Things I Think I Think About War of the Worlds (SPOILERS)

1. The movie's FREAKIN' AMAZING GOOD. Let's get that out of the way first thing. It sets a new bar for alien movies. I want to see it again. I want the DVD. I want a Universal themepark ride. And I want an alien tripod of my very own (to, you know, go to my 10th year high school reunion with or something).

2. Can we knight Morgan Freeman for narration? Do you think he'd read my grocery list to me over the phone if I kidnapped someone he loved?

3. Even though Dakota Fanning spent 95% of the movie in tears or screaming, I never once thought she needed a good slap to the face. That's at least half a thumb in itself. And I was the one who swore I'd never watch another movie with her after Hide and Seek.

4. Alien Tripods Vs. Predator. Now that's a movie I'd get excited. Or better yet: Harold and Kumar Go To Alien Tripodtown. Oooooooo...genius.

5. I dare say that this is Tom Cruise's best performance since Jerry Maguire. I think that he actually believed aliens were after him. Which might explain his unusually happy behavior lately. You re-evaluate your life after you survive blood-thirsty alien tripods.

6. Bad Idea Jeans = Getting on a ferry when aliens are chasing you. Why? Ferries do not have basements.

7. Bad Idea Jeans #2 = Any man who drinks Peach Schnapps can NEVER be trusted. When the character in the movie suggested it to Tom Cruise, I let out the big audible, "Dude...no."

8. Mental note: Aliens tolerate Boston.

9. Did anyone else get the feeling that the mom didn't seem really surprised or happy enough to see them at the end, considering the circumstances?? I mean, if I save the kids against all odds from eternal damnation, I'd at least expect a handshake. Or a pregnant chest bump. Something.

10. Go See the Movie.

You know what? Someone clued me into this email news Monday night at my birthday party over a few pitchers of beer. And all I had to say was, "Good for Rob Thomas. Bout time he got some kind of play cause he sure ain't geting airplay."

Now, his solo CD, Something to Be, is shootin' up the Amazon charts (#33 and climbing as of Noon PST) Next thing you know, every single Blackeyed Pea will be banging Brad Pitt and Bo Bice will be seen scouring Santa Monica Boulevard for him a young WB stud.

Now. Is the above gossip true? Maybe. Maybe not. As for me, I'm currently looking at the above CD's song titles (like "Lonely No More" or "I Am An Illusion" or my personal fave, "My My My") and thinking maybe, just maybe, we should have seen this coming. But for now, let's all just glance at the lyrics for the Matchbox 20 classic, "Bent," penned by Mr. Rob Thomas himself.

"Bent"

If I fall along the way
Pick me up and dust me off
And if I get too tired to make it
Be my breath so I can walk

If I need some other love
Give me more than I can stand
And when my smile gets old and faded
Wait around I'll smile again

Shouldn't be so complicated
Just hold me and then
Just hold me again

Can you help me I'm bent
I'm so scared that I'll never
Get put back together

You're breaking me in
And this is how we will end
With you and me bent

If I couldn't sleep could you sleep
Could you paint me better off
Could you sympathize with my needs
I know you think I need a lot

I started out clean but I'm jaded
Just phoning it in
Just breaking the skin

Can you help me I'm bent
I'm so scared that I'll never
Get put back together

You're breaking me in
And this is how we will end
With you and me bent

Start bending me
It's never enough
I feel all your pieces

Start bending me
Keep bending me until I'm completely broken in

Shouldn't be so complicated
Just touch me and then
Just touch me again

Can you help me I'm bent
I'm so scared that I'll never
Get put back together

You're breaking me in
And this is how we will end
With you and me bent

Can you help me I'm bent
I'm so scared that I'll never
Get put back together

You're breaking me in
And this is how we will end
With you and me bent

Wow...uh huh...yep. Awkward.

Brandon: Mischa!

Mischa: WHAT!

Brandon: No...come closer.

Mischa: I said what!

Brandon: (whispers) I just got my shorts wet.

Mischa: Serves you right. Wear trunks next time schmoopie.

Brandon: They're totally wet. They're ruined.

Mischa: You're a billionaire. You can just buy another pair.

Brandon: BUT I DON'T WANNA ANOTHER PAIR! I WANT THESE!

Mischa: Would you quiet down and just take that dress shirt off?

