Why?  I don’t know why the Heroes actress would do such a thing but this is a good way to get the blood pumping early this morning.  She goes from wet to dry in this reverse video portrait of her taken by photographer Tyler Shields. [via]

Recent photographs taken at an event in Las Vegas reveal a surprisingly light pigmentation on the former Chicago Cubs slugger.  Jesus, tell that dude to get on the roids again or something.

The Chicago Tribune spoke with Rebecca Polihronis, an acquaintance of Sosa, who claims that that “he is going through a rejuvenation process for his skin.”

Riiiiight.  Whatever’s going on, it’s clear he’s got the same disease as Michael Jackson.  And I don’t mean the touching little children one.

Thanks internets! From last week’s “Top Chef” where Padma Lakshmi and guest judge Natalie Portman drop their fair share of fellatio double entendres in 40-seconds. [via]

Which is to say, the dude is broke.

“In a lawsuit filed Oct. 16 in Los Angeles, the National Treasure star, 45, claims that his longtime business manager, Samuel J. Levin, ‘lined his [own] pockets with several million dollars in business management fees while sending Cage down a path toward financial ruin.’”

Hold onto your seats because I have a feeling we’re going to experience a Nic Cage shit show the likes the world has never seen before.

Crazy, just crazy.  I mean the wig, not Agassi on meth.  Which, I suppose is just as crazy.  But man I loved that dude’s hair.  It was so zeitgeisty.  So indicative of his “rebel” image.

“I asked myself: you want to wear a toupee? On the tennis court? I answered myself; what else could I do?” But the wig began to disintegrate as he took a shower the night before the Paris final — “probably I used the wrong hair rinse,” Agassi writes. He panicked and called his brother Philly into the room. Together, they managed to clamp the wig together using clips and pins.

Agassi, 39, writes: “Of course I could have played without my hairpiece, but what would all the journalists have written if they knew that all the time I was really wearing a wig? During the warming-up training before play I prayed. Not for victory, but that my hairpiece would not fall off. With each leap, I imagine it falling into the sand. I imagine millions of spectators move closer to their TV sets, their eyes widening and, in dozens of dialects and languages, ask how Andre Agassi’s hair has fallen from his head.”

“We thought Tom [Cruise] was the biggest bore on the face of the Earth,” Pinchot said in the interview.  “He was tense and made constant, constant unrelated homophobic comments, like, “You want some ice cream, in case there are no gay people there?” I mean, his lingo was larded with the most… There was no basis for it. It was like, “It’s a nice day, I’m glad there are no gay people standing here.” Very, very strange.” 

Which, I feel like, everyone pretty much suspected anyways about Mr. Cruise.  Still, he had his publicist fire back, with nothing more than “obviously this is so far removed from who Tom Cruise is as a person, this must have been said in jest.”  It’s like Tom Cruise isn’t even trying anymore.  Very dissapointing. 

Still, if all this leads to a Bronson Pinchot renaissance, then I’m all for it.

Last week, Lamar Odom and Khloe Kardashian laid off my best friends. They were model employees of Comcast/E! Entertainment and now because Keeping Up With the Kardashians decided it was of the utmost artistic integrity to stage a television “wedding” some of the best people I know are looking for work.

The price for the lavish “wedding” was rumored to be a cool one million dollars — chump change to Odom who just signed a $33 million contract with the Lakers. Pocket cash for Bruce Jenner, a motivational speaker and hero of the 1976 Olympics. A sliver of Khloe’s inheritance money, better known as the Orenthal James Simpson defense fund.

You get the point. These were wealthy people and still they twisted E! Entertainment’s arm, probably not too hard, to pay for the wedding.

The company made a conscious decision to hold a fake non-binding (maybe it was real, I don’t know) wedding and then coincidently hold layoffs a few days afterwards. A total of 36 people were let go just after that magical ceremony. I’m not sure if there was a direct correlation, but I’m assuming all of their yearly incomes add up to just about a million dollars. At the very least a few jobs could have been saved by passing on the charade.

