Thursday, August 31, 2006

Celebrity Snapshot

Fresh from his latest film, Spank My Tail, PVS lounges by the pool but freaks out when fat children do cannonballs off the diving board. When asked about his movie, he bit me and ran away.

Armstrong Avenue


No yellow jersey
Autumn so melancholy
McConaughey mine?

Running on the beach
Please, no yolks in my omelets
Part for me on Scrubs?

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Dr. Haiku

Hi so McDreamy!
We see you at the Emmys
No like the flat hair

The Emmys

Verdict: Zzzzzzzzzz but way better than the Oscars (not Jon Stewart's fault).

Since I was a child, I've watched every possible award show. Lately, I've grown bored of them and wonder if it's celebrity fatigue or if these shows are really bad. This year's prime time Emmys were fine, but gone are the days when someone falls on his face, does silly dance numbers choreographed by Debbie Allen, fumbles, drinks too much and shows it, gropes a breast or ignores the teleprompter. The speeches are the same, starting with an Oh my god, I worked with such great people, my parents, blah, blah, blah...The most notable ones this year were made my non-actors.

Conan O'Brien (and Jon Stewart, for that matter) did a fine job, though had to deal with an Ambien-friendly medium and a politically correct audience. So, just to stir things up, I was thinking, I should get an award and it should be televised. I do a mean walk from my couch to my computer. No one can beat the frightening alacrity with which I attack a Sudoku puzzle. I remember birthdays and can still do a cartwheel. Not to mention, I've eaten more Altoids than anyone on the planet. Surely, these feats are worth an award.

Why do I keep watching these people get golden statuettes, when the entertainment value keeps going down? Why am I contributing to the disease of Acquired Situational Narcissism? And why can't the cast of Grey's Anatomy give me an award? Celebrities might be used to the praise they get, so maybe our little lives will culminate in one of those big Mr. Holland's Opus endings. That movie did make me cry at the end...Okay, and so did the reunion of Charlie's Angels.

In any case, one must wait for the Golden Globes, since the stars can really get trashed at their tables. Jim Carrey has to re-emerge and make his butt talk.

Sunday, August 27, 2006

Keanu's Korner

Dangerous Liaisons Haiku

Sing high with Uma
Use big sword with the Malkie
Kiss Glenn Close boobies

Saturday, August 26, 2006

Star Sighting

Saw Hope Davis, in horizontal striped blue dress, walking down 6th Avenue near Old Navy. We locked eyes and I wanted to ask her why all the vomiting in The Secret Lives of Dentists? Couldn't they have imparted the message of family bonding without the spew?

Friday, August 25, 2006

Today's Celebrity Snapshot

Pooper von Skooper, who recently starred in the hit film Please Stop Putting Post-It Notes on My Paws, was caught canoodling with Atlanta, a yellow elephant. When asked if they were an item, Pooper responded, "She's stuffed."

Damonetics: A Proverb

An old woman, unfair of face, stumbled through the woods, picking her way through tree roots, branches and leaves. The townspeople laughed at her awkward gait and turned to their children. "Let this be a lesson. Remain poised at all times. Don't look for ways to ruin your manicure." The young'uns nodded sagely and vowed never to be like the haggy old woman.

After picking a mere half-basket of boysenberries, said ungraceful creature found a clearing in the woods, decided to seek succor, when she stumbled over a log and landed on her face.

"Watch out," a hooded man barked, appearing from behind a shady elm.

The old lady lifted her battered face. "Who be ye?" she croaked.

"I have an important lesson to impart," he said, a wisp of blond hair appearing from the burlap.

Where did he come from? she asked herself. No less than godlike, the man must have been sent to watch over her. Her cheeks flushed in anticipation. The sun's rays pierced the foliage and warmed the two as they beheld one another. Though bleeding from the face, the old woman knew she was in the presence of something good.

"I'm waiting," she said breathlessly.

Those ruby lips parted, his glistening eyes radiating the wisdom of all the ages. "Watch where you're going."

And so, young readers, when you encounter a Damon in the woods, be sure to walk nice and heed his Word.

Thursday, August 24, 2006

"You have to surrender to wisdom."

So said Christopher Knight to his twenty-three-year-old betrothed Adrianne Curry on the last episode of "My Fair Brady." He stormed out of the restaurant and met the cameras at the church where he would marry Ms. Curry in two days. After ordering her to join him at the church for an impromptu argument, Knight stared into the night. His shirt strategically unbuttoned, the future groom unleashed his ire to a blindsided bride. Surrender to wisdom. It was spontaneous and deep. When I have problems with people, I deliver just such gems to them...accompanied by a series of pirouettes off stage. Maybe reality television is climbing to new heights.

