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October 31, 2003


inspiring eating disorders everywhere

Weight Watchers has offered Zelly $110,000 for each pound she sheds after her role in the Bridget sequel, in hopes of a sponsorship deal. This is morally reprehensible, people. The woman completely wasted away after the first film and now she's being encouraged to starve herself again for cash. This is sick. Are they going to give her a bonus if she starts losing her hair and missing her periods?

posted by jessica at 01:15 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack


don't tell easterbrook

panties.jpgjetershirt.gifplay ball

posted by jessica at 12:41 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack


denial is a river in egypt

menage a trois
Mark Hamill has removed Star Wars from his resume! The poor lad wants to be "known as more than the guy with the light saber." Well it's a little late for that, yo.

posted by jessica at 10:01 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack


trashy mctrasherson

Who isn't she sleeping with? Britney's new beau just might be John Cusack. This is about as odd as Sandra Bullock and Lance Armstrong--who, by the by, are both denying said rumor.

is that you, uncle buck?WTF? Macaulay Culkin has a talent hold with NBC. When will these execs learn that you simply cannot resurrect a child star? I don't care how far off the role may be from their cutesy roots--I'm just not buying it!


As if we didn't know the OC was brill, there's even more inside punnery (is that a word?) going down. Tom Shales, a TV critic who dissed the show in the pre-season, resurfaced this past episode as a patient mentioned by candy-striping Summer as being, "Like, totally incontinent." I heart Josh Schwartz & co.

it's been a rough couple of weeks, okay?Let's take a snarky moment to revel in the fact that millions of dollars and stylists can still lead you to look like shit.

And this is just AWFUL. Yes, I love dish, but what the hell is wrong with people?
story.jpg

posted by jessica at 09:43 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

October 30, 2003


julian is cheating on me

Apparently my interview with Mr. Casablancas was non-exclusive. Despite my anger at being duped by the big J, the Strokes' interview w/ Neil Strauss at the Guardian is still a good read. Not as good as mine, but nothing ever will be.

Also, there's a world record for the number of clothespins you can stick to your face--and this guy didn't win:
it's great for your pores!

posted by jessica at 10:11 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack


jump higher, bitch!

MTV has some serious programming issues. The latest is called "Camp Jim," and the inimitable Megan Lynn is gonna tell you why you care.

Okay, I admit it, I was a cheerleader. Not a competing during off-season ESPN cheerleader, but a cheerleader nonetheless. Yup. Dark secret here. I was a wholesome, private episcopal school cheerleader. That is, until I was deemed "bad for the squad" (a direct quote, I kid you not) for, well, knowing when our team had the ball and being a bit of a stickler about not yelling "defense" in such situations.

You can see then, why I might simultaneously love and revile all things cheer. The beauty of MTV's "Camp Jim", is that my love/hatred can peacefully coexist, because either way, I'm totally digging it.

Jim McMullen is a cheerleading coach who got his start on "Made". Now, he has his own show, "Camp Jim", where the "Made" people funnel the apparently unwieldy number of wannabe-cheerleader applicants that come their way. The selected girls get sent to camp, where Jim aims to turn them into cheering, dancing, jumping, stunting, crazy-ass-social-ostracizing machines. Right now, he quips, they're only on the assembly line. A lovely image Jim.

The show follows one girl each episode, each suffering from various cheer impairments...One has an issue with gravity and can't do a back handspring; Another has been home-schooled and is afraid of crowds. Jim's solution? Bitch, yell, hug, toe touch, "attack the crowd". Repeat. In fabulous fashion!

And just what qualifies Jim? Well, years of cheering at that college sports powerhouse William Patterson University, obviously. That, and being an adorably effeminate high-jumping sparkplug of a man with an endless supply of sassified self-help mantras and a disturbing physical flexibility. Really, one can't help but love him. And maybe, with enough tough love, I can get past that whole "bad for the squad" episode, and remember only the cheer-love. As Jim would say, "cry me a river, build a bridge, and get over it."

posted by jessica at 05:54 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


hmmm

new font. good, bad, ugly, or sexy?

posted by jessica at 05:27 PM | Comments (5) | TrackBack


can we get married already?

if you actually know your lit, you'll find low culture's comparison of ari fleischer's memoir to the erotic trailblazer "the story of o" to be the best damn post of the day.

posted by jessica at 12:17 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


my hard-hitting review of the o.c.

for me, the past month has been like the toilet scene in trainspotting. i've been off the o.c. and my body has not responded well. thank effing heavens that last night i got my horse-style fix of the best overly-dramatic rich kid show since 90210.

when we last saw the gang, chino ryan was clutching marissa's freshly-od'd body in a tj alley, in a pose that reminded me of something from platoon. after casually mentioning that her body was airlifted from TJ (i woulda paid to see that), we now have marissa recovering in the hospital. here we see julie cooper in her oh-so-momlike juicy sweatsuit. nice. when ryan & the cohen clan come to visit, she lets ryan know that should he come near marissa, she'll "send him back to juvie, where he belongs." ooooh, tension! will ryan ever get to be near marissa again?

oh, don't you go thinking this is the only conflict! no, evil julie cooper (now wearing a very cute tube top, because all moms wear tube tops) wants to put marissa in a mental institution. jimmy cooper (whose teeth are really bad, btw) won't have that, but no matter--julie makes arrangements behind his back! bitch! thankfully, when you're on suicide-watch in a psych ward, they keep your cell phone right next to your bed, so marissa can call the gang to get her out. it's a good thing summer is a candy-striper and can sneak marissa out of the hospital before they put her in a straight jacket--but wait! luke shows up! will he let marissa run away? you bet--he even helps a little. why? because ever since luke got shot, he's got a heart-o-gold.