What kind of company can make such a cavalier decision?  

It’s indicative of the times we live in that a business is more concerned with showering rich people with money rather than keep 36 hard-working people employed.

Paparazzi pictures and photos from a helicopter made the ceremony look legit. And sure everyone involved is saying the right things, but honestly the couple met a month ago.

It was a star studded event, which you can watch in November, d’uh. Seacrest made the mandatory company appearance and quickly Seacrested out. Lamar’s teammates were there like Kobe and lunatic Ron Artest (just signed by the Lakers in the off-season); the girls all wore matching Laker purple gowns.

How terribly cute and clever.

And so you may care about the celebrities and the wedding by proxy, because you’re forced to, because this type of show is shoved down your throat and you have no choice but to pay attention. However, let me tell you about the people who should be in your thoughts. The people who have had their lives change due to a cultural atmosphere with no integrity.

The folks let go weren’t the typical friends you find in LA. They should have been treasured as diamonds in a sea of cubic zirconium. A few of the real people this town has to offer.

“Jo” [named changed, protect the innocent and all that] was an amazing person to have around the office. If not for her I wouldn’t have met the woman I love. That’s pretty hard to beat, but she’s also my Madame Cleo. She’s always been there to listen to me and cheer me up and occasionally predict my future.

Being a big baseball guy, I compared her to Kevin Millar of the 2004 Red Sox. Not because she chews tobacco and grabs her crotch but because she’ a great club house gal. She doesn’t have to get a hit to make us all better. Every championship team needs that special someone who is good in the dugout, making everyone feel better, developing hand shakes or hitting you in the face with shaving cream when you knock in the winning run. Jo was our Kevin Millar.

She knows endlessly more about me than I do of her. That’s how she wants it to be. She’s the greatest listener I’ve ever known. Her advice is impeccable. My life and work is better for having met Jo. She’s the closest thing I have to a sister in this town and that’s saying a lot. No disrespect to my actual sister.

In laying off Jo, E! chose to can the only person in the department with a child. There is no consideration, no thought, no compassion, no sympathy. You think Lamar and Khloe will ever have to worry about taking care of their child?

So you could watch two D-list imbeciles pretend to have the greatest day of their lives and blow a million dollars of corporate money, Jo now has to find a way to feed her three-year-old little girl, make rent payments, figure out how to cloth her, and give her a normal life.

The other two friends were no less special. Two hard working guys who truly aspire to change this crazy city we live in; yet they were expendable if it means producing more of the same fake reality. But I’ll spare you.
When are we in Los Angeles going to see that we perpetuate this type of social retardation? We infect America with a virus eating away at that part of the brain that separates Meryl Streep from Tila Tequila.

We direct this type of entertainment at Middle America because we believe that’s what they desire. We think they want something stupid, mindless, the lowest common denominator of entertainment, so that’s what we feed them. Hollywood, I’ve lived in “Middle America” and the garbage you spoon feed them is not what they want but it’s all they have to eat. You’re throwing darts in the dark, making entertainment and programming choices based on false assumptions about an amorphous region of the country and honest-to-god real people’s lives are at stake.

I implore you to take chances. Go out on a limb. Remember they only love it because you tell them they do. Therefore, they’ll love it all. You have the opportunity to alter lives in a positive way.

I hate knowing I contribute to the dumbification of America. We make celebrities out of talentless whores (both genders). Its killing me and suffocating this land. Can we give them more? Can we challenge ourselves to take chances on programming that matters? Can we stop perpetuating the pathetic death of culture?

It’s the same formula over and over, young easy girls and aging rock stars. What’s David Lee Roth up too? You just paused and thought that would be a good show didn’t you? Can we regurgitate another washed up actor? Are there anymore Baldwins out there? It’s enough to make you want to smash your television or at least cancel the 500 cable channels with nothing on.

