Pregnant Mariah Carey Naked Photo Shoot Barely Shocks

Clutching her right breast with a come hither arm raised gently over a golden flowing mane, eight-weeks pregnant (with twins) and ready to pop Mariah Carey graces the cover of "Life & Style Weekly." Naked as a jaybird, Carey joins the ranks of other pregnant celebrities who have posed naked on magazine covers. Demi Moore, Britney Spears, and Christina Aguilera all come to mind.

More than twenty years after Moore stunned the world with her daring expose, Carey's naked swell barely raises eyebrows. Been there, seen that. Naked pregnant women have lost their edge. Other than navigating newsstand placement, where's the controversy?

I'm not going to criticize Carey for exposing her naked pregnant body -- dark line running down the center of her stomach and belly button flattened wide like roadkill on a dark country road -- for all the world to ogle. Truth be told, she looks radiantly lovely, a mother-to-be in true Botticelli form.

No, my gripe is with her choice of magazine. "Life & Style," is she serious? Couldn't she have picked a rag with wider circulation? I mean, Demi let it all hang out for "Vanity Fair," Britney laid bare for "Harper's Bazaar," and Christina went au naturel for "Marie Clare." Not that these are the creme de la creme of periodicals, though in their own way, they are at the top of their game. In contrast, Carey seems to be scraping the bottom of the barrel. Up until her naked shoot, I had no idea this magazine existed.

Also, what's all this about Carey and husband Nick Cannon adorning the walls of their family home with naked photos? According to Daily Mail, Cannon would rather skip the public display.

"My children are going to have to see these pictures. It's a little weird," he said during his Rollin' with Nick Cannon radio show. "It's a little nasty," he continued. "I mean, have you ever seen your parents naked? When they get older and their friends come over... they will see the pictures and say, 'Your daddy's butt naked.'"

Cannon's remarks are puzzling. If these photos are the least bit nasty, why hang them in an area of the family home where visitors will see them? For that matter, why display them at all, or let them appear in a weekly magazine? I don't get it. Can't Cannon and Carey hang these beauties in a private area of their home? Better yet, stick them in a scrapbook, tuck them away in a dark closet, and only pull them out for special occasions?

That'll put an end to disturbing glances from puzzled houseguests.


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‘Celebrity Apprentice’ Recap: Niki Taylor Loses Battle of Airheads

This article first published as TV Open Thread: Celebrity Apprentice - Niki Taylor Loses Battle of Airheads on Blogcritics.

For a comprehensive recap of last night’s episode, mosey on down to Don Jr.'s official blog. There you’ll find a blow-by-blow account of the show's major talking points (which I’m sure will be updated soon). Two hours of Trump boot camp is much too much to summarize here. Besides, it’s more fun to focus on all the back stabbing and mud-slinging that happens on the show.

If pressed to characterize what went down last night, I’d call it "Battle of the Airheads." In this corner, for the women, presenting Niki Taylor: supermodel, crash victim, and "free and easy" PM. Niki is the kind of gal who doesn’t mind flouting her lack of mental prowess. While traveling with fellow model Hope to prepare print materials for the task – creating an outdoor camping experience to best showcase the RV and camping products of corporate behemoth Camping World — Niki confessed she wasn’t sure if they were living in the 20th or 21st century.

"Centuries I remember as 100 because there’s 100 cents on the dollar," Hope suggested as some kind of mental trigger. I still don’t understand the connection between centuries and dollars.

And in this corner, for the men, it’s PM Gary Busey: recovering addict, force of nature, and likewise a crash victim. Only in this case, the man landed on his head and hasn’t been the same since.

"I am focused like you can’t believe," Gary emphasized at the show’s outset. Oh yeah? Well then why without fail does every member of his team regard him as an unfocused buffoon? Is it jealousy over his Trump-proclaimed "genius" or disdain over having to carry an extra load?

For the record, despite Gary’s inadequacies and glaring inability to lead, the men pulled off a stunning victory. Say what you will about the power of positive thinking, John’s pandering country ballad, and lucky breaks (that’s "Living Under Correct Knowledge Yearly" according to Gary), but if the men had lost, they would have sent Gary's head to the chopping block. Yes, Jose gives a bad name to lazy, overhyped sports personalities — sitting on his duff, reading a magazine, and taking a nap throughout the task – but the team convinced Gary to accept the PM slot because, let’s face it, they want him gone.

"You’re at risk, you know that," cautioned The Donald when Team Backbone announced Gary as PM. "I’m at risk every time I wake up," countered Gary. I think he was serious.

Clearly, Meat Loaf is not a fan. He and Gary locked heads last week waiting for Lisa to get the boot. And Lil Jon confessed he "wasn’t feeling" Gary after some tussling over the task. The two of them argued all the way home from the boardroom despite an impressive win. For his part, Gary called Jon an antagonist.

Off the subject, has anyone noticed a subtle change in The Donald’s hair? I swear he’s turning from blond to white. Maybe it was the sunlight or the camera angle. You know he’s about to become a grandpa.

But getting back to Gary, the guy is such a character it would be a shame to give him the ax, at least at this point in the competition. I sometimes think Trump and friends keep him around just to boost ratings, but then again, the women truly did deserve to lose.

Niki, however, made a huge mistake by shouldering blame for the women’s loss. I don’t care if her team finally worked well together or if Niki wanted the "class act" moniker more than a spot in the final, that girl should have stayed and stepped up for charity. Dionne failed spectacularly not only by skipping the trip to Home Depot (and thus costing Niki shrubbery needed to beautify the team's camping space), but also by lambasting Niki in front of potential clients. With Marlee chomping at the bit to fire Dionne, saying she only does the bare minimum each task, and Star in Niki’s corner ("I was thrilled with Niki as PM," said Star), The Donald could have easily fired Dionne.

Do you think Niki acted like an airhead? Would you rather be known as a class act than someone who fights on behalf of charity? Class act be damned, I would have stayed and battled.


