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Supastah archivesTuesday, July 08, 2008
The Wackness
My friend, Brian, is a movie producer. Like, a real one. It sort of boggles my mind, not because of Brian, mind you, as he's super-talented and always has been, but it boggles my mind that I know someone who is real movie producer. We've known each other since high school, and I promise you he was the sort of guy everyone liked because he was - is - a great guy. Anyway, so Brian is a producer out in Hollywood, and he has a movie - "The Wackness" - coming out this weekend in Chicago and I think you should all go see it. And if you're not in Chicago, well, when it comes to a theater near you, same orders: "The Wackness" stars Sir Ben Kingsley, Josh Peck, Olivia Thirlby, Mary-Kate Olsen, Famke Janssen and Method Man and won the Audience Award at both the Sundance and the Los Angeles Film Festival this year. (Also, it's known for a scene where Mary-Kate makes out with Ben Kingsley, which is really rather twisted and awesome. - EJS) The Standard PG Trailer: Honest to Pete, there are few people that deserve the kind of success that Brian has found - it's always nice when the bright, kind, genuinely talented people make it. Posted by Erin at 06:19 PM | | filed under: Supastah Sunday, June 22, 2008
In defense of Jay Mariotti
(This really is just a post for the Chicago-area sports fans, and those who know who this guy is. Everyone else? Search the archives or something.) I've gone back and forth several times about whether or not I was going to address the whole Jay Mariotti controversy going on here in Chicago. I've had quite a few friends email me and laugh, make mention of his latest tirade and wonder what I thought of it. For those who knew what it was like for me in those initial days of working for the Chicago Sun-Times, the name "Mariotti" was enough to induce vomiting in me. Working as an editor for a major metropolitan daily is not for the weak, and I think we learned it certainly wasn't for me. People like Jay Mariotti are a bit to blame. They are, to put it nicely, demanding. But personalities are much of why I got into journalism in the first place, aside from all of that truth and justice and voice-of-the-people stuff. I liked people who were curmudgeonly and gruff and weird, and if getting into the door meant being called a "fucking moron," something I was called more than once in my days as an intern in the sports department at the Peoria Journal Star, then so be it. (A word of advice to all of you who email me asking for career advice: go work in a sports department fetching high school box scores. This will teach you everything you need to know about working at a newspaper.) So I was ready and willing to deal with Jay Mariotti when it came my time, though I assure you it was not easy. I'm pretty sure I got teary-eyed at home for the late-night haranguing that I was subjected to, for any number of reasons. Deep down, however, I got it. I did. It didn't excuse this behavior, but I got it. He is, after all, a nationally known, for good or for ill, sports columnist. But that's clearly not what motivated this guy, all this recognition. What seemed to drive Jay was that he wanted it right, he wanted it good and he wanted to deliver something of substance to his readers. He cared, more than almost anyone there in any section, except for Roger Ebert. One day I will show my grandchildren the email I got from Roger Ebert himself, because it remains to this days one of the things I cherish, right up there with my picture of me and Barack Obama. Anyway, it was Mariotti's dogged determination to do a good job that I came to appreciate about him. You have to be deep in the trenches with someone to see this; you couldn't know what happens at 1 a.m. when the story is still being worked on, and you're far away, and at the mercy of someone you've never met in person. In my hands, quite literally, held his reputation, that which it is, and almost everything he holds sacred. By the time I left, we'd just wrapped up launching a new feature on the site, one that had him filing even more often. We worked together pretty closely to ensure its success, so closely that he had to be reminded to copy the whole Web staff on emails because I did have days off and couldn't be there for every column. We established a rhythm of sorts, and the rants tapered off, and my interactions with him were nothing but wonderful. It was a total 180. When I quit, I was unsure how to tell Jay that I'd resigned, or even if I should. So I didn't. Several days after I turned in my badge, I got an email from Jay on my personal account, letting me know he was really sorry to see me go, that he'd heard the news, and thanked me for all that I'd done, and that he understood just how hard those late nights are on people. He hoped, he said, that our paths would cross again someday. My parents raised me to believe that if you see a man getting kicked around, you don't join in. The courageous, right, moral thing to do is to champion if you get the chance. It is not enough to know that you know a different side to a man's character; you have a voice and you use it. I know why people feel the way they do about him; I know why most men I know email me to talk smack about Mariotti. But the thing is? I really like Jay Mariotti. I am probably the only person in Chicago who will admit to that, but there it is. There is much being made about what it's like to work with him, especially if you're a guy on the sports desk. I don't envy those bastards one bit, never have. I was not surprised to hear that that situation had gone public, as it was a looooong time coming. Those guys are fantastic and talented and they'd had enough. But I worked with him, too, and ... ... well, you get it. I don't miss newspapers, and the life that goes with it. Sometimes, though? I miss working with characters like Mariotti. I really do. Posted by Erin at 12:37 AM | | filed under: Supastah Sunday, June 15, 2008
