I wish Baha Men had cut a b-side to “Who Let the Dogs Out” called “Who Let The Cats In” because it would be a hilarious and fitting punchline to Tom Hopper‘s upcoming live-action Cats movie. This week we learned a little bit more about the movie as Universal Pictures held their 2019 CinemaCon and disclosed that the titular cats won’t be actual people. That means that instead of seeing Idris Elba and company slithering around in leotards and tights with tufts of fun-fur strategically glued on, we can expect to see something more in keeping with MC Skat Kat, which is far more disturbing.
The Queen of Soul may have also been the Queen of Debt. Aretha Franklin died in August, and she obviously left behind a legacy of music. The tax man has a different way of remembering Aretha. The IRS now claims Queen Aretha owes millions in back taxes, and let’s just hope a planned tribute concert will put a dent in that pile of debt. Continue reading
Coachella? Never heard of her. Essence Fest, step aside. The biggest and baddest music festival of the decade will be held in next Friday in Detroit, and you’d have to beg, steal, or slap on a wig and borrow somebody else’s identity, if you wanted to attend. Aretha Franklin’s homegoing celebration is scheduled for August 31, and the lineup of artists slated to perform includes Stevie Wonder, Chaka Khan, Jennifer Holliday, Jennifer Hudson, Fantasia, and a slew of other superstars from the gospel, classical, R&B worlds.
“Memoryyyyy…I still get chills when I think…of how awkward it was when….a man in a spandex cat suit slunk up to me in the audience of Caaaaaats.” Can you tell I’m still traumatized by the time fate dealt me the hand of hell by having me sit in an aisle seat for my first viewing of Cats? I am not an audience participation type, and so yeah – an aisle seat for Cats wasn’t a great experience. But I’m still a fan of Cats. So even though I cringed a little at “Taylor Swift,” I’m still into this news. Mostly because a film adaptation means there’s zero chance she’ll leap off the screen and do weird cat pantomimes around me while I try to hide behind my popcorn bag.
Nothing sells tabloids in England like transcripts of a wire-tapped phone conversation of the Royal Family or Cheryl Cole breakup rumors (what will her next last name be?!), but the latest round of relationship-on-the-rocks reports may be false…or at least not ready to be announced until some financial settlement is made. Cheryl was rumored to be in “crisis talks” with the father of her baby Liam Payne, and it wasn’t just a crisis of some of the fug fashion he rocks on Instagram. While the word was they were oh-so-close to breaking up, they both arrived to the red carpet of the BRIT Awards tonight in London looking like their usual Mrs. Robinson-and-boytoy selves. Continue reading
When you’re a question mark’s favorite pop singer and people regularly mistake you for the wall, you have to pull some shit to make people pay attention to you. Like dress yourself up as a Miss Kitty from the future who just got jumped by a gang of silkie chickens.
Clive Davis threw his annual pre-Grammy party in NYC last night, and many of the guests decided to save their better dresses for tonight’s Grammys (although, they should really just wear pajamas with an attached pillow and duvet cover, because that shit is going to be three and a half fucking hours long). Because most of them wore boring dresses bought off the rack at Macy’s (Taryn Manning’s impact!), but not Rita Ora.
Rita Ora threw feathers, fringe, bows, rhinestone and whatever else that was on sale at Michael’s onto her body. Rita looks like she just came from auditioning for the Thandie Newton role in a no-budget unauthorized Public Access reboot of Westworld that takes place way off in the future and will eventually get shut down after HBO sues. Rita is also dressed like a look-for-less Kartrashian, which is saying a lot since the Kartrashians dress like look-for-less Kartrashians.
And here’s a million more pictures from Clive Davis’ party, including Kathie Lee Gifford (who I hope wins, via write-in vote, the Best Song Grammy tonight for He Saw Jesus) and Martha Stewart, whose dogs are probably nervous that she’s going to skin and wear their asses next.