This is my resignation from the lobotomization of America.

And just in case you think it might not be the real Tracy Morgan, but rather his publicist or some kid he hired off the street, he just tweeted this: “my dickhead is shaped liked a darth vadar helmet. my dick is so fat it looks like r2d2.”

This news is icky whether you believe her (somehow I do) or you don’t – since it means she’s inventing an incetuous releationship to sell books.  Such is the nature of modern American celebrity where it’s difficult to believe anything.  This is the type of secret that seems like it should stay between a person and their therapist.  It’s hard to determine if revealing this is foolish or courageous.  Regardless, it doesn’t really make me want to read her new book anymore than I didn’t already.

Only this time the only thing dying is my infatuation with Zooey Deschanel now that she is officially married to Death Cab’s Ben Gibbard. 

Chris Walla sorta gave it away on Twitter yesterday.

Despite almost crying and apologizing on Jay Leno’s new show last night, Kanye has still become the hottest internet meme in some time, with pictures cropping up everywhere of him interupting people with his now infamous slogan, “Imma let you finish.” 

Also?  Too soon for the Patrick Swayze one.  At least give it a few days.

And they’re attractive women too!, or so claims Sean MacCauley for The Daily Beast.  Anyway.  I’ll save you the time from his annoying look at Malcolm Gladwell the seductor, and let you know that Gladwell gets laid many, many times in all likelihood because he’s a multi-millionaire best-selling author despite looking like Sideshow Bob. 

It probably helps that he’s smart, funny, polite, etc. 

Still, I’m sure there’s plenty of people who want to sleep with him just because.  Myself included?  No, but I had to think about it for a second.  He is Malcolm Gladwell afterall.  There’s no analysis needed to understand that.

Yes, the show, along with many others debuted in 1984.  Soleil Moon Frye, the actress who portrayed Punky Brewster, now a spritely 33-years-old, celebrated her one-millionth twitter follower by dressing up as the character one more time. 

Somehow, when I heard this news, I thought it would be steamier than it is.  It’s just kinda weird. She looks like most girls in Portland, who’ve perfected the art of taking three hours to look like they’ve rolled out of bed.  [via]

In 1985, Ebony magazine printed a feature speculating on what various celebrities might look like in the year 2000.

It predicted that Michael Jackson would look like the above.  Well that didn’t work out so well.  In their defense though, it’s kinda hard to predict all the maladies that MJ suffered from, whether it was the bleachy skin disease, the child molesting, the plastic surgery or his general weirdness. 

Still, there’s no excuse to predicting Michael Jackson will look like Billy Dee Williams with a jericurl and a pencil mustache.  No excuse.  [via]

But aren’t you more curious to feel like a dirty old pervert by oogling pictures of Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger from the pages of Maxim?

See, Ginny’s magic spell is that someone she became all grown up without us realizing it.

The intro audio is priceless. I just got home from baseball practice, eating McDonald’s, and couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The crowds of people along the freeway holding signs. In retrospect, this event did more to shift American culture in the past two decades than anything else.

Everyone remembers where they were when this went down. It was some crazy shit. I mean some serious bat-shit crazy shitshow. My parents remember where they were when JFK got shot, but me? I remember THIS?!?

I hate to say it, but the agony in the guy’s voice is pretty dang funny now, even if it sounds like the anguish of a confession. “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, I’m the only one that deserves this! All I did was love Nicole. I love everybody.”

Love = brutally stabbing your wife with a large kitchen knife. Right Juice? Right, Juice? Toss it, man, just toss it. Juice? Juice? JUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUICCCCCCCCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Allen should be proud as he’s gotten more from American Apparel and company owner Dov Charney, than anyone previously got from several sexual harassment suits. 

Charney is straight skeevy.

Assuming, of course, the man was also 4′10″.   Either that or Kiefer was giving a flying headbutt off a barstool.  Nothing more to see, move about your day. 

