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April 30, 2004
Go, and go quickly
There's an LA band I've been dy-ing to see by the name of Wires on Fire. They opened for the Yeah Yeah Yeahs at the Troubadour a few months back, in case one wants some sort of validation of buzz. They're destined to be your next barely-legal-crush band, and they're playing tonight at The Scene.
posted by jessica at 11:59 AM | Comments (9)
Let's just admit that there will be no working today.
jessicann226: jews harp! best!
Krucoff: it is my fave instrument
jessicann226: because you're a precious jew
Krucoff: a strapping jew
jessicann226: sweetie, no jews can be strapping. it's not in our blood.
Krucoff: my soccer body defies the stereotype
posted by jessica at 10:32 AM | Comments (0)
Sleep doesn't do life justice
Some would say that it's unwise to have too much fun in the nights preceding the inevitably insane Coachella festival. They would be right. In a decidedly bizarre universe occuring only last night, we found ourselves running about with a hijacked member of Snow Patrol 'til the wee hours and, as such, things are feeling very "near death" today.
posted by jessica at 09:20 AM | Comments (4)
April 29, 2004
Finally, something useful
"Superficiality, envy, cattiness, schadenfreude, mockery, and melodrama..."
Yes, give me more! Slate gives a fabulous, handy-dandy rundown of which tabloids are truly worth our time. Coming in at the top of their "class" are the National Enquirer and the-new-glossy Star, respectively. I might be inclined to swap that ranking, but I respect the method of score-keeping. If only Slate could be this frivilous every day!
posted by jessica at 10:14 AM | Comments (2)
"Maybe he's angry because he found out nobody wears trucker hats anymore."
It's time for the obligatory Thursday Morning OC Post! Just one episode left of Le OC and, oh my, it hurts so good. When I saw last night's promos for the finale, completely forced tears welled up in my eyes--not unlike my reaction when HBO subjected us to "the end is near" commercials for Sex and the City. While I may have shed anticipatory tears in both instances, the OC holds a place in my heart far more meaningful than an emaciated SJ Parker ever could. So, yes, last night: Seth Cohen mentions his Bar Mitzvah Bucks, Ryan's muscles flexed while he gambled, someone from Chino is knocked up, and we were treated to not one, but two smackdowns: for the ladies, Sandy Cohen gave K-K Kaleb what he had coming; for the gents, a little pool fight between slutty Julie Cooper and slutty Haley. The episode was, as they say, hot.
Predictions for the finale? Creator and EP Josh Schwartz has said that hints for how the season would end were dropped in the pilot (brilliant!), but I don't see how "Welcome to the OC, bitch!" would indicate any character arcs. Nevertheless, our hallowed halls are guessing that Chino will accept his role as Theresa's baby-daddy and, hopefully, Coop will finally kill herself. (We keed, kind of. Teen Suicide--Don't Do It!)
posted by jessica at 09:34 AM | Comments (6)
Now it's gone too far
I was planning on running errands at the mall during lunch, but then I caught wind of a terror threat on west LA malls. What are the rules dictating the behavior of a girl who needs retail therapy? If I don't shop, then I can't help the economy and Bin Laden wins...right? Where's the moral compass of W when you need it? If I hadn't left my favorite jacket in NYC, this would be a nonissue. Blasted city.
posted by jessica at 03:20 AM | Comments (2)
April 28, 2004
What day is Mother's Day?
While I'm trying to figure this out so I don't end up FedExing a card at the last minute, Dana has some brilliant card ideas:
"Mother, On Your Special Day, Here's Your Xanax and Chardonnay"
posted by jessica at 12:04 PM | Comments (3)
Futility at its finest
LA has yet another little smoking ban, this time following Santa Monica's lead: smoking on LA's beaches will result in a $250 fine. No word on whether this ban encompasses the Venice Beach Drum Circle, whose bongs have been practically encouraged by the Baywatch-esque gentlemen who circle the area. Aside from this being nearly impossible to enforce, I'm wondering why Mayor Hahn choose to focus on cleaning up cigarette butts and the like, when the pressing issue is clearly the scattered syringes that threaten my bare feet.
Oops, our little Britney has done it again: seems she's grinding one of her dancers, who conveniently has a very pregnant fiancee. Wasn't this story out a few months ago? Either way, the girl oozes class. Or maybe that's something more viral that she's oozing.
I'm a rather ardent fan of The Stills, but the irony in singer Tim Fletcher's statement kills me:
"People can go to school for really cheap and become fly-by-night pseudo intellectuals and ruminate," he adds. "It's a pretty safe environment to indulge yourself in that."
posted by jessica at 11:23 AM | Comments (3)
Krispy Kremes and Ipecac
It's an eating disorder's dream come true: Renee Zellweger has made a fortune out of binging until she passes as Bridget Jones, then purging 'till she's frighteningly svelte. It's a remarkable accomplishment but not that surpising in the City of Angels. Now, before Bridget Jones' Second Diary Containing Whatever is even released, Zelly seems keen to once again embark on the journey of stretch marks and liquid diets for a third Bridget installment.
On a decidedly less nasty note, it seems that some interracial love scene in some Firey Man movie (which was quite popular this weekend) was cut from the film. Rumor has it that Denzel Washington himself had the tryst left on the cutting room floor, for fear of upsetting his African-American fans. If your fans really love you, however, I believe they'd be more than happy to see your ass bouncing on a bed, no matter who it's with.
posted by jessica at 09:15 AM | Comments (0)
Someone must attend on my behalf and tell me what everyone is wearing.
I stumbled upon this the other evening and was really quite perplexed. Pictures of bloggers. Hmmm. Clearly, this necessitates loving commentary.
First and foremost, the glaringly obvious issue at right is there only seems to be two vaginas represented in this picture. Not that they're not very deserving ladies, because they most certainly are. But being a bit of a vagina myself, I've got to wonder why the ovaries are slightly underrepresented. Is it because girls don't know how to use computers? Lord knows, I barely can function at this keyboard--get me back in the kitchen where I belong! Wait, now I'm being a feminist. My apologies.
As I continue to study the image, a certain dialogue amongst the publishers emerges. Their expressions speak volumes: Jeff Jarvis looks down with fatherly shame as Nick Denton laughs maniacally, as if he were the blogosphere's Caligula. Jason Calacanis gives a knowing (and perhaps flirtatious) eye to Jake Dobkin, who enjoys his Cosmopolitan. You could cut the tension with a knife.
The tech panelists, however, don't have time for such cattiness. Meg and Anil stare off at some wired dream in the sky, but Kottke clearly just wants to have fun. "Hey Jake, hand me a Cosmo!" he says. Paul Ford will look you straight in the eye, but don't ask what he's thinking: those blue eyes betray memories of naughty nights in the NPR studios.
Meanwhile, Choire sulks in a corner (don't tarnish your pretty face with tears!), having not been included in Lockhart and Felix's blatant wardrobe coordination. Jen flashes a satisfied smile, knowing that she can never go wrong in basic black.
posted by jessica at 04:00 AM | Comments (6)
April 27, 2004
Fie upon the damned!
Genuine apologies for the lack of content; it seems that my lovely office workstation has been infected with some very obnoxious spyware preventing me from doing much on the interweb. The incompetent gentlemen who call themselves "IT" took over my precious cubicle for over an hour and failed to do anything productive, so matters have been taken into my own unqualified hands. Hopefully I'll be back to snarking by the afternoon.
On that note, if any of you know how to get rid of a wretched Startium Toolbar (without downloading any new programs, since I can only control my registry and not really install any shredders or whatnot), please do tell.
posted by jessica at 12:56 PM | Comments (4)
Viacom loves the little men.
It's a perfect situation, really. You love Prince, you love Tivo, you love your stunning digital cable package. Dare to dream, because you can now engage in the love of all the aforementioned at the very same time. His pancake-making Purpleness will be shaking in his assless pants in a 30 minute concert special to be aired simultaneously at 9pm tomorrow on MTV, MTV2, Vh1, Vh1 Classic, and BET. Free Franzia to the dedicated freak who can prove to me that they Tivo'd all five specials. (Why Franzia, you ask? Because an unrequested box of it has been sitting in my kitchen since Halloween. Megan and Wade, you know what your wedding gift is, right?)
Speaking of Tivo, advertisers claim they will be cutting their offensive budgets by 20% in the next five years, thanks to the lovely DVRs that let viewers skip commercials. Lucky for us nerds, the web looks to be the next big outlet for advertising bile.
And finally, in utterly unimportant and unrelated news, Nicholas Cage has admitted a fetish for the barely legal girls. He's engaged to 19 year-old Alice Kim, a sushi waitress at some joint that not even Citysearch cares about. Gasp. What was his agent thinking?
posted by jessica at 07:13 AM | Comments (6)
Real life just doesn't compare.