Another Peter Brady nugget: When Knight and Curry go to a relationship counseling retreat, he makes the stunning discovery that he isn't sensitive enough to her needs. In a gesture of overwhelming guilt, Knight drinks and sulks throughout the rest of the retreat, so tormented is he by his selfish behavior. Now, that's an evolved homo erectus and I'm proud he came through the session with a more actualized sense of self.

And this reminds me of when Peter's voice changed. After two marriages and now embarking on a third with such public enlightment, Christopher Knight knows that when it's time to change, it's time to rearrange. Best of luck to the happy couple.
ps. I would invite her to the slumber party not only for her level-headedness, but for her exceptional burping.

H-unemployed Haiku

Paramount be gone!
Will dance in undies for food
Must date Scarlett now!

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Keanu's Korner

Frenching Annie Hall
Me doctor with Ph.D!
Using me for sex?

Keanu's Korner

Feel my pecs, so hard!
I am son of Al-Satan
Pitchfork in the butt

10 Fun Things Mel Gibson and Robin Williams Will Do Together in Rehab:

1. Mel will spout anti-Orkian slurs.
2. Robin will take over every conversation.
3. Both will calculate how much more effectively their rehab stints will promote their movies.
4. One will call the other "Chicken Little" in the showers.
5. Who got to kiss hotter babes? Hmmm. Nathan Lane or Michelle Pfeiffer?
6. Robin will pee on Mel at least once.
7. Mel and Robin in rehab...the reality show?
8. As Mel tells his life story, Robin will pull him into an embrace and tell him repeatedly, "It's not your fault."
9. There will be endless fighting--who stole whose thunder by drinking?
10. Mel will tweak Robin's "sugar tits." [allegedly what he'd called one of the female police officers when he was arrested.]

Celebrity Predictions:

1. Tom and Katie will not marry, neither will Nicolette Sheridan and Michael Bolton.
2. A wildly expected celebrity sex tape will wind up on the Internet just as his/her movie comes out in October.
3. Bump watch: Nicole Kidman, Pamela Anderson, Portia di Rossi, Jessica Simpson
4. Christy Brinkley and Peter Cook will reconcile, then be interviewed by Barbara Walters.
5. Breakups: Eva Longoria from Tony Parker; Denise Richards from Richie Sambora.
6. Surprise third wedding of reckless rock star and cast member of "The OC".
7. Reality show of star from 80s will appear this fall and last two episodes.

Keanu's Korner

Yay! Me kiss Sandy!
Love so hard in modern age
Tickle my Bullocks?

A Lesson in How to Interprete Duran Duran's Lyrics

New Moon on Monday
Shake up the picture the lizard mixture
With your dance on the eventide
You got me coming up with answers
All of which I deny
I said it again
Could I please rephrase it
Maybe I can catch a ride
I couldn't really put it much plainer
But I'll wait till you decide
Send me your warning siren
As if I could ever hide
Last time La Luna

Class has started. Let's take the first line. Simon Le Bon has taken his second bong hit and sees the desert of...Birmingham, England. Oh wait, this is the album Duran Duran wrote while vacationing in Montserrat. Simon is dating Claire the Canadian and maybe he sees her dancing on the eventide. As she frolics, he prepares sensible answers to her questions--Simon, why are your eyes so red? Simon, you're cute but why am I itchy? He ponders the likely end of the relationship and scans the moon-drenched horizon for a ride. After all, Yasmin Le Supermodel is waiting.

Salamanders crawl across his gnarled toes and he imagines maggots spouting from under his toenails. This is turning into a bad trip as sirens blare in the background. Claire appears at his side and escorts him into a noisy car. He doesn't feel bad but perhaps he's lost control--note: forgot to put on a headband, discovered the magic of gel instead.With one last burst of energy he finds the window of the car, hoists his body and gives onlookers a nice view of his Duran Duran la luna. That's how a Duran Duran song is written.

Britney's Beat
A Haiku

Snap, snap, burp, wedgie
Get me some frosty gloss
Tigers, intense y'all!

Keanu's Korner
haiku, 8/4/06

Me the bad Don John
Me talk the Billy Shakespeare
Come hear me go "grrrrrrrr"

Hooligan Haiku

I do bad, bad things
Blow, sing, faint, writhe--oh ugly!
I so famous, please?