Read My Other Season 4 Recaps:

Lisa Rinna Thrown Under Bus

Meat Loaf Meltdown

Nene Leakes Rips LaToya Jackson a New One

Hairdo Horriblus Giving Fashion a Bad Name

Runways can't get enough of them and now celebrities are rapidly joining their ranks. Continuing the Amy Winehouse trend of hairdo horriblus, follicle follies are taking root across the pond and beyond.

Okay, my puns need work. But so do unpalatable updos, hair accessories with no business being seen in public, and styles that haven't seen the light of day since 1969.

Consider Victoria Beckham's latest roadkill pixie. The look is positively revolting and I don't mean that in a good way. No idealistic counter-movements here. More like get back to the drawing board and splurge on hair extensions. Halle Berry Posh is not.

Just thinking about the endless possibilities of more monkey see monkey do made my heart go pitter-pat. Imagine these hilarious reverberations.

Victoria Beckham

Paris Hilton

Sienna Miller

Whoopi Goldberg

Madonna

Donald Trump

Incredibly silly, right? No more than the real thing. These are not -- I repeat NOT -- the latest looks for Halloween.

Amy Winehouse

Alan Cumming

Abbey Clancy

Adele

Yvonne Hoelzel

On second thought, that last one would make a fabu Marie Antoinette.

Some Big Name Star Looks Mighty Skanky

Someone has a new look that practically leaps off the page.

Go ahead. Guess. Which big name star was recently seen out in public with blotchy skin, enlarged pores, pimply chin, matted forehead hair, and semi-cracked lips.

A thinned down Linda Ronstadt?

Hair dyed Cameron Diaz?

Recent DWTS reject Kim Kardashian?

How on earth Kardashian got booted off before paleolithic Cloris Leachman, I'll never know. That girl must be one gawd awful dancer. And after getting a taste of her acting, it's fairly safe to say she'll never be as big as her booty.

Okay, I know what you're thinking. Lay off picture lady whoever she is. She can't help having a bad face day. But I was pretty appalled when I saw this shot, mainly because Mrs. Michael Douglas didn't seem the least bit concerned about projecting a glamorous image.

In fact, Catherine Zeta-Jones looked mighty skanky at the 2008 Global Leadership Awards. She was busy chatting up honoree Ted Turner when Neilson Barnard snapped this photo. Incidentally, they also presented rapper Jay-Z with a global leadership award for his MTV documentary Water for Life, and his collaboration with the U.N. to ensure safe, accessible drinking water in Africa.

Other photos show Zeta-Jones sandwiched between the U.N.'s Ban Ki-Moon and an unidentified woman. Can't say I would blame hubby Michael if he decided to work the room. Did you see the size of those zits!

At least now we can understand why Zeta-Jones prefers the seclusion of Bermuda over Hollywood. Imagine what it must be like to need a major makeover whenever it's time to take out the trash.

The Hills Hoppers Take a Break from Reality

Ayi chihuahua, look who's being fabulous in the checkout lane for ordinary folks.

Heidi Montag and Spencer Pratt, The Hills couple who pop up literally everywhere, took a humanitarian break from reality TV to serve up nutritious....fast food. It's all part of World Hunger Relief Week, kicking off October 15th. Speidi manned Taco Bell's checkout window to help raise awareness of world hunger.

"Taco Bell approached us and asked us to help out," Pratt explained "We were honored to be included in the World Food Programme's fight against hunger and are excited to do whatever we can."

Yeah well, what ever happened to contributing a huge wad of bills and calling it a day? Imagine pulling into Taco Bell and having these two greet you at the checkout window. Those blindingly white chicklet teeth would make me think twice before stopping?

"Would you like to super size that chalupa, Ma'am?"

"Why not?"

"Great, that'll be ten ninety-nine."

"What, you mean it isn't free?"

"Heavens, no. Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Must have been the way you happily handed me two big bags of food I didn't order."

Oh, those two wild and crazy humanitarians. Just rolling up their sleeves and doing their part for mankind.

[Source]

60th Primetime Emmy New Category Awards

The 60th Annual Primetime Emmy Awards did a night of firsts at the the Nokia Theatre in Hollywood. A preliminary list of winners is here.

I love how they call the winners "outstanding" whatever in their category. Not "best" just "outstanding." That gave me an idea. Why not make up some "outstanding" categories from last night's broadcast and crown my own winners? Better than writing a diatribe. For better or worst (this is really a late post), here goes.

Outstanding Hot Outfit: There was low, low cut, chic, and chic sexy. There was Christine Applegate looking radiant and oo-lah-lah (I hope she does kick Christian Slater’s behind in their time slot). And then there was Julia Louis-Dreyfus. In a smoke’n hot apricot gown, Louis-Dreyfus emanated from the stage of a New York diner reminiscent of a Seinfeld episode, "The Contest." She later lost in her category to Tina Fey who graciously mentioned her as comic inspiration.

Outstanding Surprise of the Evening: I strongly disagree that the evening held few surprises why, it’s hard to narrow them all down. For instance, I had no idea Lorne Michaels actually wrote for Saturday Night Live. I thought he just lorded over cast members. Rob Reiner writing for The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour? I thought Meathead was his only TV credit. Who knew Tommy Smothers got high in 1967? Or that Martin Sheen would utter the least controversial political statement of the evening (everyone needs to vote)? And was that David Morse on stage with the winning cast of Mad Men? Didn’t he play some part in runaway winner John Adams? But to me, the biggest surprise of the evening was how Presenter Neil Patrick Harris and I thought exactly the same thing at almost exactly the same time. Howie Mandel’s yarblings and Steve Martin gushings were tremendous wastes of time, especially in light of presenters and winners being rushed off stage.