This screed also is for your snotty attitude about Knocked Up
Do you know what happens when TV actors get too big for their britches? They become David Caruso. And I'm pretty certain you don't want that. No one on "Grey's" had a good storyline this year, Toots, because the show is turning into "ER" faster than you can say "afib," and let's be honest, the best acting you ever did on that show was from the bathroom floor at Meredith's house after Denny died, when you didn't say much at all. Even then, I don't understand why you won an Emmy. Anyway, just something you might want to think about, especially considering all of the rumors that have been floating around for years about the fact that you're kind of, a little bit, a bitch. This, dear girl, isn't helping your case. Posted by Erin at 07:50 PM | | filed under: Supastah Sunday, November 25, 2007
What has two thumbs and is going to see Kenny Rogers tonight?
Posted by Erin at 11:42 AM | | filed under: Supastah Thursday, November 08, 2007
Someone somewhere clearly wants me to give a hoot about the nimcompoops on The Hills
I chalk it up to genetics, this fascination I have with celebrity culture. (Can you actually call it "culture?" Probably not. Celebrity "propaganda" is more like it. Still, you know of what I speak.) Oh sure, the tabloidization of mainstream media (wretched term it is) has made it so everyone knows about Linsday Lohan's drug-and-shopping binges, Paris Hilton's snatch and Jesus Lord Britney Spears, she of the tight purse strings for the poor. It's all rather inescapable, I used to work at a big daily newspaper, I know. Even we once led with a story on Brangelina, as misguided as a move though it were. But no. I come by all of this quite naturally. My mother, may she rest in peace, was obsessed with All-Things-Celebrity. I don't want to say she was obnoxious, because she wasn't. She wasn't one of those adults who would stalk celebrities at appearances in grocery stores, though I'm pretty certain Cathy once showed up for an autograph session with the actors who played "Cliff" and "Nina" on All My Children. But she paid attention and discussed with my sister and me every minutiae on her favorite stars. I still have to remind myself when I come across her visage that my mother really didn't know Victoria Principal, though to hear her talk you would have thought Vicki would be showing up that week at The Colonial, the restaurant she and my father frequented almost every Friday night with their friends. I'd also wager a guess that my mother was never more thrilled with my dating choices than when I was dating a sportscaster in the late '90s. I'm sure she was up in heaven celebrating the fact that her daughter was a serious item with someone who showed up on TV every day. So it's not a surprise that I've been a subscriber to Us Weekly. I used to be embarrassed by it, but I've since embraced my addiction much in the same way we embrace many things of which we were once concerned with what other people thought. I am old enough not to give a rat's behind anymore. And up until lately, I've looked forward to coming home on a Friday and hunkering down with my weekly book o' crap. I mean, it is crap. Why should I be surprised that Sascha Baron Cohen buys the "good" toilet paper? The dude is rich. I know when I started having more expendable income the first thing I did was buy this stuff, and I buy it in bulk on the off-chance that ... I don't know. I just know I never want to use single-ply sheets of anything in a place that means so much to me. Even all that said, Us Weekly has been lacking. And I know why. As a 31-year-old woman, I'm creeping slowly into a demographic that they could care less about. I'm not going to buy those fucked up diet pills, or tanktops that read "Mrs. Efron," or consciously use the word "bling" in any normal conversation wherein I am not poking fun at others who do. Because of this, the articles are mainly about celebrities I have no interest in. It's not as though I'm looking for the latest on Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward or anything, but I do not care who Lauren Conrad is, or about her latest dating strategies, and so knowing my subscription was drawing nigh, I made a decision: I was breaking up with Us Weekly. I announced it to Scott on several occasions, because I knew he'd never believe I'd do it, and declared myself totally over the whole thing and ready to get a subscription to ... I don't know. Something else that would enrich my life. But just a week before the subscription was set to run out, do you know what happened? Those jerks charged me $70 for another