but where will the gang run to? ultimately, the cohen's manse provides safe haven for chino to tell marissa's mom to back off. how does he do it? well, they're both from the 818 and they can relate, yo. after some stern sassing and distant gazes, ryan lets julie know that she's the problem. go, chino, go! the lesson here is that kids can talk smack to snooty adults, especially if you share the same white trash roots. julie ain't buying it, but she's off the case for now. chino gets a sultry kiss on the cheek from marissa--my heart skipped a beat!

b-plot: ryan gets into harbor school, which is so much better than those nasty newport public schools. seth is awkwardly moving in on summer, but she's like, ew! julie cooper wants to sue jimmy for custody, but that's on hold since chino set things straight. sandy cohen's eyebrows are too liberal for his law firm and the missus isn't liking his hot (but gnarly-toothed) coworker. and just in case the loose ends tied up a bit too neatly this episode (which i think they did), we have next weeks spoiler: SEE THE FIRST KISS (which is on a ferris wheel, natch).

And exhale. In between commercials, we caught Bachie Bob diss Meredith and be honestly moved by Mary's father's speech, even though he couldn't understand a word of what the dad was saying. My pick for the long haul is Kelly Jo. She's got the michigan thing and she totally hearts Bob.

posted by jessica at 12:06 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack


meet paris at the bike racks

after school, yo, because she's gonna kick some Shannen Doherty derriere! Tomorrow night is the Floosie Lingerie show (aptly named, eh?) at the Roxy and Paris is modeling--Shannen will be in attendance, despite the fact that the last time they met, hair was pulled. I wish I was A-list just so I could watch stuff like this go down. Oh, and so I could drink for free.

Also, heard on the radio but can't find a link to it yet, Timberlake is considering auctioning Brit's old love letters on eBay. Ridunculous.

posted by jessica at 10:39 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


worst. morning. ever.

you'd think because my boss is outta town i'd be chilling, but oh no. it took me ONE HOUR to drive the FIVE MILES to work (that means I was driving 5 mph, fyi, just like grandma). while i was sitting in traffic, i noticed that i was surrounded on all sides by luxury vehicles: the H2, a new jag, the carrera 5, and a bmw 725. this natch made me feel angry and bruised the ego of my luverly jetta. the nature of stop and go traffic made me lose half of my coffee on the dashboard. when i finally get to work supa-late, the phones are ringing off the hook and agents are asking me questions about deals and $$ issues, as if I have the faintest clue as to how many thousands of dollars D-List Dolly is negotiating. and for those of you haven't had the pleasure of dealing with LA's finest bigwigs, lucky you. had to vent, sorry.

Everyone knows they're engaged even though "they're not engaged," but it looks like a June wedding for Gwyneth and Chris Martin. Blahblahblah.

Good news: Da Ali G show has been renewed. I'd like to see him as a Daily Show correspondent, myself.

Page Six runs a brief about scary Jocelyn Wildenstein consulting Philip Bloch about her outfit for some gala. While it's a good sighting, I have to question their judgement in running a picture of her. Halloween or not, this is not appropriate for kids.
purrr, baby, purrr

Check back in a bit for my hard-hitting review of the OC--sure to be tasteful like Julie Cooper's tube top!

posted by jessica at 10:26 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

October 29, 2003


it's official

Paris has lost her long locks (or extensions); short hair definitely highlights the cocaine-face. Faux pas, Paris, faux pas!
where's my dealer?

posted by jessica at 05:12 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack


one step closer to hell

we just a had a bit of an earthquake here. sweet.

posted by jessica at 03:46 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


blogariffic

Looks like some shifty cast work is going down. Scout Productions, which is the force behind the Queer Eye, placed an ad on craigslist looking for some new fabulous men.

Speaking of fabulous, the kausfiles over at Slate has a great article heralding the beauty of the blog as journalism's latest weapon. Clearly!

Across the pond, the sticky icky has been reclassified as a level c drug; all that means is if you get caught with the ganj, the bobbies will scold you and then run off with your spliff, leaving you to go get some more on your own. Which I know you will, you addict.

For all you techies, the prices on the cool-ass flat-screen wall-mounting tvs that all the rappers have are dropping soon. Which means that I might be able to afford one in a million years.

NY Daily News runs another freaking Nicole Kidman bio as their top Entertainment story. ENOUGH ALREADY. We all know how lovely and powerful she is so just stop talking about it before she gets any more skeletoresque.

And finally, in honor of halloween, Scary Politicians! we both like to sleep with kennedys!

posted by jessica at 03:19 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


this one's for the kids

Well, well, well. Before I even get to launch into my opinion of MTV's Rich Girls, Uncle Grambo's already got freaking Ally Hilfiger emblazoned on his site. not that i'm surprised, mind you, but i want to make a disclaimer and profess my adoration of grambo before i completely assault this damn show (and mark, let me remind you that's she's practically 12 compared to you...sorry, but it's true). that being said, allow me to quote CrapKit's comment during the torturous 15 minutes we watched:

"I want to beat these girls to death with my left flip-flop."

While I wouldn't waste my old school reefs on Ally and her cohort, Jamie whatever, I did have the sudden urge to vomit all over my duvet. The concept behind this show is simple: Follow around two of the most spoiled little shits in NYC and see what they're really like. Perhaps they decided to participate in this show to dispel stereotypes, but they reinforced my preconceived notions to a degree I couldn't have imagined. I understand that these girls are just high-schoolers and are therefore retarded by nature, but I can't believe how disgusted I am by them. They traipse about from Bendel to Saks to Barney's in a limo, and spend more money in an afternoon than I make in THREE MONTHS.