Brandon: Why? You know that I'm fat.

Mischa: You're causing people to stare.

Brandon: I'm fat AND my shorts are wet. I'm such a loser. I'm a mess.

Mischa: You ARE NOT. You're just big-boned.

Brandon: Oh yeah. I kinda am, aren't I?

Mischa: Yes you are. (pause) Now take your shirt off.

Brandon: No. It might get sand on it.

Mischa: YOU DON'T COMPROMISE ON ANY OF MY WANTS OR DESIRES!!

Brandon: Okaaay. What do you want me to do? I'll do it!

Mischa: Swim out there an touch that buoy? For me?

Brandon: ARE YOU INSANE? My shorts will get wet!

Mischa: I want to break up.

Brandon: Me too.

RAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!! Kong underwhelmed!!! Fire agent!!!GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!! Me think Director Man blew load too soon! Should have kept Kong under wraps longer! Kong like suspense!! Kong like foreplay!! ARRRRRGGHHH!! Why movie look like Xbox game?? Kong hate constant blue screen!! GRRRROOOWWWL! Looks like Jack Black miscast!! Me mad!! Crush trailer!! KONG star, NOT Black! His bad acting might ruin back-end profit deal for Kong!! RRRRRRRRR!!! Dinosaurs so over!! Bore Kong!! RAAAAWWWLLL!!! Naomi Watts no return Kong calls!!! Kong angry but understand!! Remind Kong watch 21 Grams!! Movie excite Diddy Kong!! ARRRRRRHHGG!! Director Man use bad camera angle for Kong! Add 10 pounds!! KONG DEPRESSED!!! Kong quit sequel!! RAAAAARRRRR!!!

Britney: unfortunately, still wearing Jamie-Lynn's clothes

Old Chinese proverb:

Give a redneck a baby and you'll have yourself another redneck.

Teach a redneck she can get $$$ for posing nude with her baby and she'll start funding scientists to come up with ways to have 20 redneck babies at a time. She might even knock you over the head and take your baby if you're not looking.

This is simultaneously the best and worst example of Photoshop skills I have ever seen. From this point on, I will just think that the banner above really said that. And that each one of those lucky girls will be in attendance at the 25th birthday celebration this evening. Mucho gratis goes out to Miss Kentucky, who sent it.

As for me, I'm still pissed at the people (you know who you are) that conned me into thinking Carl's Jr. still gives free coffee to senior citizens (like me). That is not funny guys. Eight o'clock in the morning is way too early for sarcastic mockery from fast-food workers.

p.s. With any luck, I'll be late-nightin' with these fellas.

Dear Magic Bullet Infomercial,

I love you. I know it might be too soon. But I do. I love you more than a person should legally love an infomercial. People talk about our love and say that it will never last. I just look at them, give them a knowing glance and say, "It does any job in ten seconds. Step to that."

I even wrote about our love in today's issue of SMRT-TV. I'm hoping everyone will read it with understanding and appreciate that what we have...is true. Truer than raindrops, roses, whiskers on kittens, etc. It's a Sade type of love.

Love and dicing capabilities,

Me

1. Empty your head of all knowledge or creativity.

2. Go to the Other Pics JJB board EVERY CHANCE YOU GET. Don't dare sleep or eat. Wait for updates. Find new pictures and post every single one. EVERY SINGLE ONE. Take uppers if it helps keep up.

3. Title entries creatively. Brainbusters such as "Mandy Moore Walks To The Store," "Lindsay Lohan Looks Skinny" or "Beckham and Posh Step Outside" are not only perfect. They will attract lots of followers who will provide you with comments like "OMG" and "You're awesome." And that's what shitty celebrity picture blogging is all about.

4. If you really have the time (outside of the difficult task of posting EVERY SINGLE PICTURE YOU FIND, of course), write on the pictures with a creative colorful font. No one has ever done that before.

5. Don't worry. Most people don't get this far, but if you really have to, now's the time for some commentary. Pull out your Shitty Celebrity Picture Blog Commentary Mad Libs:

OMG. What is ______ wearing?
Awwwww,______ and _______ are so cute together!!
Tom Cruise is _____ crazy!!! Isn't he?
Lindsay Lohan has a ______ problem.
and my favorite,
Here is ________ at ___________.