Honestly, I needed a day off from the blueprint, just to recover from the sheer blogfucking madness of the weekend. I'll actually refrain from the listing of the names of the fabulous, but I didn't meet a single person/venue/bathroom I didn't like. And that, dear friends, is saying a lot.
posted by jessica at 03:46 AM | Comments (3)
April 26, 2004
Well, well, well.
After a 72-hour dive into a debauched love-fest of New York, I'm back in Hell-ay and feeling rather, well, tired. Furthermore, Megan was so articulate that I feel remarkably insecure helming my own pithy site. I certainly hope no one got too comfortable with her insight or intelligence--you should know that the blueprint doesn't do things like that.
Regular content to resume shortly, after I sober up and finish sending apologetic emails to all of you wonderful people that kindly dealt with my verbal diarrhea. Thank you for waiting until I turned away to roll your eyes. Yeah, I'm talking to you (whose goiter, by the way, is hardly noticeable).
Also, go buy Nick's CD. It samples "The Stroke" by the famous Billy Squier before the three-minute mark, and that right there is genius.
posted by jessica at 10:20 AM | Comments (2)
April 23, 2004
I'm Megan and I'm outta heeeeerre!
Stella! Tonight at the Knitting Factory. The guys in part responsible for this, this, and this are bringing the show to L.A., and a large number of folks affiliated with this are making their way on down. You should too. 11 o'clock.
And now, dear friends, I bid you adieu. Barring some kind of scenario wherein Jessica finds herself in an altered reality without computers, let alone blogs, you are reading my last post as guest-mistress of the blueprint. I've had an ungodly amount of fun doing this, and it couldn't have come at a better time considering how completely unfoxxxy (figuratively, not literally.) work was this week.
posted by jessica at 06:19 PM | Comments (4)
Avert your eyes, Boston Red Sox fans
Just when I think I'm tired of the Sports Guy, he writes something so beautiful, so accurate, that I swear he's tapped into my very soul:
I finally got to answer the question, "What do they show on VH1 Classic?" Let's just say that Journey and Joan Jett are involved. Not that this is a bad thing. I kept flicking back on the off-chance that they would show "Separate Ways" -- the funniest four minutes of the 80's, and maybe any decade -- but it never happened.
Mr. Simmons later touches on one of Grambo's favorite subjects, one Miss Amanda Bynes. Thanks to Foll-ah-guitar for the heads up.
Also, on the titular (giggle) topic, the New York Metropolitans are coming to town next week, and we've got a whole group together to meet/greet them. Perhaps we can read aloud from this gem on the way to the Chavez Ravine?
Further thanks go to Clo for the Mets book hottness.
posted by jessica at 03:32 PM | Comments (3)
The one where nothing is funny
Joey and Rachel try to generate excitement with off-screen escapades as Friends becomes completely unfunny, uninteresting, and unwatchable in its last season. Tell jokes again! Stop with the overdramatic denouement! I don't care about babies and marriages and moves, for the love of god, just make me laugh!
Meanwhile, the writers test the old adage that all press is good press; They've been slapped with a sexual harassment case by a former writer's assistant. Quoth plaintiff Amaani Lyle:
I was constantly being exposed to writers and producers making statements and comments that had nothing to do with the "Friends" television show that were offensive because they were racist, sexist, and obscene...[for example, writer]Greg Malins talked about what he would like to do sexually to different cast members on the show like Courtney Cox and Jennifer Aniston"
So, did the producers get together a few years ago, foresee how sucky the last season was going to be, and set this scandal in motion so as to distract viewers from their poor writing? Or was it the distraction of constantly talking about oral sex and cleverly changing the "Friends" on script covers to read "penis" that facilitated the poor writing? Was it the chicken, or the egg?
posted by jessica at 01:03 PM | Comments (0)
Words without thoughts
Louisiana tries to ban low-rise jeans. No word on how this will affect their affiliation with New Orleans and Britney Spears.
Is Jennifer Garner a movie star? Is 13 Going on 30 any good? Is it awkward when she and Scott Foley see each other? Was Scott Foley in my foxy hallways yesterday looking totally cute? If Scott Foley and Michael Vartan engaged in some kind of epic fight to the death, who would win?
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Finally, allow me to get briefly academic when I ask: why is it a surprise for a 23 year old to be playing Hamlet? Hamlet is 23, in fact, he's younger. Doesn't it make more sense than having Old man Branagh, Gibson, or even Hawke playing the role again? Pshaw. The Brits should know better.
posted by jessica at 11:26 AM | Comments (4)
April 22, 2004
An ocean's gargled vomit on the shores
The Decemberists hate my city, but I love the Decemberists. So I'm totally there for the new album and the El Rey show in June. I plan ahead.
In other news readily available to grudging pitchfork readers, The Black Album and Slanted Enchanted collide to make The Slack Album. On a completely unrelated note, my love for Steve Malkmus is undying. Steve, I get married in 9 months, you better get your act together and find me. (apologies to the Solomonster. He can have his Sandra Bullock. Of course, he'll have to woo her away from this guy. And that guy looks scary.)
posted by jessica at 05:21 PM | Comments (1)
This is what happens when you intellectualize partying.
Paul Newman decries Ivy League chicanery, reminds me of great filler from days gone by. Whatever happened to suck anyways? I know Polly's around, but I miss the fish, the barrel, AND the smoking gun, on a daily basis.
posted by jessica at 03:47 PM | Comments (2)
No She Didn't! (further adventures in wednesday TV)
RockStarJeff and the Solomonster have deemed themselves too manly for the Bachelor, leaving all the squealing, shrieking horribleness for K-Na, McChez and myself.
As the producers never fail to remind us, Trish is SO HATEABLE, and that theme continues throughout this tantalizing episode 
where the girls play "I Never". With the vast number of sorority types in this bunch we're quite surprised to see how many need the classic drinking game explained to them; Isn't this practically foreplay for greek types?
The fun and games don't last long, however, as Trish reveals all of the really horrible things she's done with each sip of her fruity cocktail. Sex with a married man? Check. So many partners she can't count them on all her digits? Check. Lesbian forays? Check. Now, I'm no fan of Trish, or her actions. But good lord, the other ladies in the house need to calm their shit down. The fervent head shaking, the constant gasping, the moralizing...all at hysterical levels. It's like these women have never met a slut before.
In the end, despite all of Jenny's warnings, Jesse and the producers decide that Trish is staying another week. Along with Mandy Jaye, Suzie, Tara, Jessica B, and Karen, she's earned the right to hang out with a third-string quarterback of questionable intelligence. Woo-hoo.
Seriously though, screw Trish. Anyone who's anyone knows that the best part of last night's episode was local hangout Sonny McLean's getting some airtime. The Solomonster tuned in momentarily to shout out, "Dude, they're totally doing it on MY pop-a-shot!"
Finally, on American Idol. Latoya, Fantasia and Jennifer in the bottom three? Really? I mean, out of the three, I'm glad Jenny went home (her delivery was so crazed, I thought she might come out of the TV, unhinge her jaw and eat me at times) but please folks. Put John Stevens out of his misery. I know America loves a cute white boy, but at least Clay Aiken can sing.
posted by jessica at 01:17 PM | Comments (3)
My Grandma Wears Uggs
The advent of Tivo has made television viewing a viable social event: a time for all the amateur mst3k-ers out there to get together and mock their favorite shows safely, without worrying about missed plot points or witticisms. Always on the cutting edge of such societal 
trends, the Solomonster and I had a few folks over last night to take in the evening's best: The O.C., The Snatchelor, and just a smidge of American Idol. What follows are the juicy show developments, the comments made, and the lessons learned. Keep in mind all times are entirely made up, and potentially erroneous.
9:45p.m. and we are just starting the O.C., due to a late K-Na and McChez. No matter, the show starts off strong with implied Sandy surfing, sorting of the family relationships once Julie and Caleb are married, and a plethora of Brody-isms. Swoon.
9:46p.m. I like the new Phantom Planet, but let's not forget how fun the old Phantom Planet was. Featuring the competent drumwork of Jason Schwartzman.
9:51p.m. Marissa reveals: "Standing my ground is not something I do." The peanut gallery's response: "Neither is eating."
9:54p.m. Theresa explains away violent Eddie's behavior. "He's been under a lot of stress..." RockStarJeff finishes her sentence: "...Playing a lot of tennis..." Poor Eric Balfour by the way. From ensemble member in the wholesome Kid's Incorporated to frequent T.V. bad guy. It must be hard, looking so completely evil.
9:56p.m. Jimmy Coop and Hailey are getting it on. In fact, Coop is one boob-chinning away from a serious wardrobe malfunction. Consensus: Hottt.