But that's not why I abhor these girls. I abhor them because of their sense of self-importance and entitlement. Which contributes to their overall idiocy. Ally actually said quite gravely, "My dad invented Cargo Pants, yknow. And then everyone stole them from him. So I won't wear them." Way to be loyal to Daddy! Jamie debates when she's going to sleep with some guy while she gets her Fekkai pedicure. Both of them get to try on haute couture clothes with their designer friend, Michael H (who is no doubt Ally's skanky cousin), in some top-secret warehouse. Am I jealous? You bet. But my envy is filled with scorn because these ladies have no clue how the world works. And they're jappier than every sorority girl I know. Plus, Tommy Hilfiger isn't a real designer. Cmon now. And the real horror: Ally and I share a birthday. Ew like Chino!

posted by jessica at 12:04 PM | Comments (18) | TrackBack

October 28, 2003


just in time for halloween

The CIA has built a robot catfish spybot. Y'know, to spy on...algae and stuff.

posted by jessica at 09:33 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


go low

The boys (or girls?) at low culture have me grinning yet again. guy cimbalo does a phenom job of articulating the strokes' new record in everyone else's words.

Halloween is popular and MSNBC talks about the "sexy costume" popularity. Which is the one thing I hate about halloween. Listen kids, Halloween is a time to be anyone, anything you want for one night. Quit being so damn predictable. You can be a whore any day of the week, just ask the girls at Forever 21.

posted by jessica at 03:51 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack


tina ballerina

the new yorker has this great profile on tina fey. no, it's not dishworthy but it's a busy day here and i'm busting my chops, yo.

and do you know what tomorrow is???

posted by jessica at 03:36 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack


somebody's gotta do it

thank heavens for brad pitt and jennifer aniston! america's most aesthetically-pleasing couple has made a public statement announcing that they intend to do something about the violence in the middle east. pitt and aniston hope to appeal to the "ordinary folk" over there. Meanwhile, the israelis and palestinians couldn't give a flying f and wanted friends to be cancelled seasons ago.
we TOTALLY 'get' suicide bombers, yknow?

posted by jessica at 10:37 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


frugal diddy

We all knew P. Diddy was a threat to humanity, but apparently his clothing line, sean john, is shooting for some human rights violations down in Honduras. Good for you, Puff, I admire that you're spreading your criminal activities to different genres.

What's up with Jeanette Walls and The Scoop as of late? The content is not so hot and they are updating less frequently. I'm disappointed overall, and on my morning dish-seeking rounds, the Scoop is falling lower and lower on the priority list.

I know I just mentioned Kutchie and Punk'd yesterday, but this is too good to ignore: Missy Elliot gets borderline ballistic when she's a victim on the MTV show. I can't wait for Ashton to punk some felon like C-Murder and get himself killed for it.

The Daily Dish today is superb. A recap: Benny Medina, known as the power-mgr of J.Lo, has taken his talents to Mariah Carey. He put a halt to her book deal, which has some people sniffing, but I think that's a wise choice. Do you really want to read about her nervous breakdown post-Glitter? Meanwhile, Ja Rule and 50 Cent are working through their differences with the aid of everyone's favorite therapist, Louis Farrakhan. God help us all should they choose to channel their anger towards some of Mr. Farrakhan's favorite targets.

I was listening to NPR while I was stuck in traffic this morning, so I got to hear another always-articulate Q & A with el presidente Bushie. Somehow, he managed to COMPLETELY FAIL TO ANSWER A SINGLE QUESTION. It's been awhile since I've given our top buffoon my attention, but I was delighted to hear that he's using the phrase "evil-doers." I just love that one.

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October 27, 2003


rat pack trucker hat

i'm no ashton kutcher fan, but simon dumenco at newyorkmetro.com articulates what it is about Punk'd that is captivating. it's an interesting read and is hardly praising of kutcher--but not derogatory either. wait, that makes good journalism, doesn't it? whoa...

posted by jessica at 05:56 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack


make it stop!

In case you can't shut your kiddies up for the commute, there will soon be a bullet train from the Orlando Airport to DisneyWorld. As if they couldn't suck up your money fast enough. Leeches! All of them, leeches!

Back in hollyhood, Alyssa Milano wanted to save Justin T. from being Punk'd. Apparently, she and Shannen Doherty think what Kutchie did to JT was just cruel, since the poor kid was crying and all. Nononono, ladies, cruel is forcing someone to watch your crappy witch show. JT crying is a great moment in television history.

posted by jessica at 04:58 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


kickstart my heart

All my Crue-heads out there are gonna love this news, via coolfer: Motley Crue is scheduled to release a 4-disc anthology entitled "Music to Crash Your Car to Vol 1." Any of us who've read The Dirt know why this is just a stupid title. But did we expect class and compassion for past deeds? Hell no! Which reminds me, I really need to get my Motley Crue Tour of LA put together asap.