Outstanding "What’s YOUR problem?" Moment: This was a toss up. After accepting her award and making a nice short statement, Glenn Close had the gall to eat up more time babbling about some "Sisterhood of the Traveling Divas," ostensibly including the likes of her, Dame Judi Dench, and others (bet Dame Judi loved being included in that category). Still, the winner is Howie Mandel. After doing his St. Elsewhere rap, Howie asked specific members of the audience, "Why do you applaud?" The bit was barely funny. Degrading members of the audience for their polite reaction was downright rude.

Outstanding Presence of Mind During "Get the Hell Off the Stage" Music: Steve Colbert who won for best writer. As the music tried to shush him away, Colbert had the fortitude to thank Jon Stewart for humble beginnings and his wife and family for all their support.

Outstanding Production Gaffe: Mike flubbings for Vanessa Williams and America Ferrera and some nincompoop cut off Tom Hanks’ acceptance speech (don’t they know he is Hollywood royalty?). Perhaps winners Glynn Turman and Cynthia Nixon weren’t supposed to present three successive times. But, the home audience never saw the presenter for outstanding actor in a drama series (Keifer Southerland?) because production came back so late from commercial. Whoever is responsible for that idiotic move, you win.

Outstanding Presenter Who Couldn’t Get a Laugh if His Life Depended On It: No, it wasn’t Ricky Gervais trying to tickle his Emmy away from Steve Carell. Loved how Carell would not crack a smile. Tom Bergeron of Dancing With the Stars wins hands down. Hated that drama/comedy drop gag and the rest of his performance was as flat as toilet paper.

Outstanding "Wait Until I Get You Home" Look: Love the Rickles and love that he got two standing ovations. They tried to snuff out his line about the O.J. jury (all white front row) and "The Emmy goes to Herbie Dickman" line went right over my head. But the look on wife Barbara’s face when he said, "Today she sits in Malibu on the sand with the jewelry signaling ships," had me rolling. I imagine by now she’s used to the embarrassment.

Outstanding Cast in a Time Warp: They either have the best makeup artists, face lifts, and hair colorists in Hollywood or the fickle finger of fate has smiled on their saggy behinds. The five-member presenters of Laugh-In, especially Gary Owens, are amazingly well preserved. Jon Stewart leaning in for the French kiss win with Ruth Buzzy only to have her clobber him with that ratty brown handbag was one of the evening’s highlights.

Outstanding Cast in Time to Move On: Presenters Mary Tyler Moore and Betty White. If you’re going to do face lifts, you really should do them right. Are these grand dames of TV in their 80s? 70s? MTM’s face was so tight you could bounce a quarter off it. Don’t get me started on Betty White’s retirement colony pantsuit.

Outstanding Political Commentary: The award goes belatedly to Tommy Smothers. After accepting his long denied best writing award from 1968, Tommy had the best political lines of the night. "I can't stay silent when hearing peace is only attainable through war. Nothing is scarier than watching ignorance in action. I’m accepting the Emmy on behalf of other people who won't be silenced. Truth is what you get other people to believe." The audience laughed, but he wasn't joking.

Runners-Up: Laura Linny, lead actress in a miniseries or movie, saved time by thanking supporters privately and showed appreciation for "great community organizers who organize our country." Feigning disdain for political commentary, presenters Jon Stewart and Steven Colbert instead did a metaphor about prunes. Colbert said, "America needs a prune, granted shriveled and at times hard to swallow, but this dried up old prune has the experience we need," while Stewart countered, "After eight years, you would think America would have had enough." Kirk Ellis who won for best writing for miniseries John Adams had the grace to thank Tom Hanks and add "A period in our history when articulate men articulated complex thoughts in complete sentences. They used words ---" and yikes, got cut-off. Must have been a Republican in the tech booth.

Outstanding Imitations Making Gallagher Look Good: Josh Groban. Suicide was not painless as he sang theme songs from M*A*S*H to The Love Boat, to Mr. Rogers Neighborhood to the gospel style of The Jeffersons. Esther just Rolled over in her grave.

Outstanding Catch Phrase: Hard to pick just one. There was Barry Sonnenfeld who won best director for a comedy series, Pushing Daisies. "Love TV and fear the Internet." Tom Hanks acknowledged Presenter Sally Field as "Mom" and almost launched into a Forrest Gumpism. Guess he forgot about their roles in Punchline. Then there was Don Rickles, big winner after fifty-five years of no acknowledgments saying, "This crap got me no place." Paul Giamatti, best lead actor in a miniseries or movie, thanked "my fake wife, Laura." However, Tina Fey, big winner of the evening, also wins this category with the line, "Better to be a writer than an actor. At weddings, people are less interested in talking to you."

Outstanding Classy Remark: Even though they sat the cast of House way toward the back, Greg Utanes, best director of a drama series, thanked the Academy. And Presenter Sandra Oh acknowledged and waved hello to her parents. Winner? Seven times nominated first-time winner, Alec Baldwin, for outstanding lead actor in a comedy series. He was the first of many who was gracious enough to thank his co-nominees. Other winners followed his lead throughout the rest of the evening.

Outstanding Missed Opportunity: Presenter Bill Peterson, aside from wearing some questionable black number with velvet-looking lapels, let the biggest opportunity for a laugh slip right past his fingers. After accepting Tom Wilkinson’s award on his behalf, and hearing Conan O’Brien say he would hand an award accepted for someone else to Steve Carell, it would have been hysterical if Peterson had actually handed Wilkinson’s Emmy to Carell.

Outstanding Theory About Mad Men's Win: It was the only nominee in the drama category that had more than one word in its title.

Gone But Not Forgotten: George Carlin, Bernie Brillstein, Joey Bishop, William F. Buckley, Charlton Heston, Les Crane, Alice Ghostly, Ivan Dixon, Cyd Charisse, Mel Ferrer, Claudio Guzman, Barry Morse, Deborah Kerr, Larry Harmon, Estelle Getty, Roger King, Sydney Pollack, Ron Leavitt, Bernie Mac, Eric Lieber, Suzanne Pleshette, Abby Mann, Dick Martin, Delbert Mann, Harvey Korman, Jim McKay, Lois Nettleson, Mel Tolkin, Richard Widmark, Stan Winston, Tim Russert, and Isaac Hayes.