year. So I called and complained and gave my very best impression of an adult, because I really did have it in my head that people who look like Perez Hilton and the cast of High School Musical are the ones manning the phones down there, and was told quickly that I'd be refunded. End of story. I called back today after receiving only a $1.35 credit to my account, as opposed to one for $70. The nice guy on the other end, however, noticed something before he could assess the situation: I had another Us Weekly account in the system from a subscription that was placed six years ago. This nice person assured me that I'd be receiving my $70 back, and that the $1.35 was a refund for the one issue that I "would have received last week" (which I totally did, suckers!) but that the old account showed that I had two years, paid in full, left. That's right. TWO YEARS. I'd like to say that this shocks me but it doesn't. My twenties were a blur of incredibly bad decisions across the board, so to learn that I'd set down a wad of cash on a gossip magazine subscription, and then never bothered to change my mailing address with them, just totally blew it off, is not a surprise. The day that comes that someone says to me, "You took care of this matter back in 2002," will be the day you can color me amazed. That era was just bad news bears, people. You know what this means, right? I am the proud owner of an Us Weekly subscription until March 2009. Do you know how much in my life will potentially change in two years? Everything! But not my status as a subscriber to Us Weekly! No siree! I'd like to think that this is a sign of something of a legacy that I will leave my children, too. Posted by Erin at 07:49 AM | | filed under: Random Stupidity , Supastah Tuesday, May 15, 2007
... but one quick thing?
If CBS does not renew "How I Met Your Mother" for another season, I will cut someone. Seriously. First person that steps in my way if they announce its cancellation gets hurt. Last night, as we watched the season finale, it was so clear that even the writers were unsure if they'd be back as they seemed to wrap things up, just in case. And it made me want to weep. That show is genius. In fact, I would say that it is legend .... wait for it ... dary. UPDATE: Whew! Everyone is safe. Thanks, Eliza, for the link! Viva la Barney! Posted by Erin at 11:34 AM | | filed under: Supastah Monday, May 07, 2007
Oh I hope so
"I've heard that Jaslene Gonzalez wins the whole thing, making her the first Puerto Rican winner. (I've also heard that Miss Cha Cha Diva likes to hang out at Tokyo 21, where she allegedly dropped the "I'm the winner" hints)." - Annie Tomlin, Time Out Chicago, A little birdy tells me Posted by Erin at 11:36 AM | | filed under: Supastah Thursday, May 03, 2007
In a perfect world
Prosecutor: Lock up Paris Hilton for 45 days With Joe Francis already in sitting around in a Florida jail, all we'd need to do is round up Lindsay Lohan, that woman who wrote The Secret, and the lead singer of Fall Out Boy and we could all finish out the spring on a high note. Posted by Erin at 03:20 PM | | filed under: Supastah Saturday, April 07, 2007
I know it shouldn't matter but ...
... I can't deal with all of these Hansons having babies. It's too much. Posted by Erin at 02:44 PM | | filed under: Supastah Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Crack babies
Does anyone else feel as though adopting babies is Angelina Jolie's crack? I know that's been bandied about before - hell, I said we were headed for this more than a year ago - but it's a little frightening. Didn't they just have a baby less than a year ago? And then adopted a little girl seconds before she popped out a child from their collective, perfect gene pools? I realize the argument can be made that she and Brad are saving these kids, and doing a lot of good, etc., etc., but I'm sorry - IT'S FREAKING ME OUT. Posted by Erin at 01:19 PM | | filed under: Supastah Saturday, February 17, 2007
OH MY GOD
Britney Spears is as bald as a cue ball. She has, as some like to say, officially dropped her basket. In fact, I think she keeps picking it back up just so she can drop it again. Posted by Erin at 11:21 AM | Comments (2) | filed under: Supastah Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Mo knows
Maureen Ryan, who is the television critic for the Chicago Tribune, is dead on when it comes to the Grey's Anatomy controversy. I love Mo. We have a best friend in common (Hi Jen!), and I'm always impressed at how thoughtful her pieces are. I know it's "just television" but when someone who is as talented as Mo breaks it down, especially after reading the comments that result from what she writes, you can't help but be amazed at the cultural impact television shows really have. Which means you all really need to read some of the comments Mo received from that post. People are so simple and narrow-minded that it boggles my brain. Posted by Erin at 07:49 AM | Comments (1) | filed under: Supastah Friday, January 12, 2007
I hate fighting with my friends
But clearly it looks as though me and my friend Rachelle are going to be throwing down tonight. He's mine. Oh yes. He's all mine. Posted by Erin at 11:31 AM | Comments (3) | filed under: Supastah Friday, November 10, 2006
Just Because I Said I Wasn't Going To Talk About Their Divorce ...
