(A very symbolic picture, if you think about it.)
I used to think Britney Spears was a secret genius.
An auspicious debut, her famous “virginity,” the Timberlake chronicles, a well-timed smooch with Madonna — it was all so masterfully plotted, so expertly timed to keep her in the limelight. She had to be pretty crafty to map this meteoric rise to the top of the teen pop pantheon (and the world!), right? Yes — and I admired her for it.
It’s dawn. I haven’t slept in two days. Still, I’ve managed to look my best in designer jeans and a button-down, hair mussed just so, sipping a trendy energy drink and sporting sunglasses even before the sun has fully risen.
On any other day, it’d be safe to assume that I’m on drugs — but I’m not.
I’m on American Idol.
Since my live blog of the Golden Globes this year was surprisingly popular (really, I didn’t think anyone would care what I have to say), I am again live-blogging and tweeting up a storm for the Academy Awards this evening.
Should you need them, here are my predicted winners.
Every once in awhile, a song comes along that defines a generation.
For my generation, Manufactured Superstars’ “Drunk Text” featuring Paris Hilton is that song.
Chris Brown and Rihanna. Where to begin?
The troubled exes released not one but two remixes featuring each other yesterday — “Turn Up The Music” and “Birthday Cake.” (And it actually was Rihanna’s birthday — how meta!) It’s basically a big “fuck you” to all those who have been griping on Twitter and such about a possible collaboration between the two — why else “leak” both songs at once? Clearly those two, at least, are not concerned about the controversy.
In fact, they’re getting off on it.
The Artist has emerged in the Oscar race as the feel-good frontrunner for Best Picture. It’s a silent romantic comedy featuring a delightful international cast and a cute puppy, and even though its protagonist contemplates suicide in a melodramatic, over-the-top silent movie way, overall it’s a happy-go-lucky film.
Who could hate The Artist?
Well, Kim Novak, for one.
So, at long last, we can finally see Lindsay Lohan naked. (Is this really a first? ‘Cause I could’ve sworn…)
Anyway. Lindsay’s body is, needless to say, just fine in her new Playboy spread. My question is: why did she feel the urge to look like transgender New York City nightlife personality Amanda Lepore?
(Fair warning: not-Safe-For-Work-And-Other-Things images follow below…)
Here is Ke$ha’s latest video, “Put Your Beard In My Mouth” — which is not in any way a euphemism. It features Ke$ha literally putting a variety of facial hair of all shapes and sizes into her mouth. (I imagine she’ll start a separate blog for pics of herself coughing up hairballs.)
The vid also features a, shall we say, “Whiskers Remix” of “Your Love Is My Drug” featuring Ke$ha shouting “Beard!” at various decibel levels.
Bon appetit!
Yesterday was Britney Spears’ birthday.
Happy birthday, Britney!
No. Wait.
Miserable birthday.
You’re 30.
From the Vault: My short-lived shared blog with Justin Luke, Said Panties, in which we would riff on the same topic. This entry was all about the one and only Justin Bieber. You can find Mr. Luke’s post on same here. Mine is below.
Oh, Justin. I knew I’d meet you in my blogs eventually. I just never expected it to be quite like this…