6. American soldiers are still dying every day in Iraq. Whatever!?! The hotlinking of pictures is the biggest US problem today. For God's sake, the pictures are in your Imageshack account!!! Therefore, you own them. So you have to make a stand quickly. A JPEG at the top or side of your blog saying, "STOP HOTLINKING MY PICS PEOPLE!!" will suffice. If it doesn't stop the petty criminals, just write a comment on your blog threatening that YOU WILL stop your Shitty Celebrity Picture Blog if they don't appreciate all your hard work. Immediately start complaining if enough people don't reply with praise. If for some reason that praise doesn't come, just forget it and continue being genuinely shitty all-around.

7. Speaking of hard work, you should be getting paid for the blood and sweat you put into your Shitty Celebrity Picture Blog. Because going to the aforementioned JJB message board takes time that you could be spent at more worthwhile pursuits. Like adding more friends to your Myspace account. Put a Paypal button on your site and pressure your followers into donating. Again, because, hey, they don't give free Blogger accounts to just anyone!!

8. Always be under the impression that you are the VERY FIRST one to post a picture, write a witty headline or, heck, start a Shitty Celebrity Picture Blog. Second place is for losers. But you might as well slit your wrists all over your Hello Kitty keyboard if you're the 78th person to post that latest picture of Christina Aguilera and her fiancee.

9. If on your hourly search for more shitty celebrity pictures, you find another (gasp) Shitty Celebrity Picture Blog, don't panic. Politely comment on this OBVIOUSLY Shitty Celebrity Picture Copycat Blog that you would appreciate them not stealing your photos. If they reply with, "WTFEver, I gotz dese from JJB, yo," guess what? You have a new BFF on your blogroll. YAY!!

10. Put every single site meter or tracking meter on your site you can find. You want others to know how truly awesome (or is it shitty?) your Shitty Celebrity Picture Blog is doing at all times, right? Oh, who are we kidding? You have your blog's minute-by-minute stats text messaged to your cell as well.

11. ALWAYS talk about yourself and your Shitty Celebrity Picture Blog in the third person. Start a Cafepress account and sell t-shirts and buttons proclaiming that your Shitty Celebrity Picture Blog is King of All The Shitty Celebrity Picture Blogs. Run for Shitty Celebrity Picture Blog President. If there's not yet a position like that created, suggest it on the JJB Board. Don't worry. It will catch on. YOU ALL WIN!!

12. BE SURE to FREQUENTLY post pictures of the huge-est celebrity of them all: YOURSELF!! Vanity went out in the 80's and everyone (and that even means people who have yet had the pleasure of seeing your Shitty Celebrity Picture Blog) wants to see pictures of yourself with your boyfriend/girlfriend/dog/second-cousin going to the movies/club/beach/grocery store!! HEY!! I have a ingenious idea!! Open up a Flikr account and give your followers the option of looking at that TOO!! You know, other than the 100 or so pictures a week you post of yourself anyways!! LOL!!

This interview was Off the Wall Amazing. And it totally reminded me of my D.A.R.E. counselor and how intense he was back in the day. Sooo...

What It Would Be Like If Tom Cruise Applied to Be Your Child's Personal D.A.R.E. Counselor

Principal Crabapple: So, Mr. Cruise. I hear you want to teach...D.A.R.E.??

Tom: Yes. It is something I feel INTENSELY about.

Crabapple: What makes you qualified for the position?

Tom: I consider myself a D.A.R.E. historian. Are you listening?

Crabapple: Yes.

Tom: No. Are you really listening to me?

Crabapple: Yes.

Tom: I don't think you are. You see, I'm passionate about listening. I've read books about listening. I actually flipped through all the pages and comprehended each word INTENSELY. Come to think of it, I consider myself a listening historian.

Crabapple: Uh huh.

Tom: That's the problem with children today. They're too drugged up on Ritalin to really understand...or listen.

Crabapple: I don't think we really need to talk about Ritalin in the class.

Tom: WHAT? That's going to be the main focus.

Crabapple: Ritalin?

Tom: YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT RITALIN IS!!

Crabapple: Excuse me.

Tom: Can you even spell it?

Crabapple: R-I-T...

Tom: That's not Ritalin. I've read books on Ritalin. I know what it does to people. I don't think you're listening.