... didn't mean I wasn't going to still take shots at K-Fed! Or, more importantly, quote those who can do it a MILLION times better: Heh. Posted by Erin at 11:41 AM | Comments (5) | filed under: Supastah Monday, November 06, 2006
Doogie Is A Very Content Gay Man
In other news, the sky is blue and the grass is green. People, come on. Like you all didn't see that one coming. He's still so dreamy, isn't he? Come on. I know I'm not the only one out there who was crazy about Doogie. Posted by Erin at 12:29 PM | Comments (9) | filed under: Supastah Friday, June 23, 2006
RIP Aaron Spelling
Somewhere up in heaven right now, my mother has already tracked this man down to thank him for years and years of mindless entertainment, and for creating a world for her that included James Brolin meandering through a hotel lobby in between passionate make-out sessions with Connie Sellecca. Posted by Erin at 11:32 PM | | filed under: Supastah Thursday, March 23, 2006
Heh
The first way to assure that your superstar marriage/relationship fails is to do this. Can you imagine going through your life with Donna Martin on your arm? Perish the thought. Brenda, maybe. Donna? No. Posted by Erin at 07:23 AM | | filed under: Supastah Sunday, March 19, 2006
You Have To Wonder If She Threw Up In Her Own Mouth When She Said All This, Just A Little. Because I Did.
Posted by Erin at 06:05 PM | Comments (3) | filed under: Supastah Thursday, March 02, 2006
The Funniest Thing You Will Read All Week
I can't decide which line is my favorite: "What if the guy standing by the bar screaming "Whooo! Whoooeeooo!" every five seconds is doing so because of a medical condition and not, as one might assume, because he's a gigantic fan of the Stapp?" or "And that's more than can be said about the hipster dick army that'll tell you to your face things like, 'Rehearsing My Choir is actually a really rewarding listen when you finally, you know, GET it,' while all the while the twinges in the iris of their eye belie the fact that they don't actually believe a word that they're saying and that they cannot wait for their shift at the Supercool Factory to come to its merciful end." D.C. Experiences the Stapptasm Posted by Erin at 08:10 PM | | filed under: Music , Supastah Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Ugh
I am watching War of the Worlds and I cannot emphasize this strongly enough: Dakota Fanning is the most annoying child I have ever set eyes or ears on and I once babysit a kid who had a penchant for stripping off his diapers, running around the house and firing the damn things at will. I think she may be the devil. Posted by Erin at 09:39 PM | Comments (11) | filed under: Supastah Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Perhaps A Sign Of The End Of The World?
Posted by Erin at 07:05 PM | Comments (1) | filed under: Supastah Wednesday, January 18, 2006
You got me rollin' like a wheel on the road
I feel really bad. As soon as I saw "Former 70s Teenage Idol Arrested" I totally knew it was Leif. I mean, who else is it going to be? Donny Osmond? So I read the story and saw the horrible mug shot [Popups!] and was remembering that classic VH-1 Behind The Music when something happened. I could not for the life of me stop singing "I Was Made For Dancin'." And really, how tragic is that? The guy has a serious drug problem and his signature song, the one you remember whenever his name comes up, contains lyrics such as "Ah-hah, dancin'/I was made for dancin', ah-hah" and that's almost - I said "almost," people - as bad as the whole situation itself. Even worse? I still have the song in my head. Damn you, Leif! Damn you! Posted by Erin at 07:46 PM | | filed under: Supastah Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Throat. Hurts.