Outstanding Line of the Evening: Jeff Probst, first winner as outstanding lead for a reality program category. "G’night."

Gavin Rossdale Gives Little Kingston a Lift

Hey, hon, that ain't no milkshake!

Rockers Gwen Stefani and Gavin Rossdale are known throughout the globe as loving, affectionate, hands-on parents. Hats off to them for recognizing the wisdom of investing time in their children.

But strawberry creme Starbucks? Even if not blended with coffee, that can't be healthy for a tiny 2-year old body. Sugar and cream are its main ingredients.

Or dare I suggest little Kingston is sucking down a *GASP* strawberries and cream frappuccino disguised as strawberry creme? In that case, Gavin Rossdale is the most negligent, uncaring celebrity parent on the planet.

Does moi detect a brewing scandal?

Oh okay, I'm being ridiculous, but you have to admit a 2-year old sucking down Starbucks is not from the book of Dr. Spock, or for that matter T. Berry Brazelton. And what's with this kid getting carried around all the time? Does he have a phobia of his feet touching the ground or something?

I don't know, maybe it's me, but I'd like to see new big bro of the Rossdale-Stefani Clan get around on his own little flappers for a change. Sipping a V-8 or munching a ritz would be a much better image for Kingston Rossdale. And a whole lot healthier.

Keely Bares Icky, Madonna Tour Sticky, and Phelps Gets Wicky

Pierce Brosnan's wife, Keely Shaye Smith, gets tongues wagging by going boogie boarding in an itsy bitsy teeny weeny very mismatched blue bikini.

Director Christopher Nolan's first choice to play Catwoman in his next Batman movie may already come with a lifetime supply of whips and masks. Rumor has it that Cher is in negotiations to join the tentatively titled "Caped Crusader" film which begins shooting in Vancouver early next year.

France's new First Lady may be with child. Speculation is running rampant after paparazzi photographed President Nicolas Sarkozy affectionately patting Carla Bruni's rounded tummy during a seaside vacation.

Celebrate the Sweet 16 of Miley Cyrus at Disneyland this October. Be the first of 5,000 outrageously ga-ga fans to splurge $250 a ticket, and you too can party like a teenage rock star. Tickets go on sale August 30th at 9 a.m.

Sticky and sweet doesn't do justice to these photographs from Madonna's new world tour. The 50-year old pop sensation still has the moves of a woman half her age. Go Madge!

Could Jennifer Love Hewitt be getting cold feet? After shedding 18 pounds, the Ghost Whisperer star postponed her wedding to Sottish fiance Ross McCall, claiming different shooting schedules caused a strain on their relationship.

A hospital reportedly run by Celebrity Rehab star Dr. Drew Pinsky is under investigation. Within the past five months, three patients have died under mysterious conditions at the Pasadena facility.

To kick off Rock The Vote's voter registration drive, singer Sheryl Crow will give away digital copies of her new album Detours to the first 50,000 people who register three friends to vote. People who log on to the Rock the Vote website or join the group mailing list can also get a free download of her new song, Gasoline.

Before the Olympics wrapped, there was Olympic freestyle. Or maybe it was doggie style. No joke. Read all the sordid details direct from an Olympic insider.

Sure, everyone wanted to see photographs of Fred Phelps, estranged father of Olympic superstar Michael Phelps. But now comes word that Michael bought a multi-million dollar Baltimore condominium, snagged a book deal, AND is snogging fellow Olympian, the "racy Aussie dolphin" Stephanie Rice. Bet Fred must be kicking himself about now.

Loudmouth Roseanne Thinks Jon Voight Endorsement Controls Outcome of Election

Roseanne Barr was once so famous she didn't need a last name.

The once rotund TV star made her way into all the best restaurants, exclusive night clubs, luxury hotel suites, and fabulous parties just by mentioning her highly rated sitcom, Roseanne. The comedienne formerly known as "Domestic Goddess" had no need to be concerned with other "Rosies" of that era.

Roseanna Arquette, a similarly sounding supernova, had a popular song named after her and an extra "a" thrown in for good measure (not that Big Bertha and the comely Arquette shared anything remotely in common). The next possible contender was a hilarious figment of Gilda Radner's imagination, leaving a wide open field for anyone wanting to grab the moniker as their own.

And grab she did, longingly, loudly, greedily, and above all obnoxiously. Practically everyone knew the women's name whenever conspicuous consumption of food preceded emissions of a slightly nasal twang.

I'd be hard pressed to think of other famous Roseannes, but you're welcome to try. Bear in mind that Rosie O'Donnell didn't land her breakout role in A League of Their Own until 1992, while Roseanne peaked at number one by 1989.

Lucy, Elvis, Twiggy, Donovan, Cher, Liberace, Oprah, Madonna, Dolly, Iman, these were the one-word name chic pioneers of the day. Paving the way for upstarts like Roseanne to one day assume the mantel. Lord knows throughout the years she's given everyone their money's worth. Starting with the raunchy stand-up routine leading to a nationally syndicated TV show and one-way ticket out of white trash hell, Roseanne has been huge, both figuratively and literally.

At a time when Hollywood had little use for women the size of Shelley Winters, her massive girth set mouths agape. Hardly anyone thought Hollywood would embrace such a morbidly obese loudmouth. Yet time and time again, Roseanne proved them wrong. By playing wife and mother to a mid-western family as that family would likely exist in the late 1980s, Rosie and co-star John Goodman shattered long-held beliefs of the modern American family, swiftly consigning images of the perfect family from earlier shows like Leave It to Beaver and Father Knows Best to a bygone time.

But Roseanne paid a price for all that candor. Part of her charm was telling it like it is, not the way network executives wanted to whitewash it. Tempers flared, writers quit, and eventually the show was cancelled, perhaps a year or two before its time. But none too soon for network hoohas who couldn't wait for the 800 pound gorilla in the room to leave the building.