I picked up The Walkmen last night (and by picked up, I mean downloaded, because I'm poor right now) and I must say that my ears are liking them very much. Very Modest Mouse meets Interpol (because I can't think of any original way to describe them). I totally listened to them because Reptilia suggested it, and I'm a slave to anyone who reads what I write.

posted by jessica at 03:24 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack


grapes of plath

There's a great David Edelstein review of "Sylvia" on Slate. I still haven't seen the damn thing, but I really wish all of this intellectual debate had been going on while I was slaving over my behemoth thesis. It would've helped to have some modern academia weigh in, as opposed to all of the dusty old sludge I had to dig through, making my project all the more haunting. Ah, the bitter irony. Anyhoo, Edelstein brings up a beautiful point about tragic artists and suicide:

It's a shame that Plath's workíŸÓand her biopicíŸÓmust be framed by that suicide, as if the life itself were less interesting than the leaving of it. When Nirvana first broke out, Greil Marcus said they sounded as if they'd just managed to crawl out of bed and pick up their heavy guitars and overcome their despair long enough to record. To me, those songs weren't the same after Kurt Cobain blew his brains out: They were more exhilarating when I knew that he was still among us, fighting it out with his demons. (The same is true of Elliott Smith.) Plath's poetry is more moving if you imagine a world in which she didn't kill herself; and a movie that begins with her fetishizing her own death is like a forced march to the gallows. It's also undramaticíŸÓit takes Plath too much on her own terms. I was offended by the shot of Paltrow when she turns on the gas and is bathed in white light, radiantly transfigured in her final moments.
I can only imagine what romanticized depiction is used for that final shot. Enough already. And on a purely aesthetic note, gwyneth has got the look down:
i'm sylviano, i'm sylvia

posted by jessica at 12:13 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack


Cheers to LA Observed for

Cheers to LA Observed for demonstrating the TV priorities of la-la-land in times of crises:

With brush fires continuing to spread blown by Santa Ana winds, Channels 2, 4 and 9 are staying live with coverage. Channel 7 is airing "The View" instead, Channel 5 is going with Larry Springer and Channel 11, which has reporter Rod Bernsen out eating smoke and a chopper in the field, has switched to "Ambush Makeover."

posted by jessica at 11:19 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


wax on, wax off

Sharon Waxman has been named NYT's Hollywood correspondent. This is a big deal since, as the LA Weekly gushes, the NYT correspondent is arguably one of the most important and coveted jobs in the industry. Funny, I thought my job was the most coveted in hollyhood.

posted by jessica at 11:16 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


politically minded, kinda

I'm seriously buzzing on a highly potent mix of Sudafed and DayQuil, but that's not what I wanted to write about. Last night I watched "Bowling for Columbine" (yeah, i'm always behind on hot topical stuff like this, but i'm a busy gal) while simultaneously ironing for the first time in months, and I put that there iron down a few times in shock. First of all, I've never seen all of the footage from Columbine and that alone is horrifying. Secondly, I just about flipped my little lid when I heard how many Lockheed Martin (aka our nation's largest weapons manufacturer) employees had kids that went to Columbine. I fell in love with Michael Moore when he brought two Columbine victims, both of whom have bullets (purchased at Kmart) permanently lodged in them, to Kmart's [former] headq in Troy, Mi, to voice their concerns. The Michigan Militia footage made me ever so proud of my homeland's northern regions. And finally, I was utterly disgusted by Moses himself, Charlton Heston, and his rifle-toting groupies in the NRA, who made a nice point of holding rallies just weeks after school shootings in Littleton, CO and Flint, MI. When is enough enough? Ultimately, I appreciated the Michael Moore didn't make the film a pulpit for gun control (which would've been easy to do), mostly because of his comparisons to our northern neighbors in Canada--who have millions of guns themselves but aren't freaking out with them like we are. Major props to the footage of south central, which is my old teaching turf.

Meanwhile, I'm getting even more hot and bothered over the state of the nation (and not in the cute way) by Greg Palast. Before you know it, I'm going to be burning my bra and declaring anarchy.

I know this is a not-so-entertaining post, but a girl has to pontificate, yknow?

posted by jessica at 11:04 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack


state on fire

Furthering my theory that SoCal is destined to break off from the continental US and float out to sea, where we will be forced to survive in a manner similar to "Lord of the Flies," the wildfires have covered all sides of the LA basin and don't seem to be letting up. A public officer from San Bernadino was on the radio this morning and said that of the 80,000 fires in his county alone, only 5% have been contained. The blaze has reached the Malibu canyons and that means they're pretty darn close to my 'hood. Yesterday it smelled like a campfire all over the place. The general smog has definitely intensified to a dark gray everywhere. bad news bears, yo.

In lighter "news," Sanda Bullock and Lance Armstrong are an item. Which is just kind of weird. Also weird and also from Imdb (they're apparently having a PHC day, if you will): David Blaine has disappeared from his hospital. Oh, those crazy magicians. And speaking of crazy, Marlon Brando has been diagnosed with congestive heart failure. In anticipation of his own death, he's left detailed instructions as to his services, which include a request for Jacko to say a few kind words. Just another reason to leave the kids at home.

Interesting article in the Guardian about how rock music actually promotes clean, drug-free livin'. The sampling of lyrics they choose as being representative of this trend are not so convincing, however. Honestly, Spiritualised is good enough but are they representative of a rock-n-roll movement? Survey says nope.