10:03p.m. Marissa, having been blackmailed into helping with her Mom's bridal shower asks how she can help. McChez suggests that she chop veggies for the crudite with her shoulder blades.
10:11ishp.m.: Seth meets the heretofore nonexistent father of Summer and proceeds to babble like a guest blogger.
Sometime later: Julie Coop's sister arrives in town, drags Anaheim into the mud (not the happiest place on earth!) and reveals (oh my god!) that Julie used to eat cheeseburgers. Unacceptable. Cheeseburgers, in Newport Beach? Someone fetch the smelling salts.
Sometime more later: Theresa tells Ryan that she can marry Eddie still, she just needs to take some self-defense classes. As horrible as this sounds, it comes nowhere near the lunacy of Kirsten's makeup completely ridding Theresa's eye of blackness. Lesson learned: Concealer works wonders. They should give it away at women's shelters.
10:30 or so p.m.:The limousine liberal Cohens take in yet another troubled youth, as Theresa moves into the Pool House. Aren't they worried that all these Chino-folk are going to grain up their pristine ocean views?
Next week looks to be interesting, as Bachelor and Bachelorette parties turn wild and contentious and we learn that teenagers can get pregnant outside of Tree Hill North Carolina.
Phew. Stay tuned for the reality show portion of the evening.
posted by jessica at 11:42 AM | Comments (2)
April 21, 2004
As the Onion Hath Prophesized
Starbucks infiltrates unsuspecting flower beds, thus beginning sinister phase two.
Adding insult to injury: We continue to see a tremendous amount of interest in this particular program," Ben Packard, Starbucks director of environmental affairs, told Reuters in a recent interview. "We don't give away a lot of free things in our stores." Tell me about it Ben, tell me about it.
In completely unrelated news, work sources have informed me that last night's O.C. party was almost ruined by a small fire (gasp!). No word on whether it was a vengeful plot devised by the ever-treacherous Oliver Trask (who, despite what has been said otherwise, is not stupid! stupid! stupid! so much as sneaky! sneaky! sneaky!). Rest assured pretty Adam Brody was kept safe from the inferno.
posted by jessica at 06:00 PM | Comments (0)
Back off man, I'm an Administrative Professional
I make your coffee, copy your scripts, listen to your phone calls, and, oh yeah, I'm an Ambassador of Excellence.
On this topic, what's the etiquette on leisure reading at your one-woman excellence embassy? I mean, in this industry, internet surfing can easily be done in the guise of "development" or "research", but is catching up on your Tom Robbins passable as work? Surely the Still Life with Woodpecker Variety Hour is only a season away...
And finally, I don't want to be anything other than what I've been trying to be lately, which means in the two and a half days we have together, this blog is going to be a little less foxy, a little more L.A. friendly, and a whole lot more WB. And by a whole lot more I mean, here's my one paragraph Jess has allotted me for the topic. Brace yourself fools.
When agents submit potential writers for "One Tree Hill", what do they say? Here's a completely incoherent script written by a lovesick 8th grader, they'd be great for this show. And then, when that 8th grader gets in the room, and they're breaking the ULTIMATE ONE TREE HILL STORY wherein illegitimate babies almost give rise to further illegitimate babies, do balloons and confetti fall on the lucky person who is assigned this script? Does Chad Michael Murray make out with them? Sigh. Only Karyn Usher knows, bless her heart.
posted by jessica at 03:17 PM | Comments (5)
Changing of the guard
Seeing as we're running off to NYC tomorrow morn, the inimitable Megan will be taking over. She's going to start practicing this afternoon and hopefully by the time we return, she'll have classed the place up a bit.
posted by jessica at 01:53 PM | Comments (4)
Gay yay or nay?
I'm not gay (although I've often suspected I am a gay male trapped in a woman's body, which would explain why I find gay men particularly fetching), so I can't quite measure whether or not the gay-tv craze is on overload. I've heard that, to the square and straight-laced, it's a little much. I think it's fine and cool, but does the target audience appreciate the effort? Now there's TVQ, a gay twist on The View starring Simon Doonan, Frank DeCaro, Michael Musto, et al. Can't wait to see who gets relegated to the Star Jones role.
Happy Birthday to Peabs.
Shane MacGowan, formerly of the Pogues, got VonBondied over the weekend. Naturally, this would be an ideal time for a new album from the solo singer.
Slate interviews on Oliver Stone about his film on Fidel Castro; Oliver Stone looks about the room with wild, crazy eyes.
Ann Bardach: Can't it be said in fact that Castro is quite cynicalíŸÓthe master debater, master lawyer?
Oliver Stone: Well, nobody's perfect.
posted by jessica at 10:51 AM | Comments (0)
Ohmygodohmygod
Oh Chino, so close--yet so far away! Brooke the Assistantly Cohort spotted Benjamin McKenzie for the second time this morning: he was debating whether or not to stop in our overcrowded neighborhood Coffee Bean. Brooke's first encounter with Ben was on the Paseo del Miramar hike in the Palisades, where brief conversation was made and it was learned that he lives in Santa Monica. Well, so do I. And so does Brooke. And this particular Coffee Bean is in an odd location by the high school and, if Ben were to live more than 4 or 5 blocks away from Brooke and me, he would certainly be at a different coffee shop, especially since Coffee Beans dot every 5th corner. Thus it is easily deduced that Chino lives no more than five blocks from me or Brooke. Ultimately, Benjamin leaned out of the car and spied the massive crowd of high school kids, shook his head, and drove off in his Infinity sports car. And, fyi, he was wearing a leather cuff. Mark my words: I will find him before it's too late. He's asserted himself as a neighborhood guy and, suffice to say, I am all over that shit.
posted by jessica at 10:08 AM | Comments (6)
Breaking News: Writer May Be Unattractive
Just because you write annoyingly about the mindless lives of the beautiful does not mean you must be beautiful yourself. In fact, one's success in irritating the literate portion of our nation may very well be correlated with one's success in looking positively haggard without the assistance of fine lighting. Take, for instance, socialite, Vogue girl, and newly-loathed author Plum Sykes.
At first, novelist Sykes is indeed Bergdorf material...
But then the mask is pulled to reveal....
MISCHA BARTON AFTER A DECADE OF NEEDLES!
posted by jessica at 04:35 AM | Comments (4)
April 20, 2004
Duuuude, do you know what today is? It's Tuesday!
LA.com has some ideas for your inevitable celebrations. We at the Blueprint feel that the true believers don't need a faux-holiday to engage. (via tale of two cities)
The best way to distract the press' fascination with your extra-marital affairs? Get a haircut.
Why release one or two live albums when you can release TWENTY? Those over-acheiving boys in Fugazi give Phish and DMB a run for their money.
On the other end of the spectrum, Sheryl Crow whores herself around.
posted by jessica at 12:17 PM | Comments (0)
What could have been--it still would have sucked rather hard
posted by jessica at 12:04 PM | Comments (0)
Objectivity is such a subjective term
Ad Age's blue eyed charmer, Scott Donaton, argues for that Us Weekly and Star are "magazine equivalents of sitcoms." We disagree, seeing as Us Weekly and Star are much cooler than sitcoms because they feature stars of said sitcoms carrying coffee and wearing Juicy Couture sweats. Donaton also feels there should be some sort of editorial seperation of advertising and entertainment content in these publications for the sake of journalistic integrity--bullshit, Scotty! No one reads those things for integrity or journalism--we read them because we're in the bathroom. And if I want to wipe my ass with integrity, I'll read a newspaper.
posted by jessica at 11:20 AM | Comments (1)
When in NYC, make "amuse-bouche" jokes
Confession: I'm eatingat Spice Market on Saturday night. Is this an okay place for a parent to go? Should I back out and run to Pastis? For purposes of securing a table, I hold an important position at a major studio. Don't tell anyone, ok? Salacious details to follow. (UPDATE: Is Balthazar better? I want to be a foodie, help me here. UPDATE UPDATE: Spice Market calls me back and says I can't have my table! Apparently, despite receiving a prior confirmation of the reservation, it was a "request" and the place is "full." I launch into my "This executive will be very displeased at the execution of your business" tirade, but alas, I will not pay for overpriced spicy food.)
Highbrow publication The NY Daily News claims that know-nothing music mag, Blender, has it all wrong. Their list of the Top 50 Worst Songs of All Time apparently includes some News favorites, such as the Beach Boys' "Kokomo" and Eddie Murphy's classic, "Party all the Time." Now the newspaper is fuming and heartbroken--those hipsters ruined their Huey Lewis-style fun!
Today is the worst day of Ian Ziering's life. Yeah, that's right, I'm thowing Ian Ziering back into your consciousness, because today is the day MSNBC dubs the fate of failed ensemble actors as "The Curse of the Ziering":
In short: no one in North America has laid eyes on Ziering since ퟙ90210ퟘ took its final bow; the showíŸÙs cancellation ended his career as a live-action actor.