Since then, for the most part, Roseanne's career has veered steadily downhill, resting at almost a complete standstill. Her personal life didn't fare much better. After divorcing first husband Bill Pentland and bringing newcomer Tom Arnold into the fold, she embarked upon a series of disgustingly inappropriate talk show appearances, sometimes with Arnold in tow, sometimes not, but always going too far in the "Ewwwwww, I can't believe she just said/did that" department. The marriage flopped after four years. She then married Ben Thomas, her security guard, but that marriage lasted only seven.

Perhaps one of Roseanne's more notorious faux pas was making an idiotic spectacle of herself at a San Diego Padres game opener.

You can't see it in this video, but she clutches her own crotch, makes an offensive gesture, and spits on the ground at the end. Again, hordes of people couldn't wait to see her exit stage left.

This brief history of the mammoth one -- who by the way underwent gastric bypass surgery and finally slimmed down to a very palatable size 10 -- is due to recent reactions against the inexplicable political tirade posted on her personal blog. Many again sit with mouths agape reading her scathing attack against actors Jon Voight, Glen Beck, Brangelina and six innocent children.

Believe it or not, I sort of understand where she's coming from. Roseanne is frustrated For days, the pundits have been making the presidential election about poll numbers rather than policy. Depending upon the polling institution, McCain is pulling ahead of Obama in some scattered areas throughout the country. News like that has got to make a person like Roseanne flip-out. Pitiful shame too because poll results are notoriously unreliable.

The way I see it, her infamous blog entry will forever confirm Roseanne's permanent place in la-la land. Then again, I can't say I blame her. She only did what millions of bloggers across the globe do each morning in the hope of reaching a mass audience. Granted, as a famous one word name former TV star, she has somewhat of a head start. Roseanne is not much different than the rest of us armchair pundits, kicking out thought provoking rants and hoping for link love.

'The neocons who own jon voight and make him dance on the chabad telethons are the worst most elitist people on earth. glen beck and jon voight are their bit**es... both of them are used tampons who must be flushed down the toilet immediately!' she rants like a foaming lunatic.
...

Addressing Brangelina on the fly, she adds, '...McCain wants to continue with the idea of war for profit...the americans are over that thinking now! They have drugged our troops and lower classes into supporting their oil business atrocities for long enough. We want to save not lose our souls thank you. Now go back to making your movies about women who love to handle big guns that shoot hundreds of people to death. Ps....it might be good for your asian and african children's self esteem to know you support a brown man for the leader of the free world.)'

Jon Voight must be rubber and Roseanne glue. From what I can glean, she's the only one suffering any humiliation from her brief foray into insanity.

I don't like the way she browbeats Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, using their multi-cultural family as bait, but then it doesn't surprise me. If I recall correctly, Roseanne was one of the first people in Hollywood to ridicule cross-race adoptions. Probably around the time Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman adopted their son, Roseanne made a crude remark about the adoption of "black babies" as status symbol.

To his credit, Voight issued a tame public rebuttal. Now if we all sit very quietly holding our collective breath, the former domestic goddess may just slither away and reoccupy her place away from the limelight for another ten years.

[Source]

Brooke Hogan Sets Women's Movement Back One Hundred Years

Brooke Hogan has a lot to answer for these days. Either producers forced her to say something mind-numbingly stupid to spark better ratings, or this clown is the most bubble-headed semi-celebrity roaming the planet.

Of course I feel sorry for the girl, what with her brother being in jail and her parents' rancorous marriage caput, but for the love of all things mom and apple pie, does she have to single-handedly set the Women's Rights Movement back one hundred years?

I mean, look at her own blog.

Brooke Hogan Doesn't Vote @ Yahoo! Video

If Blondy wants to concentrate on more important things in her life, like shopping for Prada and getting a manicure rather than investigating platforms of our presidential candidates, that's perfectly fine with me. Women like Hogan should remain barefoot and pregnant, letting other people make decisions for them because, like she said, such women aren't be capable of making intelligent decisions for themselves.

Obviously, Hogan doesn't get out very much and must have a very low opinion of herself.

Jennifer Aniston Stars in Dee Plump-Up

Vat to do ven da hol' vorld votches vit bated breath?

As da fling vit John Mayer vas ending, dis vas dee question plaguing "unlucky een love" Jennifer Aniston.


Solution?

"Ve are goinck to plump... (clap) ...YOU UP!"

Just days before Aniston's publicist announced the end of her summer fling with John Mayer, Star Magazine snapped a puffy cupids bow peppering her pout. Preparation for the inevitable crush of media, no doubt. What better way to compensate for looks of pity and mocking text messages than with an eye-shocking fakeover?

Makeover? Pshaw! So yesterday. Only pure unadulterated collagen injections will do for the heart-broken pouts of Hollywood.

Saving face must be Aniston's primary concern in the ensuing media frenzy. Circling the wagons, confidant spinmeisters set the record straight over who did the dumping.

It was 'Jen who decided to move on,' says an unreported source. 'She is very fond of John and has thought he might be the one. She finds him funny, sexy and very talented. ... Plus he understands all the aspects of living in a fishbowl. But in the final analysis, she just got tired of his roving eye.'

Whew. That takes a load off my mind. So glad the infidelity precipitating her decision wasn't Mayer's way of taking the easy way out.

But, hey, bursting Aniston's healing bubble wouldn't be cool. Not while she's so obviously tender and vulnerable. Taking solace in being the dumper rather than the dumpee is a far better way of coping than going under the knife.

Why bother when so much of her is already plastic?

[Source]

Barack Obama Embraces British Soul Singer Joss Stone

Joss Stone with music producer Raphael Saadiq

Joss Stone holding what appears to be an illegal substance


Oh no, tell me it isn't so.

The Sun reports presidential candidate Barack Obama personally recruited British soul singer Joss Stone to write and record his campaign theme because he likes the way she appeals to both blacks and whites.