Despite my best efforts to remain healthy, I woke up this morning with the worst sore throat. I hate this time of year. Everyone is sick. I just heard from Ali who reports that Amy may have walking pneumonia. Good God. Walking pneumonia is something we joke about up in this house, no one we know actually gets it for God's sake. I hate being sick more than anything - more than bikini waxes, Web site trolls, Creed and even George W. Bush. Really. Just hate it. I am not a restful person by nature so having to sit still in one place makes me crazy. I will probably head out to the grocery store to secure some cold remedies, though it seems that anything I get to alleviate my symptoms won't really do much after all. Fine time to tell me that 'Tussin is bunk, people. Just the same, had I not been down with the bad throat I would not be able to post about this and I truly believe it was God's will. Is it just me, or is anyone else getting a huge wiff of Josephine Baker out of this? I get this feeling that the two of them are quickly on their way to forming their own little "Rainbow Tribe" and moving to some French villa where they'll live their days out in obscurity, teetering on bankruptcy, Angie constantly begging Brad for "Just one more, one more!" Posted by Erin at 10:42 AM | | filed under: Odds and ends , Supastah Tuesday, January 10, 2006
Oh Lindsey, SHUT UP
I think my favorite part of the story is the part where Vanity Fair says, "Every word Lindsay Lohan told [the reporter]is on tape. Vanity Fair stands by the story." Ahhh. The recorder. A reporter's best friend forever. If she really, REALLY thinks that anyone buys the whole "No I wasn't doing drugs" thing, she's well, she's smoking something. Something really strong. And she needs to share. Honestly, I sort of liked hearing her own up to the misdeeds. I've yet to find a girl who at that age, in one fashion or another, didn't implode a little bit. Ask me sometime about Put-In-Bay, Ohio or the phase of my life I like to call my "Wild Turkey Period." Own it, sister. Just own it. Posted by Erin at 08:27 PM | Comments (0) | filed under: Supastah Sunday, January 01, 2006
Already 2006 Is Disappointing Me
And I can't hear it. His site is down and Yahoo! music isn't giving it up. Oh, the HUMANITY. The song is called "Popozao." Apparently "popozao" is Portuguese for "big butt," which I think is rather fitting considering what an enormous ass this guy is. Posted by Erin at 10:27 AM | Comments (2) | filed under: Supastah Friday, November 25, 2005
He Can't Fool Me. He's Just Checking To Make Sure There Ain't No Out-of-Control Thetans In There
You know, I wonder if Scientologists also believe that a thesaurus is as off-limits as psychiatric drugs and talking during childbirth because Katie Holmes has yet to describe anything in her life as anything but "amazing." Not "astonishing?" Perhaps "marvelous" or is that too effusive? Can't even "wonderful" catch a break? Sadly, no. Just amazing. I caught a rerun of Dawson's Creek this morning and I wonder what Joey would have said about this new Katie Holmes. I am sure she would be equally as insulted by the stilted vocabularly as she would by the fact that Katie is marrying a guy who shells out big money to constantly monitor her womb. Posted by Erin at 02:24 PM | Comments (1) | filed under: Supastah Somewhere in Hollywood, Joe Simpson is Sleeping Off One Nasty Bourbon Bender
My sister, Kate, and I worked ourselves up into a frenzy yesterday afternoon as we discussed the separation of Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey. We are our mother's daughters and no one can possibly be more celebrity obsessed than she and I. Seriously. Kate and I come by our morbid curiosity for celebrity quite honestly. There was no way she and I wouldn't be subscribers to publications such as Us Weekly when we had a mother who monitored the lives of the cast of Hotel as though they were extended family of ours. It would be several years before I understood that, in fact, my mother didn't actually know Connie Sellecca. Yesterday, Kate barely had to utter the word "Did" before it was assumed that the following words would be "... you hear about Nick and Jessica?" We broke out into our own language, a boisterous mixture of screeching and heavy breathing and barking, not unlike the noise made by of a pack of rabid beasts descending upon a carcass in the wild. It was truly a race as to who could reveal the details of the split first for the rest of our family who, at this point, was just staring at us in wild-eyed amazement. I feel horrible for the kids. Really, I do. I