Brick Bronson here. As a serious journalist, I have to ask - is Lance Bass' self-confessed homosexuality news? I was asking myself this very question today, as I lounged in my bubble bath after taping another scintillating episode of Rough Copy News. As a clearly heterosexual male, I admit, it's disgusting. But dear readers, I implore you to look at the subject material here - boy bands? I thought it was common knowledge that to get into these cacophonic entities one had to give a blow job at the audition. (Not that I'd know from experience, or anything.)

What is a Retread?
by LDF

Retread Syndrome: Coined around 2000 by LDF. Has really only been used by her, but older brother knows what it means. Here is what it means: A conditioned developed by one who has done everything imaginable, therefore is no longer interesting. When a Retread appears in the gossip columns, you don't care the way you used to. Retreads put you to sleep with their antics. You don't even have the energy to say, "Get a life." Their attempts to shock and amaze seem desperate.

Example of Retreads: Paris Hilton (lifetime member), Kevin Federline (lifetime member), Britney Spears, Mick Jagger, Tara Reid, Charlie Sheen, Steven Tyler, Ben Affleck, Dave Navarro, Courtney Love, Nick Nolte, Gary Busey, Billy Joel, Kate Moss, Naomi Campbell, Russell Crowe, Billy Bob Thorton, Robert Downey, Jr.

Keanu's Korner

Glasses uniform
Monster glide through the big whoa
Don't harsh my mellow

Kyra Sedgewick Appreciation Day

by LDF

I was reluctant to watch "The Closer" because I am tired of fake Southern accents (Tom Hanks in The Green Mile; Susan Sarandon in most anything—though we love her; would go on if my barbecue and collared greens weren’t burning). I couldn’t resist a tough broad and within a couple of episodes, I forgot that Kyra Sedgewick even had an accent. Only an amazing actress could turn another police show into such a success. As an aside, Kyra Sedgewick stole “Twelfth Night” out from under Helen Hunt—then, the Big Thing—eight years ago.

Now, if I could turn to not-as-successful celebrity accents:

The Dreaded Steven Seagal's Brooklyn accent in Out for Justice--though his beret gives it all a French twist.

Billy Crudup in Stage Beauty (Claire Danes was, like, so much better).

Keanu Reeves does British…or something in Bram Stoker’s Dracula.

Hugh Laurie’s American accent in “House” is dead-on but we still want to smack him for being so smug about it.

Ralph Fiennes’s American accent in Maid in Manhattan. Oh wait, no, we didn’t watch that movie.

Russell Crowe in anything where he plays an American, i.e. The Insider where he went from Brooklyn to Connecticut Wasp to Southern.

Julia Roberts in Mary Reilly, but we can’t talk too much about this because we want to join her knitting circle someday. Especially won’t mention her off-key singing in Everyone Says I Love You. It's okay, Julia. I once took a semester of Modern Dance. I did crazy leaps across a gym for three months.

To bring this full-circle, did you know Kyra Sedgewick and Julia Roberts played sisters in Something to Talk About?

Keanu's Korner

Keanu so tired
Gazing into the wild day
Have to go poopy

Keanu's Korner--a haiku

Pretty boy with big bike
Scar on belly from a crash
Why you ride so fast?

Celebrity Backfat

by Laurel DelFesse

As your East Coast star liaison, I will always bring you the truth about the stars. My Master's in French literature and tenure dating cyclists (Lance sucks!) prepared me for this role.

So without further ado, here's what I know. Spread the word:

1. Julia Roberts has hips and the mole under her eye is real.
2. Last week I saw Liev Shreiber walking near Penn Station. We made eye contact and I could tell he wanted to pursue it but I looked away. Someday, I hope Naomi Watts will let me brush her long blond hair.
3. Chess superhero Garry Kasparov eats French onions (or they could have been American scallions?) as violently as Bugs Bunny eats carrots. I still have nightmares and once woke up with teeth marks on my arm.
4. I saw Paul Rudd in a g-string. He was on stage and it sort of worked for him.
5. Matthew Modine crossed my waking life twice: Once when he was sauntering down the street in combat boots, leather underwear and dangling chains; the second time he was instructing tourists where to get good fried chicken.

6. Joe Torre once touched my hand (I shoved it in his face) and I was so excited, I almost threw up.
7. I walked in on Bart Freundlich in the bathroom as he was helping his kid pee.

While Tom and Katie are hiding their pet ersatz-gote, you can salivate over the minutia of The Seen. Stay tuned for more. Now, I have to hide behind more trees.