Acc'd to NME, the Forbes list for dead celebrities' income is out and once again, Elvis is still the king.
If things slow down today, I'll delve into this list later. Meanwhile, enjoy this image of what Elvis would look like had he not gone to the loo that fateful day.
Little less conversation, a little more metamucil...

posted by jessica at 09:21 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

October 24, 2003


no country of mine

would dare deport Slick Rick! Yet that's what's going down, kiddies. How can this happen when Guido, the guatemalean drug lord who lives here illegally, can get a CA drivers' license? I don't understand this biznizz.

can we keep him, ma, can we?

posted by jessica at 05:57 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


art imitates life

A Dresden opera features barbies doing naughty things. Apparently Ken isn't involved and Barbie's playing for the other team nowadays. Image might be safe for work, as it's just a barbie...

posted by jessica at 04:23 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


the evil empire extends its reach

Disney's Concert Hall finally opens after $276 million is dumped into it. BBC has a nice report on it that doesn't have all the LA PR hyping. Dinner last night was $1500 per guest, if you wanted to be there. But I know you didn't. The irony of this is that (1) this mega-million dollar monstrosity is kinda in the hood and (2) it's really ugly. I like Gehry, I do, but this just doesn't sit well with me. And yes, Liza was there.
dizzshizz

posted by jessica at 02:37 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack


he's too good for you, too

Larry Fishburne used to be my lovah, but now I'm having doubts. Apparently he's too hoity-toity to talk to honest and unabashed journalists like those on the internet. Celebs like him will jet us back to the stone age.

posted by jessica at 12:58 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


rant

Apparently, David Bowie's ex-wife's daughter (which sounds a bit like the time my best friend's brother's cousin's buddy and his girlfriend saw Ferris pass out at 31 flavors last night), Stasha Lipka, was raped and beaten by a drug dealer. This is terrible and I would never make light of it, but I MUST comment on the fact that the family asked Page Six to report on the incident so as to encourage the authorities to look for her attacker. Page Six? The mecca of tidbits? What the hell? Why would you ever, ever belittle a tragedy by asking what is ultimately a gossip column to report on it? Have these people ever heard of the actual news section? I can understand their idea of getting a wide audience for this poor girl's story, but when you put something like this in a gossip column it becomes just that: gossip. Why would you want to triviliaze this? Ugh, I'm going to boot.

posted by jessica at 12:42 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


My hard-hitting interview with Julian Casablancas

But before I get to that, let me just rave. Last night's Strokes show at the Shrine was phenom. So freaking good. Even better than when I saw them at St. Andrews in 2001. And as opposed to playing their album straight through, as they are wont to do, they had a nice balance of old and new. In brief:

-Kings of Leon opened. I was there in time, but you couldn't bring any bevs into the auditorium, so I didn't see them. We had to prioritize in favor of getting my drink on before the boys came out. (what would ultragrrl think of this?)
-A fight broke out in the balcony. Fists were a-flyin' and we were a-laughin'. Who fights at The Strokes?
-Took us about 4 tries of wandering about to find our ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE SEATS.
-I can't remember the whole setlist. But they closed with Last Nite and I remember thinking Reptilia sounded even better live. They also played Soma, Someday, and New York City Cops. New songs included What Ever Happened, 12:51, The Way it Is, and The End has no End.
-Julian was throwing glasses of champagne all over the place. Fabrizio was amazing, managing to smoke and drum like a mutha at the same time. Nikolai was typically forlorn and Nick is def using heroin. Albert played on his knees and then pushed over some amps. Fabrizio trashed his drum kit too. I told you the 80's were back!

After the show, I decided to do something very uncharacteristic of me: I went and hung out at the stage door like a groupie. I've never done this before, but it was very interesting given my buzz. Nikolai went straight to the bus right away and by himself--weird, considering everyone else was carousing inside. After watching them push all the high school kiddies out of the parking lot, I made friends with the door guys and the british roadies by telling them I was a reporter (and I am, right guys?) and that my story wasn't on the Strokes, but rather the backstage efforts that go into a big show. Ah, trust is gained! Union 33 is now my best friend.
Before long I was standing on the stage of the Shrine while the roadies are chatting with me and complimenting my "pointy" shoes. The band and their groupies were in a party downstairs, which was letting out just as I weaseled my way in--Albert had some leggy blonde and they left first. Out comes freakishly skinny Nick and another leggy blonde (a theme is developing here). Then I spot Drew Barrymore and Fabrizio walking towards me, practically entwined with one another in a gross cuddle fest. Drew smokes Marlboro reds, btw, and is much smaller than she looks. I digress. I spot my goal: Julian is stumbling around with a grolsch behind everyone. I confidently walk over and try to think of a question (since I'm a reporter and all). I come up to him and his british "handler" and here, as promised, is my hard-hitting interview:

me: Hey Julian, great show, I've just got a quick question and--
brit: You shouldn't be here.
Julian (slurring):Huh what slurslurmumblemumble
me: Well I already am here, no trouble. Julian, what do you think of your developing fan base of obsessive high school kids?
brit: You need to leave now.
Julian: I have no idea what you just said, huh heh huh mumbleslurmumble
(julian falls into the brit handler who then shuffles him out of my way)

I expect that all major publications will be clamoring at my door. Yes, I am available.

posted by jessica at 10:01 AM | Comments (82) | TrackBack

October 23, 2003


they should make a vincent gallo action figure

because then we could make him knock boots with our ann coulter doll. barbie and ken will be present, no doubt.
complete with strands of coulter's REAL hair
(thanks gawker, but i can't believe you didn't make a gallo ref)

posted by jessica at 04:37 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


when will the world series be over?!

Because I be needing me some OC! Props to Megan Lynn for her OC Party E-Vite:

Will "Chino" be able to dramatically carry Marissa's lifeless body from TJ to Newport? Will Seth crack jokes and look awkward? How many times will Summer say "ew" while wearing just a bra/bikini top? Have Peter Gallagher's eyebrows grown even larger since we last saw them?
All these questions and more, answered next Wednesday! Come to Megan and Wade's in the W.L.A., we'll order some dinner and get ready for a night of hot, excessively rich, angst-ridden, Orange County teen action. Get your ass there, Or I'll totally beat up your Dad at your debutante ball, embarassing your entire family. I'm serious.