Are Obama's campaign advisers on vacation for the summer? Do any of them care about the moral character of people associated with the presumptive Democratic nominee's campaign?

[Source]

Taking John Waters to Task for Backlash Against Honfest

Once a year, the Hons take center stage here in Baltimore. Hampden, to be precise, home of the Miracle on 34th Street," is also Hon capital of the world. Hon ground zero, if you will. The annual Honfest hit the ground running this past weekend and attendant fireworks didn't disappoint.

But before we get to the persnickety controversy, let's get one thing straight. The celebration of Hons is a time honored tradition in these quirky parts, a dubious distinction Baltimoreans proudly wear on their sleeves.

This Baltimoron is no expert on Hons, having grown up in the vicinity of the now mammoth Sinai Hospital complex and world famous Pimlico Racetrack, later becoming a faceless mass in the white flight to suburbia, but I do know a thing or two about visceral affiliation with hometown identity. Los Angeles is inextricably linked with all things Hollywood, Wisconsin with cheese, San Francisco with streetcars and the Golden Gate Bridge, Detroit with Motown, Washington D.C. with the business of politics, and Baltimore with hons and crabs.

Is that a faux pas? I'm just speaking from the heart, hon.

No, seriously now, the distinctive accent, fixation with spirited birds, crab a la everything, Nipper the phonograph dog, Natty Boh, marble steps, Bromo Seltzer Tower, Preakness, and Honfest distinguish Baltimore from its more tony neighbor down I-95, although as far as the cartographers are concerned we might as well be one and the same. Ever notice how Washington, D.C. is prominently featured on every map and Atlas but Baltimore barely cuts the grade? Do you have any idea what it's like to live in a town with a combined population approaching two million (Baltimore City and Baltimore County are governed by different municipalities but are essentially the same area) and forever be lumped into the same locale as a place that couldn't be more different if its survival depended on it?

Yes, I'm talking about D.C. Twin cities we are not. Siamese twin polar opposites is more like it.

Just like the Preakness and pro sports teams named after birds, Honfest is uniquely Baltimore. The history of Hons, so I'm told, began with the hard-working woman of World War II. When the GIs returned, these enterprising young ladies continued to work. Hey, Baltimore is not a town of Ritz. I imagine back then money was just as tight as it is now. These second incomes helped support an upwardly mobile but modest lifestyle during the boomer age. You can't fault women for wanting better lives for their families.

As the story goes, women didn't work in executive positions, they took hard scrabble jobs. So on weekends, they liked to get dolled up and party. And Baltimore being the kitschy town that it was (and is), dolled up meant tight outfits, massive jewelry, appalling makeup, and hair piled high to the sky. Think New Jersey south of the Mason-Dixon. Beehive hairdos were all the rage and nobody wore them better than east side Baltimore. The higher, bigger, shinier, and stiffer, the better. Believe me when I say John Waters didn't have to think long and hard when he thought up the title to Hairspray.

More about dear John later.

Anyway, these dolled up, tight laced, beehive wearing, red lipped, smoking ladies eventually became known as Hons. It must have something to do with the way Baltimoreans talk because I remember being called Hon quite a bit on the streets in and around the racetrack. Even now when I venture to the Inner Harbor some gum cracking waitress will shout out a Hon or two. A term of endearment really, just an abbreviated "honey" with the glory of Baltimore "OH" lovingly wrapped inside.

Ever been to a sporting event with Baltimoreans and notice how they scream in unison "OH" when they get to the "Oh say can you see" part of the Star Spangled Banner? It's all connected I'm telling you, in an Oriole birds and "dem O's" quirky kind of way.

When Baltimore's Hampden neighborhood decided to reinvent itself as the suburbs of City rather than a dingy mill section of town, Mom and Pop businesses moved in like crazy. Today, a stroll down The Avenue is like walking around New York's TriBeCa, there are so many unusual shops and restaurants to see. Not to mention a liberal dose of second-hand store gold mines. Hampden is one of a kind because it's uniquely Baltimore, much like Fells Point but without the water.

Some time ago, CafeHon -- the jewel of Hampden -- began a one day neighborhood gathering to celebrate Baltimore fashion and culture, affectionately christened Honfest for those who dare to be kitsch. The annual event has since morphed into a two-day festival with an anything goes mentality, many abandoning all form of reason in their quest to become Hon chic. These people have their hair done in beehives, wear obnoxiously loud clothing and stilettos, don so much makeup they look like Kelly Osborne on Halloween, and enter Hon competitions for the chance to be crowned "Miss Baltimore Hon."

I know. I know. It sounds like an Iowa corn festival and maybe in some respects it is. Baltimore is a big city comprised of little neighborhoods. There really is a hometown feel, an indescribable slice of life you can't get anywhere else on this planet. Honfest has the potential to transform into a monumental party on the same scale as today's Mardi Gras (but definitely NOT Mardi Gras before Katrina -- that would be stretching the build up too far).

Okay. I've done my best to describe Hons and Honfest. Now we get to dear John. Don't get me wrong, I'm a big fan, a huge fan of John Waters, his brand of entertainment, and his take on life. If it weren't for Waters, Edith Massey would never have become "The Egg Lady," there'd be no such thing as front lawns decorated with pink flamingos, and Divine would have been just another drunken whore stripping for tips down on The Block. Waters savored these seedier spawns of Baltimore and in doing so made them mainstream. The magnitude of his success is a little shocking considering his film making origins. I mean honestly, back in the 1960s, he was the probably the first person to film a transsexual devouring dog crap. Steaming dog crap. With a hint of lemon.

As a native Baltimoron who wears her Honness as a badge of honor, I have no qualms taking Waters to task for his recent statements against Honfest. For the record, he lambasted the celebration saying the Hon image was so overused he would no longer utter the word or use the idea in any of his scripts. Not only that, he urged the City of Baltimore to stop supporting the event, claiming people who now participate do so to denigrate Hons.