Ha, turns out the guy he headbutted was a women’s fashion designer. 

New York’s Daily News reports that Sutherland, 42, was talking to Brooke Shields at a Met Gala after-party when Jack McCollough accidentally bumped into the actress. Sutherland then demanded the designer apologize and when he didn’t, well Sutherland put on his tough guy britches. 

“Sutherland was really drunk,” another witness tells the New York Post. “They started arguing and then he just head-butted him.”

McCollough’s injuries remain unknown, but TMZ reports he suffered lacerations on his nose.

The only thing missing from this story is Julia Roberts and Lyle Lovett on the double date, with Corey Haim and Corey Feldman doing blow off some hooker’s backside in the bar’s corner.

Outtakes from her Coed Magazine photo shoot.

Seems like James Franco hasn’t forgotten his days as Daniel Desario.  But this was bound to happen with all the school he was getting and working on his new book, right?  Though, I guess he can afford to fall asleep with not having to worry about money and all.

[via TMZ]

Whew, that’s a relief.  Josh Saviano AKA Paul Pfeiffer from The Wonder Years is a 32-year-old NYC lawyer.  32?!?  32!?!  He looks like he’s 45, easily.  Does hanging with Kevin Arnold age you like a president. 

[via]

Quick backstory: Danny DeVito gets sloshed on Limoncello with George Clooney one night and then goes on The View the next morning possibly still drunk.  It ends with Danny DeVito getting his own signature line of lemon-flavored liqueur. 

Plus Danny DeVito in a bowler hat you guys.

It’s only natural that you’d want to live it up and let yourself go after accomplishing your life’s goal of winning 8 Gold Medals at the 2008 Beijing Olympics.  So kudos to 23-year-old swimmer Michael Phelps for doing just that.

“Phelps was in town to a see a sorority girl he was dating, but spent the entire weekend getting stoned every night, throwing down beers and smoking pot,” the British tabloid magazines said, of his trip last November to South Carolina.

“At one point someone asked him if he wanted to smoke some weed,” a source told Star. “Michael didn’t hesitate and headed to a small back room, where he was immediately handed a big red bong.”

Here’s the thing.  I don’t think any less of Michael Phelps, but that $30 Wal Mart he’s smoking out of is definitely unbeffitting his stature as one of the world’s best athletes.  Dude, you gots to start carrying around your own signature Michael Phelps Bong.  It should be completely gold with eight chambers to hit from.  In fact, what you need is a Michael Phelps hookah, available only in gold.  You could roll up to any party in style and no one would judge you.

Instead, you’re grovelling and apologizing for being young and on top of your game.  Phelps said: “I engaged in behavior which was regrettable and demonstrated bad judgment. I’m 23 years old and despite the successes I’ve had in the pool, I acted in a youthful and inappropriate way, not in a manner people have come to expect from me. For this, I am sorry. I promise my fans and the public it will not happen again.”

Translation: I engaged in behavior which was regrettable (not really since that night was awesome) and demonstrated bad judgement (by letting some asshat take a photo of Michael Phelps ripping bong hits).  I’m 23 years old and despite the successes in the pool (c’mon it’s me we’re talking about here!  I just won 8 freakin’ Gold Medals at the Olympics.  I’m an athletic hero to millions),  I acted in a youthful and inappropriate way (only if you count the groping that went on later that night!) not in a manner people have come to expect from me (especially grandma who was totes disasppointed in those photos.  Grandma, I’m sorry).  For this I am sorry (not so much but you’re buying this right?  Right?)  I promise my fans and public that it will not happen again (it will, but that I’ll be confiscating camera phones beforehand so this type of awkward photo doesn’t make the papers again).

I guess.

And while we don’t usually peddle in this sort of trashy celebrity news (wait, what, this is happy news!) it always makes us laugh to realize that one of the sexiest women in the world is dating the guy in the back seat at the opening of Super Troopers.