While it's far too early to tell who will fall to the curse in 90210's obvious heir, The OC, we'd take bets on Luke if he were a series regular.
Finally, speaking of l'OC, tonight is the cast/wrap party at Falcon. I would give up my right leg both legs to go. Having exhausted all of my foxy connections to no avail, I'm putting it out there that, should someone know of a way in, I have very loose morals and said individual will thus be handsomely rewarded.
posted by jessica at 10:29 AM | Comments (6)
April 19, 2004
Beckham's text sex is so two minutes ago
(Thanks to Megan for this hotness.)
posted by jessica at 02:19 PM | Comments (0)
Give the man his money
Dave Chappelle is pissed: he makes $90k an episode for Chappelle's Show on Comedy Central--and for an actor, yes, that's quite a fine sum. The catch, however, is that Chappelle also writes and serves as Executive Producer and, really, those additional services should fetch him twice as much as what he's making right now. Contract negotiations are anticipated to be tense and Dave is fielding offers from other networks--Comedy Central may not pull out the big guns necessary to keep the boy genius on their roster. We wait with bated breath, biatch.
Is The Liars' new release "the most hated album of the year?" Slate says yes, and the argument is harsh but, in light of the following, perhaps not completely unjustified:
That's one more thing not in Liars' favor: They Were Wrong is a concept album about witch trials, the pagan sabbath Walpurgisnacht, and Brocken MountainíŸÓthe mystical German peak immortalized in Mussorgsky's Night on Bald Mountain.
For some reason, the news that December 1st will be Brokaw's last day as anchor of NBC Nightly News makes me really sad. I'm hardly an evening news junky, but for the first 18 years of my life, I watched Tom Brokaw with my parents nearly every night. He was the classy uncle I never had, and now he's being replaced by tanorexic Brian Williams.
I doubt I'd fork over big money to see Coldplay (I've already taken the financial hit for those boys once), but I might be more inclined to make the investment if Echo and the Bunnymen join the bill.
posted by jessica at 10:10 AM | Comments (4)
A shameless moment to ogle
Perhaps I'm on the wrong continent. And there's plenty more where that came from.
posted by jessica at 12:00 AM | Comments (3)
April 16, 2004
Your soul will be changed on so many levels.
Britney's new video is so deep. Watch repeatedly and meditate on the meaning of life.
posted by jessica at 02:39 PM | Comments (4)
Fall from grace
You lost on The Apprentice weeks ago (you go, Bill!), your on-air love interest dissed you in the boardroom, and, well, you're a copier salesman. What's a guy to do? If you're Nick Warnock, you get really wasted and pitch a hissy-fit when you can't get into a club.
It takes a bold woman to admit to the press her love of threesomes; it takes an even bolder woman to confess that nude pictures of her are floating around. You go, Josie Maran, for being bold, daring, and a bit slutty. By all accounts, your career will skyrocket!
Ah, California. The sluggish economy. The energy crises. The debt from hell. The environmental stress. What to do, what to do? The Governator is here to save the day, pledging to bring Hollywood jobs back to Californiuh. Well, that's just dandy, really. I had no idea that we were lacking in entertainment-related jobs--last time I checked, there were a bazillion people schlepping in the biz. I would hate to see SoCal become even more industry-obsessed than it already is. Yech.
posted by jessica at 11:17 AM | Comments (1)
Grab the kleenex.
Like so many before her, Victoria "Posh" Beckham uses her music to express her emotions. Given the pain she must be feeling with the recent allegations of her husband's infidelties, her words are poignant. The Sun has some lyrics from an amazing and moving track in which she addresses the situation through rap. Yes, she raps, and it's pure poetry:
Even if the player says heíŸÙs planning on shaking, bottom line is heíŸÙs still taken.
YouíŸÙve got a man and his boys are strictly off-limits.
If they make noise your style will be diminished.
DoníŸÙt mess with that dude because heíŸÙs already taken.
I doníŸÙt give a damn what plans you are making.
ItíŸÙs only a matter of time before he breaks your heart.
And I know itíŸÙs not easy for you to play this part.
He promised you happiness but he made you cry.
He said heíŸÙd be true to you but he told you lies.
I heard the lies but I know the truth now.
IíŸÙve been alone and IíŸÙve been misused.
Now I know what IíŸÙve got to do.
posted by jessica at 10:58 AM | Comments (0)
April 15, 2004
What's your name, fool?
You may not know me as Fadeproof J. Dazzle, but the Pimp Name Generator has spoken. You can get unlimited aliases for all of your various business ventures!
posted by jessica at 02:27 PM | Comments (2)
I'll be shocked if you respond. Utterly shocked.
While I abstained from making a massive announcement of blogworthy nature, I am going to NYC for three nights next week. Seeing as guest-bloggers are the new black, I'm looking for a willing body to helm this thing on Thursday and Friday. It's a quick gig with little or no incentive, other than the possibility of future blogging--especially since there are larger absences planned in the forseeable future. If you think you're frivilous enough and, dare I say, ready for this jelly, let me know.
posted by jessica at 12:39 PM | Comments (3)
From a purely directorial point of view, of course.
Quentin Tarantino gives his thoughts on The Passion:
"It is pretty violent, I must say. At a certain point, it was like a Takashi Miike film. It got so fucked up it was funny. At one point, my friend and I, we just started laughing. I was into the seriousness of the story, of course, but in the crucifixion scene, when they turned the cross over, you had to laugh."
As if The Devil Wears Prada wasn't enough, a new tell-all biography of Anna Wintour entitled, "Front Row: The Cool Life and Hot Times of Anna Wintour" is due in late fall or winter. The details promise to be gritty, but we're suspecting it will all amount to what we already know: Anna's a bitch.
Countless hours spent at LAX and, in two years, I have yet to see anything as good as this. Maybe next week.
posted by jessica at 10:41 AM | Comments (1)
Wait, didn't you used to be Nigerian?
Date: Thu, 15 Apr 2004 09:26:34 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: Please Acknowledge Receipt
To: theblueprintblog@yahoo.com
Peace of The Lord Be with You
In my search for a reliable and God fearing person and having gotten your contact through prayersand painstaking efforts I have decided to seek your help in carrying out my last wish. My names are Salama Hama.
I'm a 65 years old man and a Western Saharan. I am presently in Republic of Western Sahara. I was a merchant and owned two businesses in Dubai, the United Arab Emirates. I was also married with two children. My wife and two children died in a car accident six years ago. Before I became ill, I kept $28.5 Million in a long-term deposit account in a finance company in Europe.
Presently, I'm in an hospital where I have been undergoing treatment for oesophageal cancer. I have
since lost my ability to talk and my doctors have told me that I have only a few weeks to live. It is my last wish to see this money distributed to needy and other charity organizations. Because relatives and friends
have plundered so much of my wealth since my illness, I cannot live with the agony of entrusting this huge
responsibility to any of them.
Please, I beg you in the name of God to help me collect the deposit and the interest accrued from the
finance company based in Europe and distribute it accordingly. Use your judgement to distribute the
money and keep 10% of it to yourself.
Feel free to reimburse yourself when you have the money for any cost you incur during the process of
collecting and distributing the money. If you are willing to help, please reply as soon as you can. Send
your reply to: salahama@mail2uae.com
Endeavor to send me your full contact details like your name, address, telephone and fax number so that I
can refer you the security company where the funds is lodged.
PLEASE, I BEG YOU IN THE NAME OF God TO HELP ME RETRIEVE THE FUNDS FROM THE FINANCE COMPANY. AFTER COLLECTING THE MONEY FROM THE FINANCE COMPANY. YOU
WILL NOW HELP ME TO TAKE THE MONEY TO ORHANPANGE HOMES IN AFRICA OR ANY ORPHANANAGE HOME CLOSE TO YOU.
May God Bless you and your family.
Regards,
Salama Hama
Republic of Western Sahara.
More information about my country Western Sahara
visit: http://www.wsahara.net/wsgeo.html
posted by jessica at 10:14 AM | Comments (4)
Your t-shirts are touching your sweaters!
Welcome to Portland, bitch! So tongue-in-cheek, so funny, we burst into tears and gave a standing ovation. Three episodes left, kids, and you know they're going to be good. Are they really going to do away with Luke? His character arc has been positively crushing, but is he really worth blocking from our buddy lists? I say no, and you should to. It's petition time! I'd rather see Marissa OD and succeed than send Luke to the pacific northwest, and I think you'd agree. Seth was back in full effect with the jew humor (or jewmor, if you will), and we learned that Summer looks cute with a power drill--although we noticed that Rachel Bilson looks a bit, well, old on the close-ups. I'd like to see Kirsten Cohen continue with her heavy drinking to cope with her father's impending marriage to evil Julie Cooper and thus wind up in rehab as the season cliffhanger. 
