It’s a good thing I follow several Kardashians on Instagram, otherwise that screen grab of an artificially-lipped creature in such close proximity to an over-inflated rubber ball might have really scared me.
The first official teaser trailer for the Warner Bros. remake of Stephen King’s It was released today. It comes out on September 8th. That gives people enough time for their chewed-down nails to grow back before they chew them down again. The 1990 TV movie version of It, starring Tim Curry, launched a generation of clown phobias. And I got a major case of the creeps when I saw that picture of Bill Skarsgard as Pennywise. But based on the trailer for New It, I don’t think I’ll need to sleep with too many lights on after I watch it. 2 or 3, max.
We should’ve known in January 2016 that the year was going to be a real disaster when it was announced that month that Joseph Fiennes was playing Michael Jackson in a British TV production. That bit of fuckery was foreshadowing and we should’ve saged the rest of the calendar when we had the chance.
My brain protected my soul by forgetting that news, but I was reminded today when UK’s Sky Arts shat up the terrifying first trailer for Urban Myths. Urban Myths features stories from the past that may not be true and it includes the magical one about how Elizabeth Taylor, Michael Jackson and Marlon Brando drove from NYC to Ohio in a rental car after the 9/11 attacks. In Urban Myths, Stockard Channing plays Liz and Brian Cox plays Brando. This train wreck also features a story about Hitler (played by Iwan Rheon) and his friend (played by Rupert Grint). Grab a jumbo-sized vat of holy water and press play:
Those prosthetics look like expired homemade playdough and the guy who plays the cop deserves a million awards for this. Because he was able to say the line, “Michael?“, instead of running for the nearest church after taking in the sight of what looks like a deranged Team America puppet of Criss Angel that was sculpted from an old vanilla candle. This is obviously satire, because there’s no way that cop would look at that nose and say, “Michael?” That nose is way too big. Shameful.
You know who’s really the devil? Yes, I am for calling that dried crotch cherry “Canada’s Jesus.” But the devil also lives in the stylist who put that look together. Justin Bieber looks like a Quints-fied Jeffrey Dahmer mixed with some Stanley Tucci in Lovely Bones and a drop of Terry Richardson. He looks like a child-touching child. That picture should come with a whistle and some holy water.
Instagram used to be one of the many churches where crazed Beliebers could worship their idol, but on August 16, 2016, a light in their life went out when he left IG. Since the Biebs is a toddler gremlin who feeds off of social media likes, I thought that he’d bring his page back from the dead eventually, but he hasn’t yet. And during a show in London last night, he dribbled out a Kanye-like sermon about the evils of Instagram.
If Charmed, Charlie’s Angeles and Wilson Phillips taught us anything, it’s that the power of 3 is unstoppable! So all of us peasants better spend our last few moments of freedom wearing color and smiling, because we’ll be banned from doing both of those things when the Trinity of Olsen Unholiness takes over the world. Half of us will be thrown into a factory where we’ll be forced to make our new overlords handmade cigarettes using French rolling papers, tobacco and the ashes of those who dared defy them! The other half of us will be thrown into a factory where we’ll be forced to hand-stitch panther hide caftans for our new leaders and their fellow evil-hearted rich friends. (I hope that whichever factory I’m thrown into, I’m assigned a spot next to Kimmy Gibbler so she can give me all the details of the Trollsens’ rise from cutesy toddlers to dictator gnomes.) When that happens, remember these pictures that served as a warning for the impending Olsen takeover!
At last night’s CFDA Awards in NYC, Elizabeth Olsen got sandwiched between Doom and Gloom as they all posed for pictures on the red carpet. Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen did themselves up like 1970s Santa Monica fortune tellers whose clients can always be seen going into their storefront but are never seen coming out. They did their sister/dark priestess-in-training up as an overgrown Ariana Grande Latte at a seance full of witches who buy all their clothes at White House|Black Market. What I’m trying to say is that the three of them together are more terrifying than the Macbeth witches!
But maybe there’s hope. In most of the pictures, Elizabeth Olsen is smiling and there’s a sparkle in her eye that I don’t think is from thinking about how she’s going to cackle into the night sky as she hears the pained cries of the mortals. I know, I’m trying to fool myself. She’s totally one of them now. I better learn how to sew.
Many book of fables will tell you that bridge trolls don’t do themes, because stupid human novelties like that are beneath them and the only thing that really brings them joy is hearing the blood-curdling moans of their victim as they siphon out that mortal’s soul for giving the wrong answer to their riddle. So, of course, Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen rolled their eyes at the Met Gala’s little theme, “Manus x Machina: Fashion in an Age of Technology,” and instead showed up in their usual look: 400-year-old immortal witch who lives on the Upper East Side in Manhattan where by day, she runs a curiosities shop that specializes in vintage skulls of extinct animals, and by night, she sneaks into the bedrooms of sleeping children where she listens to their breathing before stealing the dreams from their dreamcatcher.
Honestly, I’d be disappointed if they did show up in some silver metallic gown and didn’t wear sacks made from the dusty curtains they snatched from an abandoned funeral home during the night. No, the Trollsens didn’t dress the theme (“What do you mean? We thought the theme was future and in the future when we take over the world, you’ll all be wearing these sacks as our sweat shop slaves.” – the Trollsens), but they did partake in Vogue’s photo booth thing. Using leftover set pieces from Michael and Janet Jackson’s “Scream” video, Vogue put together a photo booth and filmed guests doing their own thing. The Olsens did their own thing, which was to the freeze the souls of everyone with their eyes.
In your nightmares tonight, there will be a long hall and at the end of that hall you’ll find these two waiting for you. Pull out your Purell brand of holy water and prepare to spray it at the screen.
SANTO DIOS! Oh well, sleeping is overrated anyway. I don’t need it anymore.
Back in 2014, Paper Magazine tried to break the Internet with Kim Kartrashian’s greased-up plastic luau pig ass. And now, Paper Magazine is trying to break our spirits with a picture of Kylie Jenner looking like a LazyTown blow-up doll that was possessed by all the demons and now trolls the land looking to fill her triple-stuffed clown lips with the souls of her victims. Looking at this cover may be the most terrifying thing that has happened to me today and that’s saying a lot since this morning I woke up to find that I only had enough coffee for two cups. But fuck coffee. I need to switch to freebasing Drano after getting hit with Kylie looking like an anime frog whose head is getting attacked by a mutant cotton candy monster. That cover is very “Princess Lolly after Candy Land’s nuclear power plant explodes.”
This is supposed to be Paper’s “YOUth” issue, so I’m wondering why they chose a picture that makes Kylie look like she’s had all of the youth syphoned out of her. It’s terrifying and I’m sure Pimp Mama Kris handpicked this picture herself. PMK’s evil knows no bounds. But with that being said, Kylie Jenner has never looked more alive!