Crabapple: I heard you. You were talking about Ritalin.

Tom: Mrs. Crabapple, I am a Ritalin historian.

Crabapple: Uh huh.

Tom: It's a street drug...

Crabapple: But...

Tom: I'm sorry. Was I finished...

Crabapple: Well...

Tom: A STREET DRUG, MRS. CRABAPPLE!!

Crabapple: (truly scared now)

Tom: (Motions over to Katie, who is tethered to Tom with one of those parent-child safety belts you occasionally see at the mall) For example, look at my beautiful fiancee. She listens. Right Kate?

Katie: (She nods gingerly)

Tom: (Starts smiling proudly towards her) You want a cookie?

Katie: (She nods happily)

Tom: (He throws her a cookie) There you go. (Back to Mrs. Crabapple) See? Kids today respond to cookies.

Crabapple: Okaaay. Mr. Cruise, what about your ties with Scientology...

Tom: Long before I was a Scientologist, I was still INTENSELY...are you listening...INTENSELY interested in listening. Just before filming began on Days of Thunder, I took an entire week off and flew my private jet into the Sahara Desert with nothing but a sleeping bag. Guess what I did there?

Crabapple: Listened?

Tom: Exactly.

If I was ever cast on a primetime soap, I think I would do okay right up until the point in which we'd have to take the cast bed photo.

You know the one. Everyone's on the bed, fully clothed, and their arms, legs and heads are intricately put together like Lincoln Logs. Their arrangement in this erotic puzzle is usually symbolic in a way of the character's relationships with each other. You're on the entire other side of the bed from another character? You want to cut each other. Your head is on her crotch? As Madonna would sing, "That crotch will be your playground. It will be your priiide and joy."

Unfortunatly, I couldn't participate in such a group photo. Because I...am...a...cast bed photo logisticphobe. I mean, just think about it. The shoot probably takes a while to set up, right? What if you're on the inside and you have to go number one? You'd probably have to take a pee break, piss off the photographer by breaking up the flow and then you're regulated to "outside the circle status" where you're unsure where to put that "other hand." Do I put it behind my head, awkwardly by my side or should I flex a little to make everyone else who sees the photo afterwards jealous?? What if you're Jason Priestley and you have Gabrielle Carteris's head on your chest? Is it proper cast bed photo etiquette to say, "Gabs, could you maybe move your head down to my feet? You're thisclose to my face. And, let's be serious, this face is 90210." And then there's the problem of the possibility of a major character getting killed off. Do you take a whole other picture and shake up the arrangement or do you erect a little memorial in his or her original location in the photo? What if there's a FRIGGIN' BABY? Babies definitely don't belong in cast bed photos. That's a whole other entry to itself.

I watched the Bruce Willis movie Hostage yesterday.

If you haven't seen it, rent it. Put in at the top of your Netflix queue. Or get in your time machine and go back to watch it in the theater. Whatever. But you must see it. Not because it's a good movie. No. It actually falls into the terrible to slightly average range.

The reason why everyone must see the movie is because it contains the most out-of-place character performance since Bobcat Goldthwait in Police Academy 3: Back in Training. Once you watch it, you'll automatically know who and what I'm talking about. It's the teenage character of Mars played by actor Ben Foster of Whatever It Takes fame. Everytime he was on the screen, pulsating with intensity, I laughed out loud and started studying his mannerisms because, yes, I plan on being him for Halloween 2005. Just so I can say something like this if I were to walk up to a house expecting a mini-Crunch bar or two:

Unknowing Old Lady: "Aren't you a little too old to be out trick-or-treating?"

Me: (After staring at her for 10 straight minutes, using intense method acting skills of imagining this old lady crashing a giant helicopter into my one and only 16th birthday pool party) "Do...you...have any...candy corn?"

I'm serious. Someone watch it so you can understand just how insanely awesome this idea is. This is going to be at least 500% better than last year's Redneck Mullet Man Who May Or May Not Have Pumped Your Gas Yesterday costume.

OH NOooooooo!!! Nicky Hilton's a coke addict too??

