jones was ever an average, normal human child. We all know that she’s an icicle that was brought to life and turned into a human by an evil, black magic witch.
And here’s January Jones and her kid Xander in L.A. ten days ago. May the “That’s Jason Sudeikis’ mini-me, no, that’s Matthew Vaughn’s mini-me!” comments commence!
My favorite tia’s name is Lupita, and so I have a special love for Lupita Nyong’o and I usually think that she could do no wrong and is the epitome of goddess. This entire awards show season, Lupita has killed hos with her elegance and I really thought there was no way she could fuck up fashion-wise. I thought that Lupita could show up to an award show with CROCs heels and a cinched Snuggie gown and we’d all get on our knees and worship her sophistication. But I learned something new today, Lupita can do wrong.
At the NAACP Awards in Pasadena, CA yesterday, Lupita showed up with Bram Stoker’s Dracula hair and a dress that looked like it was made of orange Fruit Roll-Ups, wrappers and all. She looks like a dehydrated mango slice. I shouldn’t look at Lupita and think, “Magatu’s long-lost love child, is that you, girl?” Also, that fugly dress isn’t doing good things to her chichis.
With all that being said, Lupita was still the hottest and probably best-dressed trick there. I mean, The Mighty O wore a tent dress that was designed by Coleman and Kerry Washington wore a dress that a knocked up 11th grader would wear to her junior prom. So Lupita won best dressed of the night by default.
And click here to see all the winners. ANGELA BASSETT WAS RAAAAAAAAAAAAAH-BBDED!