Meanwhile, on The Bachelor, Jesse kept a lot of cute blondes and the frighteningly bitchy Trish, who is clearly a reality producer's dream (she actually said several times, on camera, how marrying into money was important). The mole was revealed and frankly, it made sense: she was the least tan, anorexic, and model-esque of the bunch. Surprise, surprise. But hey, he picked the cheerleader, who actually said, "Go Jesse, go!" upon receiving her rose. Stereotypes are so great!
posted by jessica at 09:44 AM | Comments (3)
April 14, 2004
Short and sweet
Praise yahweh! Interpol's new album is due in September. More on their site, where you can also download a very cool remix of "Untitled."
Baseball: boring. Baseball blogs: equally boring. Corporate blogs: weird and boring.
Can someone please explain to me what this Miss Rheingold business is about? I don't get the recent coverage.
posted by jessica at 02:58 PM | Comments (3)
San Diego must be hell on Earth
I was planning a recap of last night's ridiculous episode of the Real World (in which Cameran's naive innocence crosses the line and develops into severe retardation), but Karen Plus One beat me to it. And her fervent rant is far more amusing than what I could muster.
The reunited Pixies performed their first show last night, thus making Minneapolis the coolest place to be on a Tuesday.
I couldn't muster the courage to watch Bush's press conference yesterday, but Tom Shales does a fine job of filling me in on the general idiocy of it all.
In completely unrelated news: I hit a milestone yesterday, as I accepted that I have not listened to Hampton Comes Alive since some fuzzy night in the early years of college and, as such, a phase of my life has ended. I meekly brought the item into Second Spin to try and sell it off, but they claimed it wasn't in good condition (a matter on which I completely disagree, considering I listened to the jawn maybe 4 or 5 times). Nonetheless, the act of carrying a Phish box set in my bag was both embarassing and a firm reminder of how truly far I have come. Now I just have to get rid of the damn thing. If you want it for a fraction of the cost, email me. I'll ship it for free and, more importantly, I won't judge you.
posted by jessica at 11:46 AM | Comments (5)
Breaking news, er, kind of.
I Want Media has a bevy of materials today to support a new and suddenly pressing issue: people don't trust the media! No shit! The public is so dismayed with journalism, in fact, that their unethicism has become a far more reliable source of humor! Really? I hadn't heard about that, either. Perhaps the public perception of the press is so negative not just because of the blatant lies, but because it picks up on this sort of sentiment months too late. But that's too obvious, isn't it?
Isn't it time we had a Quote of the Day function to keep us all inspired while surfing the internerd? Here's a gem from Leatherface, aka Robert Redford:
"The life-force exchange of moving milk from udder to sustenance was completely attractive to me."
Sex! Lies! Sauce! Behind the scenes, the cast of the Apprentice was infinitely more interesting, albeit in a Real World: San Diego style.
The Blueprint will be a bit doped up today, seeing as the good doctor informed me that I have "acute" bronchitis. Not so cute, however, as to get me out of work. I went for some Zithromax, I left with four different medications. Suffice to say, I'm a bit out of sorts, but not in a fun way.
posted by jessica at 10:54 AM | Comments (1)
April 13, 2004
Dear President Bush,
While I have quite a few bones to pick with you, I'm writing in regards to a specific matter which I find most perplexing. Why do you get to take over 500 vacation days since being in office? I only get 10 days a year and, if I'm lucky, a couple of holidays are tacked on to that number. I don't mean to be rude, of course, but I would think your job would require much more time in the office than mine.
Any explanation would be most appreciated. Perhaps you might squeeze some airtime for the topic during tonight's televised babble.
Best regards,
Jessica
posted by jessica at 11:47 AM | Comments (0)
No deus ex broken machina
Enough denizens have complained of sound problems with the iPod Mini to launch a sweeping probe of the issue amongst Apple's bigwigs. Steve Jobs is in talks with Rick Moranis about using a shrinking machine to actually enable Jobs to climb inside the iPod and check out the problem himself. Goddamned perfectionist.
Thanks to the wonderfully craptastic Alamo and slew of other recent B.O. tragedies, Eisner's days are looking numbered. The mouse is dying and the walls of the evil empire are beginning to crack. Roy Disney, make your move now!
Caught in a messy, high-profile scandal? Make like the Beckhams and rekindle your romance on an ATV. There's no better way to fight off rumors than playing like white trash.
posted by jessica at 11:26 AM | Comments (1)
Oh, the horror. The horror.
Blind item from my hallowed Hollywood halls:
What newly single actor surpised production when he brought a date to the set? At a most inopportune time, the actor insisted he leave work so as to accompany his lady to her appointment for a high colonic.
posted by jessica at 11:08 AM | Comments (3)
The drugs don't work
I've been hacking up my lungs for the past week now, and as a result, I'm really lagging on just about everything, including salacious blogging. I'm trying people, just bear with me while I try to score a Z-Pack. The pressure is on to get healthy in time for next week's highly-touted visit to the overcrowded island.
How long can the Britney-Justin video war go on? Seriously, these two just seem to go back and forth, throwing TRL-jabs at one another. The latest and greatest is Britney's new suicide video, which has been alternately in the works and not in the works due to its "graphic" nature. Apparently Brit kills herself (hurrah) while a Justin-esque Stephen Dorff rips up magazine pictures of her. Oh, the drama.
The new Star mag has self-proclaimed itself as no longer "mean-spirited." Why the hell would we read it then?
I'm really glad Donald Trump has negotiated a doubling of his salary for the next Apprentice. He needs the raise about as much as Guadalupe Lopez needed a jackpot.
The Hot Hot Heat are working on their next album. No drop date yet, but we're hoping for this year. New stuff, guys, let's go.
posted by jessica at 10:40 AM | Comments (0)
April 12, 2004
This is just what I needed to kick me into gear.
If I were a Britney song, I'd be "Lucky." It's all so obvious now.
Lucky - From the outside you appear to have it all figured out, but on the inside you feel that no one really understands you and spend most nights feeling alone and miserable. Stop it. You're better off than most and no one wants to hear the 'poor little rich girl' routine!
Which Britney Spears single are you?
from Quizilla, natch, via Body Glitter.
posted by jessica at 05:24 PM | Comments (2)
Can someone tell me who thinks of these things?
The chicken is at your command. Hours of freakish fun.
UPDATE: Apparently, I'm quite out of the loop and the above-referenced site has been around for a bit.
posted by jessica at 02:20 PM | Comments (1)
Multicolored crush
If 21 people hadn't died, I could make endless jokes of a recent stampede for free saris in India. Alas, death tends to nullify my sense of humor. That is, unless it's the death of someone who disgusts us, in which case I'd be positively giddy. Keep your fingers crossed.
Now that everyone's coming out of the woodwork, I must confess: I slept with David Beckham too! And of course I transcribed the text messages.
I'm chilled to find that this is real . Thanks for Kerry SoSaysI and Boing Boing for making me lose my appetite.
posted by jessica at 12:47 PM | Comments (1)
Two for one
During our desert sojurn, we saw two films of strikingly disparate genres: first was the impeccable Eternal Sunshine of Yaddayadda, which has been deservedly praised to death across the blogosphere, so I'll just say that it was joyfully near-perfect and leave it at that.
Upon leaving the theatre in the uber-super-megaplex, we noted that Walking Tall was starting in a matter of minutes. Having never snuck into a theatre in this manner and consequently feeling as if my childhood was lacking in such an experience, we sauntered in and watched the flick...in its entirety. Admittedly, I like The Rock. I saw The Rundown (studio screening, obvs didn't pay for it) and actually found it entertaining. The Rock is ridiculously charismatic. That quality alone pulled me in to Walking Tall, and it was the only thing that kept me there for the entire film. The movie was just ridiculous--things just happened without any explanation or development. Like, boom--he's a sherrif. Okay. I understood going in that it was just going to be a simple ass-kicking flick, but really, the plot was thinner than Lara Flynn Boyle (yuk yuk yuk).
Okay, done with the movie reviews. Back to being a gossipy bitch.
posted by jessica at 10:40 AM | Comments (1)
Playing with the blind
Page Six: "Which singer travels with an "assistant" who is really his boyfriend? At a recent "Saturday Night Live" taping, they were all over each other. "
Unfortunately, this one can't be pinned on Hugh Jackman. We're thinking uber-talented Ben Harper, who appeared with Toots and the Maytals and Jack Johnson on The Donald's episode of SNL last week (you might guess Johnson, but he's not flickering on our 'dar). Married schmarried, Benny Boy.