And a lazy one at that. She's got the 12-pack with the box that tears off at the end and becomes a fridge dispenser. But of course, that end box perforation thingee always tears off haphazardly at 3 AM and then, BAM, you've got COKE all over your kitchen floor. The police could walk in at that exact moment, someone would yell "Carl, dust me off some Hilton prints" and she'd be in for some Hard Time. In a federal pound-me-in-the-ass prison. All because of coke. It ruins lives, I tell ya.

See also:
Nicole Richie Is Hooked On Coke

Le Baiser del'Hotel de Ville, Paris, 1950


Tom's 746th Time Crossing First Base (With No Intention of Even Glancing At Second), NYC, Today

I'd only fly in this plane if I could be the nipple.

Virgin Atlantic is finally old enough to drink today. Yay. Richard Branson celebrated by paying Pamela Anderson exclusively in Sacagawea coins to stand on the wing with him for 21 sexy seconds in order to possibly fool future flyers into thinking, "Hey, maybe all the Virgin flight attendants look like that...and wear that...and are virgins. (sigh)"

Did you think they painted all the airplanes with this chick? That's pretty hot. Not worth every friggin' thing in Virgin Megastores being 50% over regular cost. But hot, nonetheless. BTW, I've been boycotting Virgin all-together since I was fifteen. At that age, my father brought home for me the worst gift imaginable after a weekend business trip: a Virgin shirt. Yep. Just the logo. With cruel and unusual expectations for me to wear it in public:

Me: "Are you serious?"
Dad: "What? What's the matter?"
Me: "No...all day long."

Update: Note to future billionaire self: hire Pam for all parties. I will never look at miniature airplanes the same way again.

A Stakeout Conversation Betwixt Gary & Steve (FBI Agents)

Gary: Dude, this is a ton of weed.

Steve: Gary, I know. You already said that.

Gary: And why can't we steal it again?

Steve: Because we're federal agents. And this was a stakeout.

Gary: I could buy America with all this weed.

Steve: Hurry up, man. We have to box the rest of this stuff up.

Gary: I will smoke this entire box. It's a gigantic doobie box.

Steve: You can't smoke boxes.

Gary: Who are you, Mr. Wizard? Of course you can.

Steve: Really. How, exactly?

Gary: (LONG pause) Light it on fire. Set it under a tree. Climb up the tree.

Steve: What if someone catches you?

Gary: I'll just say I thought the box was exploding.

Steve: You are a complete idiot.

Gary: Do you have any matches? Hold it while I lick the edge.

I'm really not up to snuff on all the awareness bracelets and the colors and what they mean. I do know that yellow usually stands for cancer. That's it.

At his latest court hearing, Tom Sizemore, who also advocates beating the hell out of all hooker madam girlfriends (currently without a bracelet color), wore a green bracelet. Does he advocate The Hulk? Slime? The Packers?

Just because I'm a Tom Sizemore fan (of his cinematic endeavors), I took about 30 seconds out of my day and found out what a GREEN awareness bracelet can stand for:

Bone Marrow
Childhood Depression
Depression
Environmental
Eye Injury
Genocide in Darfur(Sudan)
Kidney Cancer
Kidney Transplant
Kidney Disease
Lyme Disease
Mental Retardation
Organ Donation
Tissue Donation
Worker Safety

What a Debbie Downer he's become. There's nothing remotely funny about any of these!! Why can't anyone ever advocate something humorous? Like polarbear alcoholism? Or paraplegic ice dancing? What if, knock on wood, I were to go into unicorn withdrawal?? No one's got my back? Damn. I think about stuff like this when I'm waiting for my Foreman Grill to heat up.

(Info via Awareness Depot)

Everyone remember Star Jones's last diet update??

Well...she's skinnier now. She's lost her hubby and nephews. And she's still a lawyer. Now, if someone would just invent a personality stapling surgery and some calf girdles, she'd be all set.

p.s. I'd only watch The View if my TV had a chip implanted that would block out everyone on the show but Elizabeth Hassel-breast. She's A.O.K. in my book.

You know. I guess they're right. Senior citizens, although slow and dangerous behind the wheel, can still serve a purpose. ~Lloyd Christmas

Dang. It probably took Grandpa about six hours to get to this point. That is, if you start counting from the point he heard about the D.C protest on NPR. Then there was the showering, getting the falsies all white and bright, Old Spice slathering, the dusting-off of his nice hat, the 30 minute walk outside to the car, starting it up, driving, etc. It was like his own sad and final Fellowship of the Ring. Only alone. And with a digital camera.