think they truly had very geniune affection for each other. Time changes people and sometimes things just don't work out the way you plan. But really? Let's not forget the place that overbearing, slimey, creepy, "She's got double D's! You can't cover those suckers up!" show-fathers have on a relationship. I swear on all that is good and holy that a father who knows his grown daughter's cup size is a father who needs help. Plain and simple. So in essence I think it's one of those things that's probably bringing them a huge amount of sadness and heartache and they have to do it in the public eye and I can't imagine what that's like for them and I hate to be all cynical and mean but? Still? How genius were they to announce it late Wednesday, the night before Thanksgiving? SUPER GENIUS, I tell you. SUPER GENIUS. Posted by Erin at 11:37 AM | Comments (3) | filed under: Supastah Sunday, November 13, 2005
Your Rule Of Thumb Make Me Worrisome
Completely ignoring the fact that, Jesus, Mary and Joseph what does it say about a woman when all of her videos for the past decade have her acting out some insipid adolescent reveries, with her staring in all of them, and even, maybe, ignoring the fact that she, at age 36, continues to address adolescent topics in her music, never seeming to evolve in the manner you'd hope someone of her talent would, to say nothing of her need to unleash her horrid sense of fashion onto the world, as if we don't have enough problems with Ugg Boots and the BoHo Chic Aftermath of the summer, we now have to worry about shit like this corset assaulting our eyes, I have to say that I'm very worried about Gwen Stefani. Well, I'm worried about her hair. She messes with it so much I'm really concerned that one day it's all going to fall out. Posted by Erin at 09:26 AM | Comments (2) | filed under: Supastah Thursday, November 03, 2005
Funniest. Thing. Ever. Well. At Least Today.
Usually I think the AP sort of bites but that is the bestest lede in a long, long time. Posted by Erin at 08:42 PM | Comments (1) | filed under: Supastah Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Answer: Things Money Can't Buy
Question: What is Taste. A FEDORA. A FUCKING FEDORA. In what universe is wearing a FEDORA, excuse me, FUCKING FEDORA, a good idea on one's wedding day? Also? What's around her neck? Did Britney Murphy show up and go for the jugular and that's the most absorbent thing they could find to stop the bleeding and keep the happy ceremony rolling? Gah. Posted by Erin at 07:56 PM | Comments (4) | filed under: Supastah Tuesday, October 04, 2005
I Work Up To My Potential
I am not supposed to like the new Liz Phair. It's sort of the duty of those us who can still barely believe what's happened to her since she, presumably, snorted the entire bag of Satan's magicial dust off of The Matrix's ass that eventually turned her into Sheryl Crow. But God help me, some of her new stuff is delightfully sweet and filled with pop goodness and I know if a lesser-caliber artist pumped this out I'd be happy as a clam. Do you all know how obsessed I am with Kelly Clarkson? It's true. So yeah. The new album came out today and ... and it doesn't suck nearly as hard as the last one did. Not at all.
Posted by Erin at 10:59 PM | Comments (6) | filed under: Supastah Saturday, October 01, 2005
Nothing left to believe in. Nothing.
You know, I wasn't really all that surprised when Brad and Jen called it quits. You always got the impression from Brad that while he loved her very much, he wasn't exactly in love with her. He seems like the sort of person looking for A Soulmate. And anyway, I have to admit that on My List, Angelina is my Number One with a bullet. Nor was I surprised by Renee Zellweger, or Tori Spelling, or those two kids who are on a WB show together that I never watch but always read about in Us magazine. However, sometimes when a couple splits, it shakes a person to her core, causes her to question love and forever and wonder what is God's plan for all of us. I really thought they were the next Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward. Posted by Erin at 12:03 PM | Comments (6) | filed under: Supastah Thursday, September 29, 2005
File Under: "Incredible Waste Of Space"
"We could get over the rudeness, but the evilness, to be the villain, that is not acceptable." Gosh. And to think of all of the cops, firemen, doctors, businesspeople, et. al., that have had to endure such typecasting by Hollywood over the years. It's a wonder they didn't boycott, too! Gah. You people have been eating one pack of in-flight peanuts too many. Posted by Erin at 07:04 AM | Comments (8) | filed under: Random Stupidity , Supastah Wednesday, September 14, 2005