Everything there is to say on Tarantino has pretty much been said before. Thus I began reading the following with suspicion and trepidation, but I was pleasantly surprised by this interesting rundown of the Eastern (Vol. 1) versus the Western (Vol. 2) in the Kill Bill(s). Yeah, that's right, I called a NY Times Arts article "interesting."
Best Week Ever takes a beating. Some of which is slightly deserved. The concept is cute, the execution is average, but the medium of cheap nostalgia just might be a little oversaturated. Nevertheless, the show does make for entertaining background noise.
posted by jessica at 04:29 AM | Comments (3)
They don't wear masks, per se, but eye patches seem to be popular
Vanity Fair has a three or four-pager this month on that blog thing the kids seem to like, particularly focusing on political commentators. Shockingly enough, it's a generally positive review of blogging--that is, until those pesky anonymous ones are addressed. While there's no article to link to, the following is an amusing blurb:
"The author, Christopher Farah, lit into the whole pirate crew of 'anonybloggers'--Josh Freelantzovites who get their rude jollies pumping raw sewage into the Internet about professional byliners whose jobs they probably covet. These masked marauders 'have made names for themselves by having no names at all and by using the safety and security of their secret identities to spread gossip, make accusations and levy the most vicious of insults with impunity,' Farah wrote. He cited Media Whores Online, as a major environmental polluter and a media-satire blog called the Minor Fall, the Major Lift."
posted by jessica at 03:05 AM | Comments (1)
April 09, 2004
GED not required
Off to dehydrate and get crispy in Palm Springs, but before I go, I thought I'd cut-n-paste a lovely little note I got in my inbox. File this under invites you can only dream of. Atrocitious but tempting nonetheless, if only for the sake of sociological research.
__________________________________________________________________
To: xxxx
From: xxxx
Subject: VON DUTCH PARTY!
Date: Thu, 08 Apr 2004 18:51:23 -0700
Von Dutch Fashion Show - Hosted by Dennis Rodman
APRIL 9TH OFFICIAL "VON DUTCH" FASHION SHOW !!!
With dozen's off surprise Celebrity guests.
Start the evening with an OPEN VODKA BAR from 9:30-10:30 brought to you by S GUARO. A real OPEN BAR not a "mini bar" with one bartender were you spend most of your time fighting through the crowd for one cocktail.
Then it's time for a Wild Runway Show with Motorcycles, Celebrities and all the hottest new Von Dutch gear that's never seen before! When it comes to music, we spare no expense, LA's Top Musicians and DJ's will rock house and send you home with your "Dogs Bark'n."
Main Room: Hip-Hop Dj VICE from Power 105.9
5th Floor Garden Terrace: Sexy. Groovy. House.
"Who's Your Daddy" (LA's # 1 House Band with Live
Saxophone & Congas)
VIP Ultra Lounge: 80's, Rock & Old School
Dj ADAM 12 (She Wants Revenge)
Located at The Highlands Nightclub
6801 Hollywood Blvd. 4th Floor
The Highlands nightclub is Hollywood's superior indoor/outdoor Mega Club! This multilevel venue has not only the best view of Los Angeles, but is draped with elegance from head to toe.
posted by jessica at 04:14 AM | Comments (4)
April 08, 2004
Drink for your country
Let the Corsair break it down for you: The Condi Rice 9/11 Drinking Game. It's enough to make me wish I'd stayed home to watch.
Betrayal in the tabloids is simply wonderful. No, I'm not being sarcastic. Robbie Williams' former bandmate says, ퟙRobbie just doesníŸÙt know what he is. It wouldníŸÙt surprise me if he was gay.ퟘ While we can't confirm or deny this sort of insinuation, we can say that the extremely discomforting video for Rock DJ certainly didn't cater to the ladies.
Roger Friedman is clearly on the Miramax payroll. No news there, but today's review of Kill Bill Vol. 2 is so sticky and gushing that I can't even pick a mutual masturbation joke to go with. It's overwhelming, really.
posted by jessica at 12:31 PM | Comments (2)
Happy birthday, baby
You didn't think we'd forget to act like an obsessive teenager, now did you?
posted by jessica at 12:12 PM | Comments (2)
Someday you will flash like I flash
Required reading du jour: Amanda Fortini does a great job of deconstructing Courtney Love as a musician and professional train wreck. Granted, you've probably had more than your fill of the C.Lo, but really, you just can't look away.
And there's still more on the reality blitz, because it just ain't going away. Mark Burnett (the demigod behind The Apprentice) has finished shooting The Casino, which is slated to be Fox's "next big thing." We're confused, however: will not feature any sort of competition but rather follow around various participants as they navigate the murky waters of the not-so-haute Golden Nugget casino. So, like, where's the manipulation? The backstabbing? This doesn't sound like Fox to me.
Damon Albarn spills a lot of details to NME--Blur is recording, which we knew, but the good stuff is that Gorillaz are working on a new release. Jawsome. I love that album dearly. I might have to bust it out again.
posted by jessica at 12:02 PM | Comments (0)
"Reality" roundup from hell
Last night we were forced to watch two--yes, two--reality premieres: Fox's morally offensive extreme makeover contest, The Swan, and ABC's old standby for failed romances, The Bachelor. The results are in:
The Swan blows in all categories. Initially we watched just to see how insulting and disgusting the show could be, but we found little had changed from its predecessor, Extreme Makeover. Two average women with low self-esteem are picked for "The Swan Program," during which they will be "transformed" by a team of plastic surgeons, dentists, personal trainers, therapists, and coaches, all of whom quickly identify which physical alterations the contestants "need" (and really, it was the overt use of the word "need" for these procedures that drove us batty). For three months, these "ugly ducklings" go through intense whatever-it-is-they-do (and we don't really know, because the genius production doesn't show us much) and--we're assuming this is the catch--the contestants are not allowed to see their reflection during this period. Thus the final "reveal" is all the more dramatic and results in many tears which smear their now-perfect makeup. Finally, in the last three minutes, the Irish host (we're assuming that Fox cast a foreigner to add some semblance of class to the process because, well, accents are classy) awards one with the prize: she will compete in the "Swan Pageant" at the end of the series. The loser goes home with thousands of dollars of plastic surgery nonetheless. We're not quite sure how this is really a competition or even entertaining. The women shed tears of joy, the surgeons clap, and everyone goes home a winner. Yawn.
The Bachelor, on the other hand, is going to be good. Jesse Palmer is brutally hot (so much so that we're not quite sure why he's on playing this dating game). He's almost too perfect and confident, but that will make the ladies go further off the deep end in his pursuit. Palmer isn't so good with names, however--he actually called the wrong name at the rose ceremony, thus making the "mistake" girl feel like a DB. Classy. Traditionally, The Bachelor seasons don't get really good until the contestant pool has been narrowed down, but the genius use of a "mole" amongst the ladies will make things interesting. We had a ridiculously hard time figuring out who she is (ABC definitely altered her voice and changed her dress at some point), which means we'll be tuning in.
posted by jessica at 10:37 AM | Comments (5)
Post-MTV blogger exposed!
He's gorgeous, he's gay, and he screamed hysterically at Melissa for opening his mail. Now he's taking it to the next level with typepad! Dan from the Real World: Miami has arrived! When he's not touring the country or participating in a Real World/Road Rules Challenge, he's looking for a job, perhaps at Bravo for their new "Gays Fix Up Those Clueless Straights" show. He's also writing for the L-Word, because, well, he could be a lesbian. We don't know. Alas, he floats in the same blog circle as the princess herself, but don't fault him for it--they're equally fabulous. A sampling of Dan's breathless prose upon hearing word of Elizabeth Berkeley's appearance on Broadway:
Us too, Dan. Us too.
posted by jessica at 12:03 AM | Comments (2)
April 07, 2004
You were waiting for something like this, just admit it.
Wait, what's that you say? One Tree Hill is still on the air? Loved by few, requested by none, and the absolute bright spot in her day of menial labor, Megan is going to give you a taste of teen soaps to satiate you until the next episode of the OC:
One Tree Awesome returned to the WB last night, with what they are now dubbing "fresh" episodes...because "fresh on the frog" is such an inviting motto. Still, no marketing whiz could deter me from taking in the first OT ep in what must be a decade; last we saw Nathan was filing for emancipation from his parents ("Irreconcilable Differences"-Style), Brooke (the Boosh) was angry at cheating Luke and Peyton, Karen was giving Keith the silent treatment, and sudden featured cast member, "illegitmate daughter guy", was shocked when his baby momma returned to the scene of the crime (and was none other than lazy eyed WB femme fatale Emmanuelle Vaugier. It wasn't bad enough that she tried to kill Lex?) In other words, madness! Riveting madness!