I can't WAIT for this show to come back. What is wrong with me??

posted by jessica at 03:15 PM | Comments (5) | TrackBack


i don't like talking about my flair

Ahh, Page 2, how you make me giggle. This time the would-be screenwriters have given us a sequel to Office Space--starring Bugel and Fazio as consultants for the Redskins, who have a case of the Mondays.

Speaking of office space, I am:

Pre-Hyptnotized Peter, but who isn't?


What Office Space character are you?
brought to you by Quizilla, natch.

posted by jessica at 02:29 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


jumping into the debate way late

so i bought stellastar* a couple of weeks ago even though their musical validity has been hotly contested (tiffing between glamorama and whatevs seems to have mellowed). I bought it b/c I liked the one single I could get off of kazaa, Somewhere Across Forever. Well, having given it lots of listens, I am now going to sell it back to Amoeba. I hate it. Interpol gone wrong. very very wrong with a side of fries. and yes, i know i'm not the first to say this. so what.

posted by jessica at 12:37 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack


i have a little crush

on Gawker's Choire Sicha, but he needs to chat with me more before he posts:

Perhaps the first reality show with a little reality, "Average Joe" pits one female former cheerleader against 16 normal guys. The Daily News writes: "'The casting was a little complicated,' said executive producer Stuart Krasnow. 'Part of our show was wanting to find guys who didn't look like - how do I say this politically correct? - who weren't hot guys.'
The cast includes men who are fat, short, bald or tall."
Cripes! They're putting fat people on TV now! Somewhere in Brentwood, Aaron Spelling is tearing at his face.

Choire, Choire, Choire, Aaron Spelling lives in Holmby Hills, m'dear. On Mapleton, FYI. And my darling friend and fellow wolverine,Brad, is on Average Joe, so watch whatcha say. He's at least as handsome as Bachelor Bob, who was the original fat guy on tv.

Speaking of da Bachelor, I've been meaning to talk about Senor Guiney for a while now. I met Bob at the finale party of The Bachelorette in ROC during a visit home, and he was pleasant but not nearly as funny as his Bachelorette persona. Which leads me to my problems with this season of the Bach: Bob is just too vanilla. He doesn't give us any dirt on what he's thinking or feeling, and it's annoying as all hell. Last week a girl said something like, "My family lives in Memphis," and Bob blabbers about how she "really opened up to him." What? What a joke. Last night Meredith pointed out that it's ridiculous for Bob to say he likes all the women the same, and I agree. Let's get honest, Bobby--quit smooching every single girl and start telling us who's got it and who doesn't. Although when conceited Lee Ann was denied a rose last night, my apartment was cheering as if the Cubbies had gone to the series.
'I am SUCH a catch.'This girl is a serious nutjob. If she had spit game before this show, she sure as hell isn't going to ever again.

posted by jessica at 11:58 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


tonight's the night

The video for 12:51 (hurrah!) is available on the strokes' site. It's a total Tron takeoff, and ya'll know how we looove Tron. Maybe I'll wear a tron t-shirt tonight and the boys will see it 'cause i'm gonna be so darn close to them!

Also, sadly enough, the Demi-Ashton marriage buzz is untrue, as confirmed by Demi on her call to the awful Rick Dees show (scroll down, the audio is there). Tangent time: Why the hell do people listen to Rick Dees? He's the most annoying man on earth! What's worse is that celebrities love the sack of cheesepuffs because he won't talk shite about anyone. Which just makes him all the worse and less credible, because he just loves everything and thinks everybody is sooo great. So everybody interviews with Dees! He's the epitome of prozac and sunshine and he's the last goddamn thing I want to hear on my morning commute. Exhale.

The Rapture is going to be on Conan tonight. I'm going to be rocking out with julian, so can someone tape or tivo this for me and then loan me their vcr or tivo?

posted by jessica at 11:04 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack


good morning, children

For all of my loathing of LA, of particular irritation to me is the time diff. I get to work and everyone else in blogsville is already up on everything, and i'm left scrambling for some sloppy seconds. Nevertheless, I shall report what I can with fearless bias and aplomb.

BENNIFER UPDATE! BEN AFFLECK'S CAREER SPIRALS DOWNWARD!

We all expected this, but now it's getting official. The front page blurb in The Hollywood Reporter relays the info that Ben's latest Disney project, "The Ghosts of Girlfriends Past," has been sacked just FOUR WEEKS before production was slated to begin. In regular life terms, this is like leaving someone at the altar:

"Disney declined to comment on the decision. But it is believed that in addition to the film's expected high cost, another contribuing factor was Affleck's tarnished image."
Tarnished? That's the best adjective they could come up with?

Geri Halliwell and Jerry O'Connell are splitsville, which was obvious even before it was yesterday's news. Well, in case you care, she got a dog to "help her thru the breakup" (acc'd to the always insinuating Sun). Blessed copyright laws won't allow me to post the picture of the pup here, but he's a purebred pom. Check him out and before ya do, look at my mixed pom, the inimitable Rufus J. Dog, aka Sir Barksalot. Eff purebreds, Geri, Rufus is the real deal:
clearly i am adorable.
Not that Rufus has the slightest bit of importance to the world of filthy gossip and random tidbits, but he's just great. And if Geri Halliwell's furball can get press, so can mine. Anyhoo, I digress.