The Cheeto Has Landed
It would probably be too much to ask that The Federfetus come out holding a baby-sized can of Red Bull, wouldn't it? It's not this kid's fault that his parents are who they are, but Jesus it's all so unfair. How is it that these people can have a kid yet there are thousands of people out there who can't, who no doubt wouldn't have been mainlining Frappucinos during the last trimester! As a friend said to me recently, life seems as though it is a lot easier for those who are impregnanted by their backup dancers. Posted by Erin at 09:01 PM | | filed under: Supastah Tuesday, September 06, 2005
The Best News In A Long Time
Everyone loves Chachi. EVERYONE. Posted by Erin at 10:18 PM | | filed under: Supastah Monday, August 08, 2005
Tara Reid Is An Assclown
Honestly. First it's the horrendous breast job and the frolicking and the trashiness and the ... oh it's all just too awful. And I know she protests that it's all bad luck and ill-timed events and things taken out of context but here is the thing: Smooshing your breasts into a dress that's way too tight, opting to leave the house with your hair so disheveled that it looks as though you were having sex in the backseat of your daddy's Olds, well Tara? That's nobody's fault but your own. My friends are on orders to lock me into a room should it ever come to this. Posted by Erin at 06:42 PM | Comments (5) | filed under: Supastah Friday, July 22, 2005
I Heart Courtney Love
On her recent weight gain: "I was really, really thin because of [the drugs] I was doing," she told the Daily News. "When all these little teenyboppers finally go into rehab, they're going to get fat, too." Word, sister. Posted by Erin at 06:04 PM | Comments (2) | filed under: Supastah Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Bad Skin, Doll Heart
Is it just me or does Britney resemble Courtney Love more and more with each passing day? Posted by Erin at 09:35 AM | Comments (0) | filed under: Supastah Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Golden Ticket Indeed.
Posted by Erin at 01:40 PM | Comments (4) | filed under: Supastah Wednesday, June 22, 2005
Pet Peeve #4,569
Why does everyone feel the need to shorten up celebrity names? Do they need to get any more precious than they already are? I know Jennifer Lopez started it all by trying to get us all to believe that her closest friends called her "JLo," and that's the only reason she used that moniker, and it subsequently spread like an STD. I get that. She annoys me, but it was a clever marketing device and it worked. We're lemmings, JLo knows that. This morning a friend of mine emails me in response to a link I sent to him about Lindsey Lohan. It was funny, it mocked her appearance yesterday on the Today Show, it mocked her in general. My friend, however, had to respond to the email by calling her, "LiLo." Can we all just stop the madness? Is that really necessary? Why is it that we all have to walk around, talking as though we're Page Six or something? Agh. Posted by Erin at 07:37 AM | | filed under: Supastah Monday, June 20, 2005
Did You Know That Hip-Hop Artists Sample From Previously Released Songs, Too?
Really, does this sort of tidbit surprise anyone? Does it really? If it does, shame on you for being such a romantic! Go back to your hole! Back, I say! Posted by Erin at 06:18 PM | | filed under: Supastah Friday, June 17, 2005
No I've Got Half-A-Mil In Stereo Equipment Up There For A Campus Alt-Rock Band.
Let me tell you something, this news is cushioning the blow of the unspeakable coupling of Holmes and Cruise -- or as the genius that is stereogum.com is calling them "TomKat". I want him to just have drinks with me while the whole time he quotes lines from Old School to me as I'm bathing his feet in my lusty, joyful tears. He's unspeakably dreamy -- I don't care how bloated he's become -- and in a world full of chaos, it's nice to know he's coming home. Posted by Erin at 06:48 PM | | filed under: Supastah What's So Funny Bout Peace Peace Peace? Love And ...
Just as a point of reference, me and The Piven back in January 2004, when I had flaming red hair and by evidence of the color in my cheeks, far too much to drink. Seriously, dude's gotta be wearing a wig of some sort. Plugs? You think they could be plugs? Could I be that lucky? Posted by Erin at 05:52 PM | | filed under: Supastah The Only Appropriate Answer Given From A Man Or Woman To The Question That Begins, "If You Were Going To Sleep With Any Female Superstar, Who Would You Choose?"