There’s hope for us all.  Or rather those that don’t have super sexy girlfriends already and are slightly dorky.

“I’m freakin’ out man.”

Click here to view the embedded video.

I’m trying to think of something to say, but my brain does not work and my mouth is on the floor (the above was also not the best pic).  Now that Cupid has been reduced from 13 episodes to just nine for ABC’s midseason, he needs to get it together and give us a Veronica Mars movie. 

Let’s take another look at Veronica Mars season 4 shall we?

Part 1

Click here to view the embedded video.

Part II

Click here to view the embedded video.

(via Goldenfiddle)

“That’s my goal,” the actor, 44, told Extra at the Monday screening of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button in New Orleans. “I don’t think ’staches are respected enough.”

The star has been sporting the facial hair while shooting war flick Inglourious Basterds.

Added Pitt: “It’s political. It’s a political statement.”

I’m not buying political, but it is a statement of awesomeness.

“Joe [the Plumber] got buttonholed by Ben Affleck’s agent (Patrick-something from Endeavor, I think?) There was some serious talk about Joe appearing as the star on the next season of The Bachelor. Whether McCain wins or loses, believe me, Joe Wurzelbacher has already come out a winner.

“But as night wore on to early morning, Joe finally got some “quality” alone time with a certain female cast member. I’m not that familiar with the show, but I know it wasn’t Tina Fey or Amy Poehler. The skinny brunette, I think it was. Kirsten, maybe? Joe’s got good taste: she’s definitely hotter in person. And judging by her taste in plumbers, maybe a closet Republican. … Politics sure makes strange bedfellows! (I ran into Joe this morning at the hotel – see picture – and ever the gentleman, he refused to reveal more than his mile-wide grin.)”

Joe the Plumber is the worst, Kristen Wiig is slowly going there with the nose job and now this.  She used to be the best.  [Politico]

Wow are you really 37 today?  We’ve been through a lot together you and I even if you don’t know it.  We fell in love when you were in Lucas and continued our love affair through Beetlejuice, Heathers, Welcome Home Roxy Carmichael and developed unhealthy obsession when you showed in Edward Scissorhands, Little Women and Reality Bites.

Looking back it’s really been all down hill since then.  We were able to forgive you for a slew of movies (especially Mr. Deeds, Autumn in New York) and wanted to wrap you up and give you a giant hug when you were arrested for shoplifting.  You tore our heart out and we wondered if everything we built together just got thrown away.  But still, as Ennis Delmar said, we couldn’t quite you.

No, there was always something about you: that crazy hair, that slacker coolness, the soft voice, how you got Johnny Depp to put a tattoo of you on his arm and then your love for sleeping with every rockstar on the planet.

So were are we know?  37.  Hard to imagine that the cutest little thing is all grown up now.  I have a feeling we’re not done, especially now with your recent move into science-fiction by starring in A Scanner Darkly and the upcoming Star Trek reboot from J.J. Abrams.

It’s almost like you want us to like you even more than we already do.  Happy Birthday Winona.  

Truer words my friend, truer words.

Possibly the best part of their shopping experience is how both of them haven’t seen hardly any of the movies they pull off the shelf. Or when Anderson sheepishly calls 300 a “violent” and “a bit much” of a film.

That’s how you spell it.� Now, this is coming from The Sun and here’s the basis for the story.� Bale’s mother and sister went to lodge a complaint at a Hampshire, UK police station yesterday.� Today, Bale will be brought in for questioning regarding the undisclosed matter.

A Met Police spokesman said: �We can confirm we have received allegation from another force in relation to an alleged incident in central London.�

Then the story is rounded out with quotes from an unnamed source, never a good thing, and some bullshit background about Ledger’s death.� Still, it’ll be interesting to see how this plays out.