Also from across the pond: Our precious CrapKit's Australian Rules Football Champion and expatriate brother, Andrew, was enjoying a Kir Royale in a Dublin pub the other night (why a brawny grown man was drinking this, I dunno, but apparently it's not a metrosexual thing over there) when a bloke next to him leaned over and said, "That's a nice drink you've got there." Andrew, fearing that his Kir Royale had attracted some undesirable attention, half-glanced over and mumbled, "Yeah, um whatever." But a double take revealed that the undesirable attention was coming from none other than the highly-desirable Robbie Williams! Happy conversation without celeb-gushing ensued and we know now that Robbie Williams is indeed a friend of the common kir royale-drinking man.

posted by jessica at 10:22 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

October 22, 2003


job hunting, are we?

From the zany kids over at craig's comes a job for us industry folks looking to lose our day jobs:

Reply to: job-18099925@craigslist.org (forwards to an @hotmail.com address) Date: 2003-10-22, 8:18AM


Do you have the "inside track" on Hollywood happenings not yet covered
anywhere, but lack the publishing credits or interest to write them for
publication? Can you provide story angles and get interviews with top
Hollywood celebrities? Are you an actor/actress, producer, or other
industry professional with access to "inside" information?

I'm a highly published freelance writer (Entertainment Weekly, Us
Weekly, dozens more) seeking exclusive, verifiable, not-yet-covered or
announced entertainment story scoops for online and weekly offline media
outlets. I'm also seeking ideas for more in-depth news-driven feature
stories and/or interviews for some online outlets and print magazines
(Entertainment Weekly, Us Weekly, Details, Maxim, Advocate, Playboy,
etc.). Ideally you are "in" the industry as noted in the first paragraph
(actor/actress, producer for a network show, etc.) and in a position to
have knowledge of these happenings (for example, items simply overheard
may not always work, and it helps if you can act as a source and/or
provide access to sources). I and/or the publication(s) will verify
accuracy before stories are used, so they must be fully accurate and
legit. A look at the publications listed above will provide an idea of
what I'm looking for.

If interested, please send a BRIEF summary of your background, position,
and ability to provide scoops (NO ATTACHMENTS) along with a contact
phone number. If I'm interested I'll contact you to discuss it further.
Pay starts at $100 per item (pay is per idea used, with a draw on fees
available to highly qualified candidate(s). All compensation details
will be agreed upon in writing before any work begins or any ideas are
exchanged, and you'll be required to sign a non-disclosure and
confidentiality agreement at the outset.

Thanks for your interest!


(thanks to hasmik for the 411)

posted by jessica at 04:55 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


living beyond our means

to answer the Old Hag's question regarding the quaint LA bungalow lifestyle: they're sort of like the Friends equivalent of NYC housing, but not exactly. See, all houses are bungalows out here (unless they're sprawling estates or large manors), so Boomtown and Jerry Maguire def have the look down. The catch is their affordability, which totally depends on the neighborhood. You can get a nice one like Zellwegger had with her sis, but you might be paying 500k even in the Valley (which is not so fun). If you want one in Santa Monica (ocean), Bev Hills (no explanation needed), Brentwood (OJ!), or the Hills (views!), you're looking at over a mil, easy. Real estate here is brutal, check this out.

posted by jessica at 04:33 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


not that i'm obsessed

with Britney (like some blogs I know--no linking necessary there), but this was just too creepy to go unnoticed. Madame Tussaud's in London has updated their display with a pole-dancing Britney, complete with live dancers. Visitors will be able to practice their moves with the wax figure. Sick.
me against the wax

posted by jessica at 04:18 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack


coulda been better

While I haven't even come close to delving through all of LA Weekly's Best of LA '03, I have a few immediate comments:
1. It's TOO much. Inaccessibly big. Hard to carry. I'm all for awesome loads of free content, but I don't even know where to start with this thing.
2. The cover is lame. How in the world does this signify what's cool about LA? Well, very little actually is cool about LA, but this ain't it either:
riding my bike across la is quicker than taking the freeway.  yipee.

posted by jessica at 01:06 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack


i'm on fire

As earlier promised, here's my thoughts re: new Strokes' Room on Fire. Please remember, this is my first pseudo-real music review so don't expect me to be brilliant (you do, however, have my permission to be pleasantly surprised by moments of brilliance should they occur). And I'm trying to listen and write in the spurts when da boss steps out.

The anticipation of this freaking disc was making me so itchy--and then to receive it a week before I anticipated and as a random act of kindness--that I probably could have put a piece of toast in the cd player, named it Fabrizio, and been as happy as a clam. So I've waited a good 36 hours before really analyzing it, and it is with intellectual glee that I announce that the 80's are back. But that's a good thing.

Maybe it was the synth-guitar that clued me in. The album opens with "What Ever Happened?", which begins with edgy-pop riffs reminded me of the first album's perkier tunes, but within a minute the synth pop kicks in. At first, I was dismayed; it sounded a bit too pre-fab. But after a few listens, I realized the bubbly rhythms provide a delectable balance to Julian's grainy vocals. "What Ever Happened?" is actually a great kickoff song--just as the tune grows from old riffs to a new sound, Room on Fire picks up where Is This It? left off. No, adding the synth isn't groundbreaking, but who cares. It's fun.

"Reptilia" follows the same formula, a little less synth until the chorus, but still worthy of Ditteaux's editrix's handle. There's something amusing about hearing the bouncy rhythms set off by Julian's moaning, "I'm not gonna give you a break/I'm not your friend/I never was." Luverly nonetheless. I didn't like "Automatic Stop," but maybe it's because it doesn't fit in the album. If it weren't for the incessant bouncing bass, it'd be almost like a classic rock tune--the guitar solo, while quality, just doesn't fit. But children, don't fret, "12:51" is freaking fabulous. I'm a dancing queen. If you could call a band that's only released two albums classic, this would be classic Strokes. Melodic, bouncy, cursing, just enough 80s synth to fit but not so much as to overwhelm (which some other tracks are guilty of). They still can't kick the guitar solo habit, but this one flows much better. "Between Love and Hate" is also quite noteworthy.

