Browsing through Amazon this morning, I stumbled upon this fine piece of apparel - and it's user reviews.
Pros: Fits my girthy frame, has wolves on it, attracts women Cons: Only 3 wolves (could probably use a few more on the 'guns'), cannot see wolves when sitting with arms crossed, wolves would have been better if they glowed in the dark.
So if you're like us here at Milkcrate and you appreciate fine user reviews, wasting time and wolves click away and enjoy.
Here at Milkcrate we're against camel toes. We haven't had a meeting about how we feel about Lady Gaga yet, but I'm pretty sure everyone feels the same way about her as I do.
Here she is in Sydney wearing a CARAZY! outfit. What a shy, but oh-so-individual, petal she is.
The delightful Clare Werbeloff tells the colourful story of two Gentleman on a night out in Sydney. After retelling the conversation to the reporter, she says "you're welcome". What manners!
so to brush up on our Eurovision song writing skills, i hand it over to Neil Hannon...
Terry Wogan wont be hosting the english speaking version this year, but Graham Norton will be! I have faith in Mr Norton he'll bring in the [extra] lolz.
We at Milkcrate were especially excited the receive the following email last night:
As we're sure some of you are already aware, the man is back, so is his groove and he wants to share it with you. Hence, he's giving a series ofdance, music and aerobics classes for you all to enjoy live via theInternets right now, or more specifically 12pm til 6pm Parisian time. If you haven't logged on already, then we're sad to inform you of some of thethings you've missed; Jarvis managing a musically accompanied yoga class, abeautiful belly dancer, performing hard rock with class of over excited 8year olds and numerous jam sessions with an eclectic mix of locals freshoff the street.
So visit http://jarviscocker.net without delay and don't forget to grabyour free Mp3 from the imminent "Further Complications."
So without further adew we give you not only music from the man himself, but a spiffy little clip of him spelling his name with big plastic letters.
This morning at the gym in Santa Monica (Oh – I’m so LA), I had the utter misfortune of having to catch the only thing worse than Australian and British mid morning television. That’s right. American mid morning television. Mysoginist. Vapid. Downright creepy. It goes by the name of Regis and Kelly. I’m still not sure which is Regis and which is Kelly, but I don’t think it matters much.
First, this ancient geezer comes on, holding the hand of his cohost (toothpaste ad smile, blonde, tanned, young enough to be his granddaughter). He leers at her, and tells her half a dozen times how gorgeous she is. He checks her breasts out at least twice in the first five minutes of the show. I felt like shouting at the screen : “Yep. They’re still there!”. During the course of their opening banter it becomes apparent that this poor lass is like an inarticulate-airheaded-deer-in-high-def-camera-headlights. I’m not sure what I found worse. The fact she kept likening things to “being at school” “coming back to school” “It’s like the school bully” (Get this woman a therapist!). Or the heavy handed manner her male co host moved the conversation to unrelated subject matter, abruptly cutting her off with no segue. He then proceeds to read odd news items from a white paper (auto cue, anyone?) while she giggles and smiles at inappropriate moments. I am transfixed. It’s like watching a live Amy Winehouse performance. Benjamin Bratt comes on to talk about his new show where he plays an ex heroin addict (at this point, Blondie gasps : “Oh my!”) who has turned his life around and is now in servitude to the Lord (!). Sounds rivetting. Pity, I don't own a television, here. Sigh. Then there’s a go go dancer. No. Really. A go go dancer. From Jersey. Go go dancing in aid of a “spin the wheel” style competition. “I like the way they make them Jersey girls!”, the geezer gaffaws. Turns out the Jersey girl is Security Guard by day. “She can secure me anytime she wants…”. Blondie laughs along. The phone-in caller who wishes to spin the wheel has recently moved states. Blondie looks genuinely shocked. “Don’t you miss the corn… and the blueberries?”
Possibly the only thing worse than mid morning presenters is the mid morning weather people. I don’t catch much TV news, but I have noticed a startling trend. If there’s a hurricane, a freak storm, a flood, whatever, it is the humiliating task of the weather person to stand amongst the (arguably dangerous) weather and attempt (usually with very limited success) to give a live report of the conditions. It reminds me somewhat of this:
If you want to see Geezer being a right old perve and Blondie chattering away inanely, go here.
"I've been dealing with the truth that I have at times been a bad example and/or glorified self destructive behavior. This was never intentional, but rather a consequence of leading a public life in plain sight and never expecting any sort of preferential treatment, isolation or protection," states Adams.
"I've realized and accepted that if people decide to dislike me, they're going to find reasons to justify disliking me. There's nothing I can do about that. That said, it still does pain me to be accused of fictional crimes against innocents or to be implicated in romantic gossip involving the possibly reality-challenged--however unreliable the source or outlandish the accusations. In the end, however, I know that I have never done or even meant anyone any harm."