Before I continue, I have three questions for you. Have you seen "Bring it On?" Have you seen "Varsity Blues?" Would you like to see them again, at the same time, crammed into one hour of network television? Last night the Tree Hill kids took a little trip to convenient premise town (or Charlotte, as it is technically known ), where they happened to be hosting both a basketball and cheerleading tournament. Of course all of these hot jocks and cheer types require chaperoning, and who better to do it than Luke's single mom Karen, and Peyton's widower father (what is it with TV and the widowers?). Predictably flirtatious and completely ineffective in the chaperone dept., the 'rents allow the boys to head off and hit up a strip club (Billy Bob gives it "A 10... a 10... a fucking 10!") while the ladies face off with rival cheer teams and rehearse their moves late into the night. Apparently the OTA writers were inspired by Bethany Joy Lenz's star turn in the much anticipated sequel, "Bring it On-er" (http://www.bringitonmovie.com/) because even nerd-by-tv-standards "tutor girl" gets in on the hot cheering action, much to Nathan's delight and Luke's dismay.
Day 2 in the Queen City, and the competition is on. The ladies fail to place but gain a moral victory when Brooke is awarded "best choreographer" (an honor rivaled only by "most improved player" or "coach's award"). The boys take their tourney, winning # 500 for Coach Whitey Durham on a last second fade away by Nathan (as recommended by the sidelined Luke...maybe there's hope for the bastard brothers after all?). The trip back to Tree Hill brings peaceful denouement for Tutor girl and Luke, but Nathan can't help but be sad in his parentless apartment. Keith misses his Karen, who is practically sitting on Peyton's dad's lap. The Boosh still cannot forgive Peyton, despite her awesome mix of "Everybody was Kung Fu Fighting" that saved the Ravens chances in the cheer-off. And of course, even though it has gone unmentioned in this recap, Dan Scott remains completely irrationally and unalterable evil.
To conclude, I leave you with three more questions. Have you seen the O.C.? Are you sad that Luke and Mrs. Coop are a thing of the past? Would you like to see their love replayed by Mrs. Scott and "random basketball player dude" on One Tree Awesome? Because it looks like that's what's headed your way, along with possible Nathan/Peyton cheatastic kissing hottness (boy, she's a whore AND a bad actress), and the triumphant return to prominence of the "illegitmate daughter guy" character. And thus ends your latest informative and unrequested Tree Hill treatise! Ta da!
posted by jessica at 05:05 PM | Comments (2)
only fat people eat meat. or carbs. i can't remember which.
Hey, it's been some time since we've had a PETA item! Our favorite obsessive veggies have bowed in deference to The Boss, removing the above ad from their campaign after word from Mr. Springsteen's people was leaked that he might be upset by the image. Apparently Bruce didn't want his rapidly detiorating derriere to be used to push aspargus.
The moment we've waited for with bated breath is now upon us: Richard Dreyfuss is staging a comeback! Oh yes. Why? I don't know. Slow news day, seems an easy time to for Mr. Holland to steal back the spotlight. Go get 'em, 'Fussy!
posted by jessica at 02:49 PM | Comments (0)
Can we all just admit the April Fools is a bad idea?
By now, you should have heard that several college newspapers are getting heat for some April Fools' editions that were in remarkably poor taste. Here's a roundup of the offenders. While I'm the last person on earth to be offended by jokes, campuses tend to harbor a lot of, let's say, "sensitive" groups. College editors, quit being so stupid! I'll never forget a headline in the Michigan Daily's April 1st edition: "Sorority Girl Eats Sister, Throws Her Up." That one was a doozy.
More television to inspire projectile vomiting onto your flat screen: ABC's reality overlords are developing the instant classic, "I'm a Rich Kid--Get Me Out of Here!" I'm sure that this will be the one that saves destroys the network.
No OC tonight, kids. I know, I know, I too am frustrated by the lack of continuity in programming, but sit tight. The Swan premieres tonight, and you know I'll be watching. For those unfamiliar with the concept, Fox is taking normal looking women (all of whom are all referred to as "ugly ducklings"), giving them an extreme makeover, and then adding a beauty pageant at the end of it, just to make the self-esteem issues surrounding this thing that much worse. It's gonna be great! I can already predict the outcome: "Swan Winner eats her competition, throws her up."
posted by jessica at 10:54 AM | Comments (5)
Teen Vogue is so much classier.
UK teachers get their panties in a bunch over the content of teen magazines, including everyone's favorite glossy gem, Cosmo Girl. Perhaps the tips on snogging are bit too explicit for younger readers. Sugar magazine, which is directed at 13-19 year-old girls, featured a pulitzer-nominated piece entitled, "I've Got the Biggest Willy." Frankly, I don't see what the problem is--the sooner we educate young girls to discern which crotches are worth their time, the better.
Is the LA Fashion Week the new NYC Fashion Week? The fashionistas on the left coast are finally figuring out that jockeying for good seats at fashion shows might be a smart career move. Throw a couple agents and John Carrabino in the mix, and you've got runway hell before the shitty clothes even debut.
There's nothing a little Prozac and gastric bypass surgery can't fix, even if you're Roseanne Barr. The comedianne is back (again?), but this time she's apologizing for "losing [her] sanity for so many years." No mention of where Tom Arnold fits into that apology, but we can assume that he's grouped in with this little gem, which clears up any questions you might have:
"She is through hooking up with actors.
'They are all girls,' says Roseanne, who also weathered an emergency hysterectomy last August.
'I don't want to be with a girl. I want to be with a man.'"
posted by jessica at 10:27 AM | Comments (2)
April 06, 2004
who will wipe his bottom now?
pat kingsley, uber-publicist to the glitterati, has parted ways with tom cruise. while normally we couldn't care less about the shifting of the flacks that support celebrity egos, kingsley was a particularly powerful person who literally shaped the persona and mystique of tom cruise. it will be interesting to see how cruise manages without her, especially in light of the fact that he just lost his beard (or did he? we're so confused without kingsley already). slate throws some insight our way on just how important the publicist has become.
stating the obvious on why anchorman will rock:
"'The news has this trusted kind of position. There's nothing more fun than making fun of what's sacred,' said Adam McKay, who directed 'Anchorman' and co-wrote it with Ferrell."
i'm not sure if the news is exactly sacred or trusted these days, but anything will ferrell does is fine by me. he can just sit there and breathe and i'd be laughing.
yeardley smith, the voice of lisa simpson, hits the stage in a one-woman show. according to this, she's more than a bit dissatisfied with her success as a cartoon. emmys are stupid, right yeardley?
posted by jessica at 12:49 PM | Comments (0)
fine moments in tabloid aesthetics
i don't expect my gossip columns to be exemplary sources of journalism, but this has to be noted as a one of the worst entries to date. headline: NEW BED-MATE FOR BUSY KATE. picture: RYAN SEACREST. what? kate (moss) is with seacrest? no, not at all, silly, they're completely unrelated. don't get it? yeah, i didn't think you would. whatever, that item sucks anyhow. but when celebrities go to south central--that's some quality dish.
sharon waxman is so hot for ryan gosling! while he's made some quality dramatic turns in the believer and united states of leland, waxy's glorious exploration of the 23 year-old hollywood putz fails to mention the crowning acheivement of his itty bitty career: the heartfelt and thought-provoking murder by numbers. mentioning that, however, would be objective and, well, the joke really writes itself here.
so. not. fair. j.lo's mother won big on the slots in atlantic city. i wonder if the new influx of additional wealth is enough to heal the shame brought on by the era of bennifer.
last week drew barrymore was spotted at the apple store at the grove (with her stroke, of course) last week--according to my eyewitness, she was incredibly tiny and really skinny. now the sun is all over it. the inner thighs are indeed looking quite sticklike. another hollywood actress is suddenly emaciated? it must be tuesday.
posted by jessica at 09:26 AM | Comments (0)
April 05, 2004
the paradigm trembles
LA Times - 5
NY Times - 1
[via gawker]
posted by jessica at 12:36 PM | Comments (1)
network execs force girl to go home with slobbering "joe"
tonight marks the finale of average joe: adam returns. i have yet to see a single episode (i'm in poor form as of late), but slate tells me all i need to know. perhaps i'm not missing that much--i was at the san diego zoo a few months ago, anyhow.
