Jamie Foxx wins an Oscar.

Now...this sneaks its way onto Craigslist??

My favorite part:

"The rules are that, obviously you don’t get drunk when you’re out partying with us. Also absolutely no hooking up with any one in the crew."

Or you will be sleeping with the fishes, see, Tom Cruise says.

If I see another long promo pleading for me to watch the first episode of the show about a blind guy that solves crimes, I'm going to stab out my eyes with my remote.

And then sit on my ass.

And not solve crimes.

I'm not joking, ABC.

I like rain and all.

But.

Please. Stop.

After not seeing the full sun in days, weeks even, it starts to mess with your psyche. You almost agree to go see "Wedding Date" because, hey, it couldn't be that bad. You almost buy a poncho for $50. Your draw pictures of sunny days with crayons, using the 64-pack to full effect. Your get daily family calls from back East, asking are you okay, are you affected by the mudslides, sinkholes, etc, etc...

It's enough.

And now the Oscars are coming and they've crippled traffic to a standstill all around my apartment. So...not only can I not walk anywhere because of the pouring-ass rain, I can't drive anywhere either.

Shat.

Sometimes people just overdo it in the battle against bad breath. Audible sigh.

Questions this story raises:

Does this woman now have super good breath? Was it the mint flavor or the citrus one? Because I could understand having a shot or two of the citrus and feeling fine about it.

Is there a support group for this? Should there be?

Is there an secret Alcoholic Dentist Cult that this news makes cringe?? "Our secrets have reached the mainstream," they might say. We must start getting rid of public figures Da Vinci Code-style by spiking their drinks with mouthwash.

If the lady would have known this guy, as a friend or IM buddy, would she have successfully foiled the police?

----
I think I'm much more interested in this than I have a right to be. It's just that during my freshman year of college, my suitemates took shots of Nyquil one time when they ran out of beer/liquor.

Luckily, they didn't drive.

I think they're still asleep.

Dear FOX,

Nothing says super like simultaneously watching the Super Bowl while holding your girlfriend's hair as she pukes up tequila into a trashcan.

At least it was an exciting game.

Oh wait. It wasn't.

At least there were exciting commercials.

No.

Entertaining movie trailers?

Not unless you count the weird 5 second one where there's a possibility of some flying debris being thrown at Dakota Fanning by aliens. Ugh.

Good work. Not.

Sincerely,

This Kitten

If I was Brit Brit, I would pose for Playboy already.

She wants to be considered edgy? She wants to less a girl, more a woman? She wants to prove she's not yet pregnant so she can continue chain smokin' Marlboros?

Do it.

I have no doubt she'd get paid INSANELY for it. We're talking break-Hugh's-bank-dough. But it would be the easiest $$ he ever spent. No doubt. I've had many conversations with various friends on what Playboy cover/pictorial would transcend porn. Inject it right into the bloodline of the mainstream public.

Britney would have to top the list. The Olsen Twins would be up there, however unsettling it is to think about. There'd probably be a couple of A-list actresses like Julia or Natalie Portman for kicks.

But it all come down to Ms. Spears. Her window of time is shortening. For in a couple years, the possibility will be there but the big bucks won't.

Do it Brit. And provide enough $$ for your impending trailer park progeny to eat Cheetos 4 Life.

Our apartment has been a constant barrage of Playboy:The Mansion lately. Highly recommended. That, coupled with these pictures from The Superficial, brought on this mishmash.