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.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Monday, August 4, 2008
Updateyness: Ryan Adams Responds To Courtney Love
Ryan Adams has finally responded to the claims that he stole from Courtney Love and from her daughter Frances Bean to fund his album 'Rock And Roll".
"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."
"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."
Friday, August 1, 2008
Milkcrate Was Brought to you by the word CUTE.
Milkcrate wants to share what we like to call a 'Dwrrrr!' moment with you - click away.
Three tiger cubs at a Kansas zoo are getting some maternal care from an unlikely source - Isabella the golden retriever.
Three tiger cubs at a Kansas zoo are getting some maternal care from an unlikely source - Isabella the golden retriever.
Greetings from the Slack-Asses at Milkcrate
Firstly, I would like to welcome you all to the new financial year! Isn't it exciting!? Why don't we get a Financial New Year's Eve? Is partying like it's 1999 really to be restricted to once a year? Bar humbug (or similar).
Anyway now for some news in which Ryan Adams apparently stole a milliondy bucks from Courtney Love's spawn Frances Bean Cobain to make his 2003 albulm Rock'n'Roll. Apparently because Courtney has 29 credit cards, it took her a few years to notice .. hmmm. Ryan, why aren't you blogging anymore? We want to hear your side. And a song about it.
Anyway now for some news in which Ryan Adams apparently stole a milliondy bucks from Courtney Love's spawn Frances Bean Cobain to make his 2003 albulm Rock'n'Roll. Apparently because Courtney has 29 credit cards, it took her a few years to notice .. hmmm. Ryan, why aren't you blogging anymore? We want to hear your side. And a song about it.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
"Cross my paypal with credits and I'll read your keyboard"
I think personal keyboards are the new time capsules.
People spend more time in front of their computers now than they did 10 years ago. Many hours per a day, several days a week are spent there. Those not of the anal retentive persuasion eat, drink and and do other things in front of the computer.
What's trapped behind [and on] keys says a lot about a person.
For instance, my keyboard would be a blessing for an archaeologist as its almost a complete archive of my personal habits.
I have a black battered keyboard. Beneath the keys is a jungle of fuzzy tobacco, ash, loose hair and dog hair. On the keyboard itself there's always a few ash-turds, little melted spots, mass amount of grime and a generous smattering of suspect human fluids.
My favourite keys are 2, spacebar, M, A, N and >. The 'control', 'windows' and F3 [which brings up the 'find' toolbar] keys are covered in thick grime as if never used.
Maybe there's a new job description out there? keyboard readers are the new palm/tarot readers: "I see you have a history of homosexual activity and have a reluctance to commit as you feel people are inferior to you. I also see that you have no control in your life and cant find your path. You also have a lack of vitamin B and will die of lung cancer."
People spend more time in front of their computers now than they did 10 years ago. Many hours per a day, several days a week are spent there. Those not of the anal retentive persuasion eat, drink and and do other things in front of the computer.
What's trapped behind [and on] keys says a lot about a person.
For instance, my keyboard would be a blessing for an archaeologist as its almost a complete archive of my personal habits.
I have a black battered keyboard. Beneath the keys is a jungle of fuzzy tobacco, ash, loose hair and dog hair. On the keyboard itself there's always a few ash-turds, little melted spots, mass amount of grime and a generous smattering of suspect human fluids.
My favourite keys are 2, spacebar, M, A, N and >. The 'control', 'windows' and F3 [which brings up the 'find' toolbar] keys are covered in thick grime as if never used.
Maybe there's a new job description out there? keyboard readers are the new palm/tarot readers: "I see you have a history of homosexual activity and have a reluctance to commit as you feel people are inferior to you. I also see that you have no control in your life and cant find your path. You also have a lack of vitamin B and will die of lung cancer."
Monday, July 7, 2008
Dept. of Awful Warnings
A hyperventilating David Thomson adds a new entry to his Biographical Dictionary of Film. In the meantime, Rex Reed is just so over it.
Friday, July 4, 2008
Kylie
Our Kylie received an OBE yesterday.
Outside, in the Palace's courtyard in the sunshine after the ceremony, the pop start took questions graciously. The thing that made her nervous was deciding "what to wear". No tears, just excitement. "I was overwhelmed, nervous, I am so honoured." she said.
Is that her excuse for looking like she's a wearing a children's talent show curtain?
Outside, in the Palace's courtyard in the sunshine after the ceremony, the pop start took questions graciously. The thing that made her nervous was deciding "what to wear". No tears, just excitement. "I was overwhelmed, nervous, I am so honoured." she said.
Is that her excuse for looking like she's a wearing a children's talent show curtain?
Friday, June 27, 2008
Surprise!
There's just so much that is deliciously wrong about this picture... I just don't know where to start... That won't stop me, though!
Is Chloe surprised? Is Olivia surprised? They sure both look surprised. Methinks they share a (ultra cheap) surgeon (with a nasty sense of humour).
I recently heard a hilarious rumour of the LA variety... apparently... Um... Ohh... Well... I can't say it....We'll get sued... But... (on a completely unrelated note) if it turned out that your famous mum and barely famous dad were both friends of a woman called Dorothy and only got married / had a child to quash Hollywood gossip about what they did (or didn't ) get up to regularly, surely that would be enough to send you a bit crazy / off your food / to a surgeon.
Is Chloe surprised? Is Olivia surprised? They sure both look surprised. Methinks they share a (ultra cheap) surgeon (with a nasty sense of humour).
I recently heard a hilarious rumour of the LA variety... apparently... Um... Ohh... Well... I can't say it....We'll get sued... But... (on a completely unrelated note) if it turned out that your famous mum and barely famous dad were both friends of a woman called Dorothy and only got married / had a child to quash Hollywood gossip about what they did (or didn't ) get up to regularly, surely that would be enough to send you a bit crazy / off your food / to a surgeon.
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