Yup. The native son and one who paved the road for unbridled madness now turns his back on the monster of Honfest, professing lack of authenticity mars the luster. Reminds me of Dr. Frankenstein and monster remorse, although in that story the monster tried to kill anything in its path and wreak mayhem.

In contrast, Honfest is a harmless lovable fuzzball, a chance to bond with homegrowns giving Baltimore a distinct flavor separate and apart from that political metropolis down I-95. The fact that the idea caught fire with so many out of towners is all the more reason to revel in all things Hon, don't you think? Waters really missed the mark and that's a low down dirty rotten shame.

Seriously, hon, we're talking two days. Two days of blissful merriment and bustling business for tiny Hampden. Waz all de fuss har?

Cannes It, Film Festival Judge Sean Penn

The Cannes Film Festival is in full bloom with overachieving Pandas, starlets clad in attractive summer wear, and loud mouth extraordinaire, actor Sean Penn. There he is on the red carpet for the premiere of opening night film, Blindness, along with a distinguished panel of fellow judges, including the luminous Natalie Portman.

Too bad she and Penn hijacked what should have been a breezy promotion for the film industry, unleashing a Bush bashing, Democratic presidential nominee thrashing, roll your eyes tongue lashing on a topic best left to smoke-filled Hollywood parties. Does Penn honestly believe the current political climate will decide which film walks away with top honors?

Yes, according to an editor at the daily Telegraph who interviewed the actor at length.

Penn said it was impossible to separate film from politics, and promised that the winning film would be a reflection of the current climate.

'One way or another, when we select the Palme d'Or winner, I think we are going to feel very confident that the film-maker who made the film is very aware of the times in which he or she lives.'

This from a man who endorsed dark horse Dennis Kucinich for president. Must be their symbiotic penchant for all things wacky. Penn unleashes tirades against Brad Pitt during movie shoots and Kucinich gives first hand accounts of extraterrestrial encounters.

According to JustJared's account of the event, Penn had choice words for the Dubya administration, essentially charging the President with war crimes.

When somebody operates without a brain and without a heart they kill hundreds of thousands of people throughout the world. It is a shame that we have to bastardize the word 'politics.'

Oh puh-leeze. The only one operating without a brain is Mr. Penn. You can't go around vilifying the President for a war approved and ratified by Congress, even if the purported justification was in fact botched intelligence. Especially not when one is an ambassador of some sorts abroad. This kind of nonsense emboldens enemies, fueling battles the majority of Americans would rather put to rest.

Apparently, the left-handed jab at our elected leader wasn't enough because Penn then unleashed his vitriol on likely Democratic presidential nominee, Barack Obama.

'I don't have a candidate I'm supporting and I'm certainly interested and excited by the hope that Barack Obama is inspiring,' he said, but went on to accuse him of a 'phenomenally inhuman and unconstitutional' voting record.

'I hope that he will understand, if he is the nominee, the degree of disillusionment that will happen if he doesn't become a greater man than he will ever be,' Penn said. 'This is the most important election, certainly in my lifetime, and maybe ever.'

A greater man than HE will ever be?? Was Penn referring to himself? Because honestly, no one will ever become a greater man than that same person will ever be.

As for the candidate's voting record, there is nothing phenomenally inhuman or unconstitutional about it. In fact, it's verbatim the same voting record of Hillary Clinton, save an absence here or there, but you don't hear Penn ragging on her.

The comment itself is inane and idiotic, not to mention a mother load to throw on the shoulders of the first credible African-American candidate for president. A nomination for Barack Obama would be historic, lending an air of credibility to Penn's statement that 2008 is the most important election in his lifetime and perhaps ever.

If elected, however, Barack Obama will serve just like all other prior presidents. With the hope and desire to make this nation strong and secure and to provide a comfortable existence for all of its citizens. We're not talking about a black messiah here, just someone who wants to make his mark in American history.

Although not endorsing any particular candidate, I love how Portman weighs in with more fluffer-nutter trivializing the political process.

[F]or the first time in a while we have to chose between who we like better instead of who we hate less.

Is this supposed to be inspiring? Because from where I sit there's a lot of people who don't particularly like any of the candidates. They're casting ballots for the one they fear less. Doesn't say a whole helluva lot for our political process.

But then again, neither does this lunacy at Cannes.

[Source]

John Galliano 2008 Fall Collection

Yes, I am more than two months late on this one. Sue me. Everywhere I go, there they are. Gaunt hollow eyes rimmed in circus colors, gangly limbs strewn about, hideous over-sized hats dwarfing clown-like faces, throwback garb reminiscent of medieval times.

I never claimed to be chic and no, I don't get the idiocy of these outfits from Christian LaCroix in the John Galliano 2008 Fall Collection. I mean, hells bells, who goes around looking like they just had an alien turd dropped on their head? Whatever this poor thing is sporting on her noggin, it looks like a big dog with serious anal issues jumped her bones and took a dump.



Super-size-me wool monstrosities have no place in a fashion show. I half expect the models to remove these hats for the homeless and find an Amy Winehouse-like do underneath. Wow. It's gotta be hot under there. I hope the models either shaved their heads or are card carrying members of Hair Club for Women.


And just for the record, the "knave look" went out of style with jousting and knights in shining armour. This is either the ugliest woman I have ever seen modeling a designer collection, or a small-breasted, round-stomached young man with a huge honker. Either way, I'm transfixed on the remarkable homeliness of the model, not the clothes, although this outfit is so over-the-top pitiful, I couldn't help but get loopy over the Maid Marion motif.



Big name stars like some Olsen twin, Lucy Lui, and Rihanna dropped by, which I suppose gave the show an air of credibility, but if you ask me, the whole lot of them look like refugees from the set of Circque du Soliel in King Arthur's Court.

Keeley Hazell Goes Nuts

Because if beautiful, bountiful, intelligent British women can make megabucks stripping down to their underwear, I can tell the world what I think about them.