And it also goes without saying that we had no idea she was this attractive. Cute yes, but in this picture she is bomb (click to see large version). When she shows up in some bad movie she always leaves an impression enough to say, “who was that?” Like an early Will Ferrell.� And we are constantly surprised to learn it is always Kristen Wiig who leaves that lasting impression. Chameleon? Possibly. Incredibly funny? Goes without saying.

Here’s to hoping she leaves SNL for bigger and better things rather than hang around until her flower has wilted (see: Amy Poehler).� [photo: via]

Fishnets, leather boots and jacket, thick eyeliner. Not your Mother�s Barbie. And not mine either (Oh, if only. My childhood would have been infinitely more interesting).

Mattel�s newest release is Black Canary Barbie, ostensibly based on the DC Comics superheroine of the same name

Black Canary is noted for her martial-arts skills and her “Canary Cry” � a high powered, sonic scream with the ability to shatter objects and incapacitate villains. Among the first generation of superheroes, she was a member of the Justice Society of America, the first superhero team to appear in comic books.

Black Canary Barbie is slated to hit store shelves in September under the Black Label collection . Understandably, this new Dominatrix incarnation of Barbie is causing a bit of an uproar. The Sun is there

I�ll spare you a Barbie diatribe and leave you with this question: who would buy this for their daughter?

“Barack Obama makes me feel good to be a black man. Just seein’ him up there representin’ intelligently and really knowing what he talkin’ about and defending his shit even when they try and shoot at him. The old president and baby girl — Bill and Hill — they tried to double wop on him. Boo bop. But he have enough game to get out of that.”

I’m not quite sure what it means to double wop on someone, but I’m pretty sure no one actually tried to shoot Barack Obama.� Also, wouldn’t it be great if Snoop Dogg could narrate your life and make even the most trite and boring aspects of your day sound exciting?

“Yeah that’s Jim representin’ the moring cereal.� Double O’s!”� You best believe that I’m going to double wop on Phil from accounting later today.� I’m sure there are a million more jokes to be made that I don’t have time for… but just think about Snoop Dogg narrating your day.� [via]

Apparently Britney, Paris, Lindsay, the prudish chick from Sex and the City, Kim Kardashian and the Pam Anderson weren’t the first celebrity sex-tapers. Cultural icon Marilyn Monroe beat them to it. The best part about this story, which is being reported everywhere, is the supposed decency of the perv who bought it.

A 15-minute film of Marilyn Monroe engaging in oral sex with an unidentified man will be kept from public view by a New York businessman who has bought it for $1.5 million, the broker of the deal said on Monday.

Memorabilia collector Keya Morgan said he recently arranged the sale of the silent, black-and-white film from the son of a dead FBI informant who possessed it to a wealthy Manhattan businessman who wants to protect Monroe’s privacy.

“The gentleman who bought it said out respect for Marilyn he’s not going to make a joke of it and put it on the Internet and try to exploit her,” said memorabilia collector Keya Morgan. “That’s not his intention and I would never get my name involved if that were to happen.”

Monroe is clothed and the man’s head remains out of the frame for the entire 15 minutes of the film, said Morgan, who watched it.

So yeah, the public won’t be seeing it, but you can be damn sure the guy who bought it is going to watch it over and over again. According to the NY Post:

The footage appears to have been shot in the 1950s. When it came to light in the mid-’60s, then-FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover had his agents spend two weeks futilely trying to prove that Monroe’s sex partner was either John F. Kennedy or Robert F. Kennedy, according to declassified agency documents and interviews, Morgan said.

The silent black-and-white flick shows Monroe on her knees in front of a man whose face is just out of the shot.

He never moves into the shot, indicating that he knew the camera was there, but Monroe never looks at the lens, said Morgan, who saw the footage.

So who’s the guy, Joe DiMaggio? Guess not, cause Joltin’ Joe tried to buy the tape for a measly $25 G’s back in the day. But the final note on this story belongs to The Superficial, who goes “All I have to say is, what the shit? People gave blowjobs in the ’50s??! Annnd I’m impotent. Good game, penis.”