"You know what's wrong with this country? I can kiss my brother on the mouth and wear my husband's blood around my neck and tell a magazine I'm sleeping with two men and three women and a knife all at the same time and everyone kind of raises an eyebrow and shrugs. And yet, I'm tenuously linked to one pretty-boy, kind of dumb movie star and the entire nation grinds to a halt and goes apeshit. Seriously, you people need to get your voyeuristic priorities straightened out. Weirdos." Posted by Erin at 05:50 PM | | filed under: Supastah I Probably Should Have Mentioned That I Only Managed To Watch One-And-A-Half Episodes Of This Show Before I Felt My Soul Start To Shrivel Up
Posted by Erin at 05:21 PM | | filed under: Supastah Tuesday, June 07, 2005
Naturally
After the completion of the final position (the "Crippled Butterfly Wheelbarrow," if memory serves), Scientology officials will take the couple's e-meter readings and publicly certify that both parties fully enjoyed the proceeding acts of congress. Anything short of this coup de grace is going to look like amateur hour. Posted by Erin at 07:29 AM | | filed under: Supastah Tuesday, May 17, 2005
Y'ALL, INDEED.
"Out of all of the celebrities in the world you could marry, which one would you marry?" K-Fed, without missing a beat, replies: "None of y'all." And, please, brother. You were not "tipsy." You and the Missus were as high as skyscrapers. Clearly that's some primo shit you can score in the UK. It was the most beautiful show I have ever seen and I swear to God, Britney is just ... Oh she's just wonderful. Posted by Erin at 10:19 PM | | filed under: Supastah Utter Chaos
Dudes. I was sitting under the dryer at the salon tonight, enough tinfoil on my head to communicate with Pluto, when it dawned on me that I completely forgot to TiVo the Britney Spears Spectacular.
With lightening-quick speed, I dashed to my purse and made a quick call to my husband who, despite being K-Fed up to here with my Britney Spears obsession, agreed to TiVo Chaotic for me so that I could handle their truth when I was done. So here I sit, waiting for our dinner to finish cooking, ready to, you know, handle some of her truth. Their truth. Their trashiness. I am so excited that I'm just seconds away from ripping into the bag of Baked Cheetos in my kitchen and going to town. Tell me. Did you watch? I know you did. Posted by Erin at 08:47 PM | | filed under: Supastah Tuesday, May 10, 2005
You Had Me At What The F*@$?!
I never thought there would come a day where I would wonder how Jack White was doing but here you go. Today is the day. Posted by Erin at 07:25 AM | | filed under: Supastah Thursday, April 14, 2005
I wonder what Lionel thinks of all of this.
If I pulled a cake out of the oven and dipped you into it, I would know whether it was done baking. Posted by Erin at 02:47 PM | | filed under: Supastah Tuesday, April 12, 2005
Somebody Is Pregnant.
Posted by Erin at 06:26 PM | Comments (0) | filed under: Supastah Wednesday, April 06, 2005
No, ejshea.com Is Not Going All-Britney But I Can't Help Myself
If Britney and Kevin break up before the conclusion of their UPN reality show, it'll be like the white-trash, pop star, background-dancing, bastard-child making version of Kirstie Alley's show but without all of the wailing, blonde highlights, dogs, gratuitous junk-food eating, and cult religions. Oh wait. Posted by Erin at 12:34 PM | | filed under: Supastah Tuesday, April 05, 2005
Oh. My. God. Part Deux
I can't stand reality TV but I swear on all that is good and holy that I will TiVo the crap out of this show should it contain live footage of Britney Spears walking barefoot in and out of gas station bathrooms. Seriously, I would just watch that on constant loop. Posted by Erin at 12:48 PM | | filed under: Supastah Thursday, March 31, 2005
Oh My God.
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Hi, Katherine Heigl?
Such a lovely girl, 
Here it is, 10:28 a.m. on New Year's Day, and the only thing tempting me out of my bed and out of my hungover state is the promise of a strong cup of coffee, a screening of 
Seriously, you all know that 
My favorite part was not when Britney went around asking everyone what was their favored position from which to snarf the flesh Cheeto, if you know what I mean and I think that you do, but the part where she and Kevin are taping each other using the NIGHT VISION SETTING, and Britney asks Kevin:
Seriously. How daft can I be? Were highlights and a new hairstyle enough reasons to forget the sole purpose of any of us owning a television, let alone being conscious and engaged in life itself? I think not. 
You know for as much as I wanted to believe that she'd just gone ahead and let herself go to complete pot, and wasn't afraid to let the whole world know, I must admit that I feel an incredible sense of relief -- bordering on zen, really -- knowing that we still live in a world where pop stars will only show belly roll with wanton abandon