[Uncensored Raunchy Spread]

Ashton Kutcher Dishes Dumb at "What Happens in Vegas" World Premiere

Ashton Kutcher must have been a daredevil dolt in his youth. Carmen Diaz, still dealing with the unexpected death of her dad, couldn't make the London world premiere of their light-hearted romp, What Happens in Vegas, leaving Kutcher to wing the red carpet alone.

Kind of feel sorry for the poor sap, spilling intimate personal details of his boneheaded antics under the influence. Guess he was absent from movie star school on the day they taught how to skirt embarrassing questions by scratching one's head and smiling amiably into the camera. Feast your eyes on this interview.

I can't be the only one who thinks Kutcher had a death wish at some point in his life. Mommy Demi should have been in tow for an emergency elbow nudging, although who knows whether that would have stopped him from spouting like a schoolgirl. Must be off spreading pregnancy rumors again. Oh, those two crazy kids.

Maybe we’re all being punk'd. Passed out on a frozen river and survived? Wonder if frostbite nipped Kutcher's unmentionables. Now that might explain a thing or two about those pregnancy rumors.

Judging from tepid fan reaction in the video, Lake Bell's scarlet pom-pom sleeved number made a poor substitute for Diaz. Does anyone else regard Bell as the poor man’s Amanda Peet? They both have that strong sexy nose thing going on, wide mouths, flashing eyes, but Peet seems infinitely more reserved.

Not reading between the lines on this one -- Kutcher and Peet had no chemistry whatsoever in their box office bomb, A Lot Like Love. Maybe Bell got the part in his Vegas film because he's drawn to dark sultry and was going for more wild with his nasty.

Although judging from the latest movie trailer, if Kutcher wants more wild, he should stick to drunken jumps from second story windows.

Paris and Nicole Frenemy Feud Signals Lapses in Tabloid Journalism

First they were BFFs. Then they were mortal enemies. Next it was kiss kiss, make up. Then they seemed to be somewhat more tolerant of one another. But then one of them upped the ante by donating a gift to charity. And later it got plain ugly.

And now? Let's just say that one of them is starting to sound like a petulant 6-year old.

"She's copying me! She's copying me! If she gets pregnant with my boyfriend's twin brother, I'm going to go blooey!"

Oh my Lord, make it stop.

I know as well as anyone this story has very little to do with celebrity politics. It's pretty much a rehash of the same garbage you can find on all the other celebrity gossip sites. But, I cannot look away, I mean, come on, these two are grown-ups -- one of them already raising a child -- and their emotional development is so superficial and stagnant, it makes me want to pray for the next generation of celebrity train wrecks.

Stories like this sell magazines and online advertising better than anything I could ever splice together. I don't fault celebrity tabloids for making fluff like this headline news. My big complaint is about week after week story lines focusing on nothing else. How many times is Britney Spears going to be on the cover of OK! magazine? It's become sort of a running joke in my house every time the free subscription arrives.

"Guess who's on the cover of OK!? Okay, you guessed it." Next.

If tabloid journalists would do a better job of digging the dirt rather than constantly focusing on the bottom line, perhaps I'd be reading some real news in those glossies. No wonder their colleagues think of them as the Danny Bonaduces of journalism.

Get investigative. Plant some restaurant spies around Hollywood and Manhattan. Give me something juicy I can really dig my teeth into. For heavens sake, throw this Baltimore gal a meaty bone.

Perhaps it's because I only began spending my life on the Internet last summer that I missed the big news story about the Paris Hilton cell phone hack. Don't follow this link if you're easily offended by nudity and inappropriate language. Apparently, someone hacked into or figured out the easy password to Paris Hilton's cell phone, providing access to actual celebrity phone numbers, email accounts, and naughtily positioned photographs. The FBI began an investigation and then...well...because the tabloids lost interest, or more likely never bothered with the story in the first place, who knows?

I found this item while searching for information about a different celebrity news story. It no longer links to The Drudge Report which is a real shame given its news worthiness.

Marc Jacobs Photo Shoot a Posh Mosh Collection

The truth is I'm pretty peeved at myself for spending so much time away. Trying to line up jobs, get exposure, run a household, and be a person... the juggling act is starting to take its toll. Oh, it'll all work out in the end, I'm sure. But in the meantime, The Spewker is definitely taking it on the chin.

To make it up to all our loyal fans -- all five of you -- I'm skewering Victoria Beckham a/k/a/ Posh Spice and her Marc Jacobs photo shoot. The photographs are such a riot, I can't help reprinting them here. But in case I get asked to take them down, you can still laugh at the originals here.


Sara McCorquodale, writing for DailyMail, hones in on this thumbsucker fetal position monstrosity, calling it a way for Posh to evade her status as a fashion icon.

If you ask me, Posh looks like a maid with rubber cleaning gloves who can't decide whether she's going to do a Maypole dance or go to town on her fingers. The streamers flowing from her backside make her look like she's sprouted a tail. You know, if someone would turn this photo to the left 90 degrees, she'd look like a thumbsucker on an invisible pogo stick. Ugh. Yuck. Make it go away.

This frog whisperer photo isn't much better...

Is she trying to seduce the frog, suck it like her thumb, or position her mouth just so hoping it will leap inside? The gloves look thick and oversized, like vintage clothing from the bottom of your mother's hope chest to wear on Halloween. And what's with the hair? Sweat much? It's positively slick, shiny and hanging in clumpy wisps. Couldn't they stop the shoot for a quick shampoo and a blowdry?

Finally, this last composite, I'm not quite sure what to make of it.



I've never seen Posh look quite so Oriental. Is it that black beanie-looking thing over her forehead or the way she's holding the tote like a ninja warrier weapon? Every tense muscle and bulging bicep says this is not a woman to tangle with in a dark alley. Those pink rings around her neck and sleeves -- are they part of some gauzey see-through shirt? Why even bother with a shirt like this? I can see everything nature gave the lady and stuff it didn't. Mashed up implants ready to snap a bra strap or two.

Don't these designers believe in leaving anything to the imagination?