Brick Bronson Brings You The World

Brick Bronson here. West Coast correspondent for CSFTS. Happy to be among the few, the proud, the under-medicated. As a veteran journalist, I have covered the world's most significant events such as Tom and Katie's courtship; Tom and Katie's break-up; and Tom and Katie's reconciliation. (And was proud to squelch those rumors once and for all about the identity of that baby; now the world can rest in the comforting knowledge that Scientology and scientists have successfully collaborated in the first human cloning. Hello, Dolly...)

Other big stories you may remember from the annals of my work include the detailed analysis of how celebrities actually get those fabulous gowns for the red carpet in, "Hand Jobs Versus Dirty Knees;" the drama and human suffering surrounding Lindsay Lohan's successful third rehab and Pam Anderson's latest bustatory enhancements; and, finally, in just what may be the pinnacle of my investigative prowess, the truth about Nicole Kidman's panty line.

I'm honored to have finally slept my way up to the middle, and to be talking trash with the talented like of Warren Piece and Clandes Tine. I'll be here, frequently, to keep you up to date on the latest and greatest. Count on me, Brick Bronson [insert dramatic head sweep here] to bring you news that matters, news that makes a difference, news that...well, you get the point.

Damonetics: The New Religion

First we should define it:

Damonetics--a religion, way of life, governed by the laws pertaining to Matt Damon.

Damonetics takes years from your chronological age, will cause you to spout cliches during interviews, might even impregnate you with an alien child if your passion runs high. The laws of Damonetics, as with hair care, are simple and finite.

As a servant of Damonetics, you will obey its commandments. We have eleven, possibly more.

1. Thou shalt not make a movie like The Legend of Bagger Vance again.
2. Thou shalt not worship false Damons.
3. Thou shalt not use the Damon's name in vain.
4. Thou shalt honor Matt Damon despite his love for the Red Sox.
5. Thou shalt not steal anyone's Matt Damon DVDs unless for purposes of a communal offering to the pastor of Damonetics (Warren).
6. Thou shalt never mention the "L" word unless it's a show on HBO.
7. Thou shall always think of Matt during those special alone times.
8. Thou shall Damonize well and often.
9. Thou shalt covet thy Damon's life.
10. Thou shalt pretend to understand the movie Dogma.
11. Thou shalt lie in the name of Damon, especially if the bed is in a shabby apartment in Southside Boston and your boyfriend is a janitor math genius.

Old Men Running Around Naked in Movies
by Clandes Tine

Run, don't walk to your nearest Netflix to see old men naked. Particularly appetizing are:

A barely robed Frank Langella running naked in Lolita.
Bob Hoskins strips down in Mrs. Henderson Presents.
An almost full monty of Terry Bradshaw in Failure to Launch.
In Something's Gotta Give, we can ponder the hubris of modernity while gazing at Jack Nicholson's butt.
Feast your eyes on a naked butt Dream Team of Clint Eastwood, James Garner, Donald Sutherland and Tommy Lee Jones in Space Cowboys. Does Clandes dare admit a lethal attract to Sutherland? It must be his voiceovers for those orange juice commercials.

Any others?

Rumors Not by Fleetwood Mac
by Warren Piece

There was a recent rumor running rampant that Matt and Ben are getting back together to work on a new version of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Those who know Mr. Piece know he is serious about Mr. Damon. Mr. Piece has been waiting to welcome Matt for many a year now. So marriage can't keep these boys apart, it seems.

You know, when you have a really good friend you can share just everything with them from the time you enter puberty to the time you win an Oscar for "writing" a film, and, well, it's just a really special thing. And then girls enter the picture, with their big, puffy boobies and their hoo hoos all wet and teasing. It can do strange things to you. Like make you buy expensive jewelry for the girl (and you don't get the jewelry back when the girl drops you for some hot Latin singer with lizard-like skin). Sometimes, you even get an email address from your waitress and you write her long, gushy notes about what it's like to be missing your best bud while you toil away at building your career and she seems all understanding and stuff, writing you back things like "yeah, I know," and "gee, that really sucks."

I tell ya, when best buddies lose each other on life's little turnpike, they will always miss each other. And they'll always yearn for what they know they really need. So it would have been good to see them working together again. All I want is for Matt to be happy, after all. But alas, I understand it isn't true. Matt and Ben will not be Butch and Sundance. Which is a shame, 'cause they would have looked really butch at Sundance promoting the darn thing.