Rather than to give a continuous play-by-play of the album, let me just say this: The Strokes are back. Are they brand new and improved? No. Not as edgy. Are they exactly the same? Kinda-sorta but not really. They're still really fab-tastic and enjoyable as all hell. The sound has changed but not in extremely noticeable ways. Nothing wrong with that. A tasty treat for all. More on this after tomorrow night's show. I have to cut this short now, as bossman is back and things need to be done...

posted by jessica at 10:38 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack


britney's sorry

And she's going to chain smoke her way through musical apologies.

posted by jessica at 09:48 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


just because

i love the internet, and the internet loves elijah--but he is very, very gay.

posted by jessica at 09:34 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


morning mix

Klosterman's article inspired me to stalk down a used copy of Original Pirate Material, even though I'm at least a year behind on the whole Streets movement. But whatever, yo, I only paid $7 bucks at Second Spin b/c I'm so fashionably late. And guess what? I looooove it. And not that I want to gush about his looks, but he is def a cutie-patootie. More fuel to my anglophile fire, no doubt. Gangsta rap and tha dirty souf is ouuut, innocent blokes with dodgy accents are in. Let's all be geezers. Julian, it's over, I'm with Mikey S now.

On a completely unreleated note, I work uber-hard. That's why my boss has a copy of this week's Star Magazine on her desk (and why is it called a mag? everyone in their right mind knows it's a frigging tab). I don't have a scanner so I can't relay the visual delight of this week's issue, but here are some hot items:

-Ryan Sutter (aka Trista the Bachelorette's biotch of choice, getting married 11/26 on ABC) is "moonlighting as a model in the holiday issue of International Male, the 'clothing' catalog known for mesh tank tops, banana hammock thongs and sparkly dinner jackets." If you're not familiar with IM, I suggest you become versed in it ASAP. And if you could see this pic of Sutter wearing a pink velvet pinstriped suit, you'd understand why this item is sooo important.
-Anna Kournikova is snapped while smoking. She then tried to hide the cancer stick. Not that we'd care, but she does have some healthy athletic sponsorships.
-Doctors perform a "secret" brain surgery to save Roy's life. Why? (p.s. website is really funny)
-A play-by-play analysis of Gwen & Gavin's Los Feliz lifestyle. The hipsters must fainting in their vintage tees.
-Lara Flynn Boyle is "too thin to work." Well, clearly! Apparently her lack of flesh is keeping her from getting some roles. Good.

posted by jessica at 09:32 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack


so sad

Elliot Smith has died of an apparent suicide (info via whatevs & nme). His spokesman hasn't confirmed details, but Elliot didn't seem like the kind of guy to pull a hoax like this.

posted by jessica at 07:10 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

October 21, 2003


i can't stop posting

via Neal Pollack Invasion:

During his opening statement Mr. Muhammad said, ퟙOne of the things I like -- I like reading and learning about words. One of the things I was fascinated in coming into this strange world to me is three truths. The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.ퟘ He then said, ퟙThere are three keys to this case: monkeys, donkeys, and turkeys. Can I go back to sniping people now?ퟘ Good luck, John!

Also, the screener ban is off, acc'd to e!

REACHING A COMPROMISE: Hoping to calm the uproar from the indie film community, Hollywood studios and the Motion Picture Association of America decide to lift their controversial screener ban for Oscar voters only, Variety reports. However, to keep the volume down and halt piracy, the ban will remain in place for other groups such as directors, actors, writers and members of the press.

posted by jessica at 05:56 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack


liza i know thee not

Didn't see this one coming: Liza Minelli wore the pants in her short but freakish marriage to David Gest. Gest alleges that Liza, often in a drunken rage, beat him frequently--resulting in him having to take 11 medications a day for various ailments, the most interesting of which would have to be the "scalp tenderness" mentioned in his $11 mil lawsuit against Liza. Also of interest is his comment than when she was knackered, she would come after him with "incredible force and strength." Liza's defense has yet to release an official statement. Perhaps VH1 should have kept their reality show; it would have been like an old and unattractive "Newlyweds" for the hamptons' retirement crowd.

posted by jessica at 05:27 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack


i knew it was good for me.

I've been trying to reduce my daily cup of joe from a venti to a grande, in the interest of $ and my unhealthy caffeine addiction (headaches! headaches!). but research shows that my colon may be all the better because of my daily grinds. And we all know why colons are important, don't we kids?
hideeeho!

posted by jessica at 04:26 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


i don't get it

NYT changes their font from one bland thing to another (link via adam on TMFTML's comments ). The difference is barely noticeable, yet some big bloggers are furiously pounding their keyboards about this. Pourquoi? Let's focus on something interesting, such as the release of Basement Jaxx's Kish Kash today. What do we think of JC Chasez lending vocals? While I love the jaxx, the use of an n'sync member cancels out any extra fabness that they gained from their brilliant, monkey-infused video for "Where's Your Head At."

posted by jessica at 04:07 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack


mel gibson, you are not alone

Sarah Left at the Guardian does a great job of compiling all of the nutty conspiracy theories on the net. Dad, I imagine that you already check most of these websites pretty regularly.

Also from the Guardian, Georgia's govt decides to actually protect the privacy of even law-abiding citizens. Governor Sonny Purdue should be applauded--but since he's not abiding with the feds, he must be a terrorist. That's how it works, right?

posted by jessica at 12:12 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack


horrible afflictions

We've all got our illnesse