"There is, for one thing, an odd National Geographic vibe to the new show, mostly in the resemblance between the cooped-up female contestants and their cousins, the orangutans; both devote relentless hours to fighting and grooming each other."
from the no-shit-department: researchers in chicago have concluded that television is linked to attention deficit problems in children. according to this "groundbreaking" study, television might be so powerful enough as to "rewire" the little kiddies' brains. god only knows what this has done to america's future. it's all very T2.
given his very public problems, alec baldwin is probably the last person you'd want advice from on divorce, but that's not going to stop him! we've got egos in play, people, and that means it's time for a book!
posted by jessica at 12:35 PM | Comments (0)
papa don't preach, but he does dole out oxycontin
what did you do this weekend? we bet you can't top kelly osbourne, who entered rehab for addiction to painkillers. the cash that betty ford et al have made off of this family should be used to start a foundation dedicated to keeping them all tucked safely away within their compound, away from any and all cameras.
mel gibson has taken to shopping around the passion to retirement homes. he's been particularly successful at residences housing nuns. remarkable, isn't it? who knew nuns were such fans of snuff flicks?
james lipton recently stepped down as dean of the actor's studio, but he will persist in asking celebrities about their "craft" and "favorite curse words" in that strange, robotic manner that bravo just loves. on deck for an interview is master thespian jennifer lopez. we can only conclude the show isn't taking itself too seriously.
posted by jessica at 11:11 AM | Comments (1)
the wagon doesn't exist
the strokes at the unfortunately ginormous universal ampitheatre on friday: not so much a rock show as a spectacle. musically, they were tight as usual, but it was overshadowed by some serious rock star antics. when julian jumps into the audience on the first song, you know it's going to be special. this show will be mentioned on "behind the music" a few years from now, when the boys are in rehab and the music media is wondering about their tipping point. a small sampling of the casablancas gibberish, which exceeded that of any show i have ever seen:
"this song is for hermaphrodites. it's called, under control."
"let's pretend we're on MTV.." (crowd jeers) "i'm being sarcastic, bitches!"
"why am i so far away from all of you?" (begins to move speakers, topples a few over) "i guess i should have come to sound check."
"excuse me, i have to get some water and nick has to piss."
"what's up with these screens? they're so old school...you're like, watching the screens and not the show. watch the fucking show!" no shit, you don't say.
"okay, i want to see the show from the back of the audience. you're all too far away, i want to be back there with you. i'm coming back there, get me some fucking mike cord..." (he proceeds to make it all the way to the lower mezzanine, which was at least 50 rows back. pretty amazing, actually.)
"i fucking love you guys but quit fucking touching me!"
random guy in the mob grabs julian's microphone and screams "i love you nikki!" julian takes back the mike and says, "hey nikki, some douchebag thinks you're pretty okay."
"you guys seem really fucking cool...yeah, god fucking bless you but you fucking mobbed me and i was trying to get to the back of the auditorium and i fucking love you but you were really fucking cool."
"okay, this song is either take it or leave it or clampdown. you have to guess."
"los angeleeees...city of celebrity envy and shit."
"i'm happy. i'm in love, people...nick, should we tell them about the wedding? nick and i are getting married...oh fuck it, now albert's jealous."
"let's go get subs...nick and i used to get subs for lunch in high school, you remember that? these guys, we love each other, man, we're 5 guys from new york city and i fucking love these guys and we used to get subs."
(the band takes 5 minutes to heatedly debate something) "sorry, we were arguing about 90210...did brandon fuck kelly or did kelly fuck dylan or did dylan fuck brandon?"
(dumps his drink over his head) "do you like my hair? i styled it with fucking vodka."
fabrizio closes the show by jumping up and down on his drumset and screaming, "i'm fucking hammered!"
posted by jessica at 12:21 AM | Comments (31)
April 02, 2004
we hear...
not that i would ever listen to ryan seacrest's morning radio humpfest, but my sources say ryan and the gang were discussing britney's most recent concert cancellation in cleveland (britney pulls out of gigs like a teenager having unprotected sex). senor seacrest had some interesting reports on the matter from an "undisclosed source" (we love those around here). it seems miss britney was out on the town late the night before and, in her much-to-be-expected drunkenness, was spotted inhaling multiple inferno burritos at a well-known establishment. according to the "report," refried beans were dripping down her arm as she polished off inferno burrito numero 3.
this could be hearsay, but i prefer to believe otherwise. diarrhea is just the type of "illness" that would force a beloved bopper to cancel her night's stay at the onyx hotel.
posted by jessica at 02:28 PM | Comments (1)
let me break it down for ya'll
slate uses an awful lot of space to explore why no one is dropping acid anymore. aside from the death of jerry garcia and some major drug busts in kansas, i can tell you in five words why LSD isn't the hotness: that shit is scary intense. if i want to see a talking carrot, i'm not going to go buy a tab of the good stuff off of some dude at a phish concert. wandering around amsterdam for three days pretty much quelled those exploratory urges, but fyi, the talking carrots are definitely hanging out around the canal in front anne frank's house.
the oc may be fun, but it's no my so called life. the nytimes pays homage to the show that made me dye my hair burgundy when i was 14. read it and daydream for a ride home from jordan catalano.
posted by jessica at 11:22 AM | Comments (5)
spoiler alert!
UTTERLY RETARDED FINALE OF THE APPRENTICE REVEALED! well, kind of, anyhow... according to la weekly's top playa-hata, nikki finke, the series finale, to air on april 15, will be, "replete with what is supposed to be a surprise appearance by Spider-Man. (In a masterful stroke of summer movie promotion by Sony Pictures, Tobey Maguire shows up in character, only to be met by TrumpíŸÙs newly trademarked phrase, ퟙYouíŸÙre fired!ퟘ) ." should the aforementioned scenario indeed occur, it might go down in the books as perhaps the stupidest reality finale ever, much more so than the gut-wrenching average joe outcomes. who cares about the winner when we can have spiderman? it's so obvious.
gawker started it yesterday, but now rush and molloy are rehashing the circumstances of kurt cobain's death on april 5, 1994. a ten year anniversary naturally calls for drudging up some old issues and hey, courtney love is pretty hot-in-a-crazy-train-wreck-way right now, so let's make some media magic and call it a conspiracy theory! in the latest "developments," a private investigator contends that the cobain was injected with a lethal dose of heroin before he was shot. come now, do any of you really think that if courtney had an assload of horse, she'd share it? not a chance.
posted by jessica at 10:49 AM | Comments (0)
listen to your moose
poor nick from the apprentice. he may have made it to the next round, but is there any fate worse than having your father named Moose talk about your girl issues on national television? cock-blocked by your own unfortunately-nicknamed father, ouch. as deftly foreshadowed in the previews for next week, "the" donald and the nbc promo gang are going to show us how omarosa, normally recognized as a one-word proper noun, is really two words: OMA...ROSA. if you missed the preview, allow me to quote: "next week, two words: OMA...ROSA." got that? two words, okay? OMA...ROSA.
oh, CNN, you hucksters! there's nothing i love more that "serious" journalists getting material from letterman, believe you me. okay, there's one thing i love more: when CNN can't figure out whether or not the gags lifted from the late show are real or fake. madcap comedy! bloopers ensue! 24-hour-news is so damn funny and utterly unpredictable! yeah, well, i trust letterman more anyhow, for obvious reasons.
stop your salivating, the new a-list is updated for your guilty pleasure.
i really need to look at my google queries more often. condolences to the disappointed soul who found this site via the question, "do mexicans drink tea?"
posted by jessica at 12:42 AM | Comments (2)
April 01, 2004
a moment of silence, please
we had our suspicions, yes, but the official announcement is still heartbreaking nonetheless: siegfriend and roy are officially calling it quits. no longer will their glowing, youthful faces overlook the debauched denizens of the strip. filling the void left behind is one celine dion , bravely accepting her duties as the top homoerotic vegas idol.
on an unrelated note, contests are fun. win this one and come play with me in hell-ay. you could use the sun, you're looking a little pasty.
posted by jessica at 03:25 PM | Comments (0)
minutae
julia stiles, please shut your remarkably flat face. if you want college credit for acting in twelfth night, maybe you should leave columbia and enroll at the actor's studio.
stereophonics' kelly jones is shopping his screenplay to ewan macgregor. is this really cool or really nauseating?
filter has a muse player--you can listen to all of absolution here, in case you're not carrying your copy everywhere you go (which you should).
LA's pirate radio station, little radio, is up and running for as long as they can. they're on fm 104.7, but you can be un-piratey and listen online. [via kerry sosaysi]
posted by jessica at 12:32 PM | Comments (2)
you don't want to know where else her fingers have been
ퟙ[Bonnie Fuller] has an uncanny finger on the pulse of what the culture can take in terms of vulgarity,ퟘ says everyone's favorite gadabout, simon dumenco.
c'mon, gang, this is america. one man's vulgarity is another's sensitivity:
ퟙIf we were a tabloid, we would have just done, íŸÚLook at how fat Kirstie Alley is,ퟘíŸÙ [Star editor-in-chief] Joe Dolce said. ퟙInstead, we found friends trying to help her, we talked about this is what led to her problem, this is how sheíŸÙs trying to solve it. We added a level of depth. We could have just said, íŸÚSheíŸÙs a fat pig.'ퟘ
posted by jessica at 11:30 AM |