But I now understand there's a new rumor that says Matt and Ben will be together again after all! Is Ben going to be in The Bourne Ultimatum? Will Matt be in Gone, Baby, Gone? Why can't all the information come out all at once instead of a little bit at a time? Or is it all just a nasty rumor...?
The Cute Boy Report
by Warren Piece

Here we are with the very first Cute Boy Report! In this column I’ll be dishing all the cutest boys and what or who they’re doing, and whether or not they’re doing it for me. So where the heck is Emile Hirsch these days? If you need to ask who he is, you’re obviously not on my Christmas card list, ‘cuz one year not so long ago my cards featured this cutie totally nudie. And it brought me many hours of comfort and joy. Emile was half-naked in The Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys and then gave us the full (rear) monty in The Girl Next Door. Frequently one to eschew big-budget costuming, he wore unflattering underwear in The Mudge Boy and saggy skaterwear in The Lords of Dogtown. So where is he now?

He’s been working on a special little project with Bruce Willis and Justin Timberlake. “Hold on,” you say, “Justin’s in a film?!!!” Well, not if some nasty lawyers have anything to say about it. Seems Alpha Dog, the Nick Cassavetes ode to surburban teenage crime sprees is being litigated ‘cuz some of it’s true or something like that. It’s based on a San Fernando Valley guy who allegedly kidnapped the son of a popular drug supplier and then got painted into a tight corner and had to have the boy iced. Of course, I hate to see boys iced (unless you’re dragging the ice up and down their smooth, sweaty, hot chest), but missing the chance to see Emile in a new film is enough to make me hate the lawyers who are holding up the whole project.

And speaking of holding up a project, who or what’s been holding up Kieran Culkin since Igby went down? It’s been four years and all we’ve heard out of the Culkin household is Michael Jackson this and Rachel Miner that. At least Macaulay was a Party Monster who eventually got Saved! since Kieran’s last call. Kieran, why do you keep us hanging? Meanwhile, Macaulay’s former Good Son co-star, Elijah (gave me) Wood is looking a little less cute since everything got illuminated for him. He seems to have cut off most of his hair! And frankly, without the head of hair, all we’re left with is some seriously freaky eyes. Listen boys, I know bald is in, but there’s plenty of time for that when you’re cashing your social security checks. As Brad Pitt once said to Tom Cruise in the lost scene from Interview With the Vampire, “the beauty of this is that your hair is always shiny, silky and shimmering in the midnight sun!”

Okay, okay, the real issue here is Emile Hirsch. I don’t really care about whether this Alpha Dog story is real or imagined. I just want to know what Emile will or won’t be wearing! That boy is seriously cute and I’ll gladly alpha his dog any time he wants!
Hard to Wait
by Clandes Tine

Saturday, June 24, 2006: Daytime, hot rain and steam rise from the pavements. I don't even feel the rain as I sashay to the Big Apple Comic Book Convention, gagging for Steven Seagal's autograph. I don't want to tug his pony tail. Let me bask in his enlightened Tulku aura and admire his tall bodaciousness. Anyone who can be immobile in an action movie has my approval. Moreover, Steven cured me of my fear of flying. When I'm afraid, I look to the light and he's there, the shadow figure (in a long gaudy black jacket and love beads) ready to carry my plane to safety.

The convention room is stuffy, the ticket-taker a bitch, but I go to my place in line. When the security man flirts with me -- I am one of the few girls in line -- I flirt back. Rob Thomas Lookalike next to me is too young for serious middle-aged come-ons but I humor his youth and vitality, enjoy all the earrings in his ears. What's his favorite fight scene? Did you know Steven directed ON DEADLY GROUND? Yeah, Steven Seagal directed Michael Caine in a movie.

But what's this? Oh, to get Steven Seagal's autograph, you have to purchase his CD, Mojo Priest, for 30$, other autographs an additional 20$. Because Master Steven has at least six children to support, I put forth the dough. What is money really? Just an exchange of services and meeting your idol is priceless. Besides, Steven is playing his music. I turn over the CD to read the Buddha inspired song titles. "Alligator Ass"..."Talk to my ass?" Qu'est-ce que c'est? Maybe the ass is another venue by which to spread his message. The ass is natural. You can't live without your ass.

After checking the time, I turn to less sturdy fans, who were given chairs after the first two hours. They know, too, the Buddhist theme of life as suffering. Is there a reason Steven is making us wait? I throw on my cynical hat and snort, "He's probably getting a massage." Rob Thomas Lookalike shakes his head and clutches his bag of posters. "He'll be here any minute. He's only a few blocks away," the mantra goes for three hours. And so, after 180 minutes of standing -- which is nothing to how long Steven must meditate daily -- I ask myself, "What Would Steven Do?"

I leave. My parting thought toward Steven can only be expressed as such: Talk to my ass.