And now these corny ass topless chicks won't even turn around.

How could PETA be so selfish??

Today's Imaginary Cellphone Conversation With Jake G. After I See Him And K Dunst Not-So-Slyly Hanging Together

Jake: Hello?

Me: Dude...your girlfriend's busted.

Jake: Huh? I don't know what you're talking about, man.

Me: Don't lie to me, dude.

Jake: We broke up. You know that.

Me: If you're going to continue seeing her, I suggest you do it on the UDL.

Jake: UDL?

Me: That's the Ultra Down Low, dude.

Jake: I plead the fifth.

Me: You could drink an entire fifth and she'd still be busted.

Jake: That's rude, man.

Me: I can't even put a pic on the blog. I have to link to it. Ugh.

Jake: I'm hanging up now.

Me: I'm posting this conversation. As a warning.

Jake: Whatever.

(END)

I took a wrong turn somewhere.

I think I'm in the middle of Los Angeles. But I'm not sure. It's a nice day and I don't have to work until 5 pm so I thought it would be a good idea to drive around and enjoy the sunny weather.

Three sticks of gum later, I'm at a Fluff and Fold laundromat talking with a old woman named Pam about Jane Pauley's talk show. Apparently there was an entire segment on big-boned women and their self esteem on today's show. Pam was very put off by the entire thing and says she's not going to watch it again. I feel for her. I'm taking a stand and saying I won't be watching it either.

I can't believe this Fluff and Fold has internet access. I had to wind the computer with a handcrank and there's a small Asian man counting down the minutes I have left. He's right in my ear. FIVE...FOUR.

I feel like I'm in Vietnam. I'm so under the gun.

I think I have a bad gum-chewing habit.

This Asian guy is really starting to piss me off. I think I'm going to challenge him to a game of Ms. Pacman.

Ummmmmm...time's up.

Just imagine.

It's a beautiful SoCal Saturday afternoon and you're looking forward to a nice normal bridal shower with one of your closest gal pals. You wrap your present all tight. You dress up classy but still a bit casual. You kiss your husband goodbye and say, "I'm going to Barbara's bridal shower, hon. I'll be back by dinnertime."

Then...you show up...and shit hits the fan from all angles.

The bride, whom mere commoners may know from her work as Casino Dealer in 1996's Foxhunt or Snow Cone Girl in 1995's Beach House , has also invited a member of the paparazzi and demanded that he take a minimum of 7,000 pictures of the shower (just in case all video cameras die of extinction in the near future and flip books are all humans have to reminisce over their most cherished events).

Seriously, without this esteemed photographer attending, we could not look back and think, "Man, that was a hell of a crazy bridal shower!! And not awkward in the least bit. Oh no." Let's take a look:

- "OMG. I'm so excited to be here...at...my own...bridal shower. Whoops! What a surprise to see you here, Mr. Cameraperson! Well, while you're here: vogue, vogue, vogue, vogue, etc."

- Remember the bride posing with those balloons while everyone was wondering if the shower had, you know, any food/drinks?

- Or how about when she took a timeout to tan her underarms? That was completely...unexpected.

- "YAAAAAYYYY!!! MY NON-CAUCASIAN FRIEND CAME!!!"

- Spin. Wash Self And Hands Of All Dignity. Repeat.

- Playboy Playmate + Window Blinds = Award-Winning Naturalism

It really has to be viewed completely to be believed.

This is the story of five soldiers...picked to hang outside a cell...and write really really funny stuff down...that Saddam actually says. This is the Real World: Saddam's Hizzouse Cell.

Face it, people. This entire story is going to be priceless. For your pleasure I have printed below some of the highlights of the Saddam Chronicles (some of which are true and some of which I made up):

- Enough is enough. He really wants to know when Big Brother 6 premieres.

- While having little positive to say about either President George W. Bush or his father, George H. W. Bush, he expresses a desire to be “friends” with them.

- When he says "friends," Saddam really means "friends with benefits." And when he says "friends with benefits," he doesn't mean "only kissing on the mouth."

- He also expresses a longing for the days when Ronald Reagan was still president.

- The only W.M.D. he knows of is in his pants. He then started listing those with proper clearance for searching for it (Jessica Simpson, Lindsay Lohan, every single Victoria's Secret model (past and present), Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen, etc.)

- He gave the soldiers advice on how to handle women (“You gotta find a good woman,” he told them. “Not too smart, not too dumb, not too old, not too young. In the middle.”)

- Hilary Duff looks like she was built with legos, he says.

- He thinks Dan Rather is “a good guy.”

- Whatever you do, don't use the prison-issued White Rain shampoo. It's a trick and it will screw up your hair forever.

- He loves Doritos chips and Raisin Bran Crunch cereal…but he won’t touch Froot Loops.

Actually I lied. The best part about this whole story is the fact that the GQ editor labels it as "the opposite of Abu Ghraib." Wouldn't that mean that Saddam would have to be beating the crap out of all five of these dudes? And, like, pointing at them? And more? I'd now much rather see this reality show than M.J.'s.

Related:
That "HILARIOUS" Downing Street Memo

Kinda funny.

Until you realize that, at this moment, Tom Cruise is having that microphone's entire family killed.

p.s. According to the eerie WOTW counter, there's only about 8.5 days left. If that movie doesn't open to 50 gazillion dolleros, I'm starting to think Tom might really do something drastic. Like Battlefield Earth but not as funny. And, then, all we are is dust in the wind, dude.

First of all, you have to feel for "the other dude." I don't know who the hell he is. He's probably been scouring the internet night after night since the shoot ended, chewing on Skittles and Googling Four Brothers . Now he's going to see this and he's going to write a comment like, "That's me, ass."

But you know he had to get hazed like a mofo while working on the movie. Marky Mark has just never seemed like he's a happy guy to me in real life. I always instantly associate him with his scenes when he suddenly becomes the coked-out asshole in Boogie Nights. Just very needy and demanding, the kind of guy that would yell at you if you screwed up just one section on a paint-by-number portrait of a horse. "WTF, DUDE!! AAHHHHhhhh...You're totally out of the Paint-By-Number Posse!!!"

On the other hand, Tyrese probably wasn't that bad. He seems like a smiley-face type of dude. Although I'm sure there was lots of "Hey, man. You saw 2 Fast 2 Furious, right? Right?" To prevent any more confusion, someone needs to go ahead and invent that thingee from The Fly so we can finally meld him and Tyson Beckford into the perfect actor/rapper/model/toothpaste salespitch person. I can't be the only one who's thought of this.

I'm glad to see Andre 3000 getting work. Although Big Boi's work on Chappelle's Show has been top-notch. Living in LA and seeing all the struggling actors and actresses spending all their trust fund money just itching to catch a break, sometimes I think someone should just open more rapper workshops. If I was an actor, that's what I'd do. Screw everything else. Just be the best rapper I know I can be. Then, the big-time movie roles would surely come my way.

Oh, Bruce Dern, no.

In the future, if you're going to hide your date's Adam's apple at a red carpet event, please do the public the courtesy of concealing it with something a little less obvious.

Like a umbrella. Or a tarp.

What the hell did he eat?

Lite Brite Crunch.

Dayum. That's some serious aura.

Close...but no cigar Mr. Defamer.

Tom Cruise actually got enraged last night in Rome.

I know. I know. One letter difference, but hey. It does change things somewhat. Our exclusive eyewitness Antonio says that Tom got extremely enraged during a quiet dinner with Katie after an unidentified poor poor soul called him "a huge Scientology dork" and said "that Last Samaurai movie blew ass."

Hearing these insults, Tom proceeded to eat the Colosseum, jump on a few Italian leather couches and laugh really really hard at surrounding helicopters. But in subtitles, of course.

A few thoughts...

1) TOO MANY FREAKIN' WORDS!!! WHY!!!

2) Let's say I knew someone who was buying one of those huge ass IKEA poster frames. How would that someone, hypothetically speaking, blow this up into a poster?

3) Once I buy my copy copies, I'm going to take that "The New Virgin Army" article and rip it right out and throw it away. Pretend it never happened. Who reads/writes/desires articles like that? Terrible.

4) 2005 = Year of the Jean (this and of course, this)

5) Let's face facts. That's at least 75% more cover words than normal.

p.s. No obsession comments. Let me just cherish this moment as this entry slowly slips down the front page screen.

First off, my dad and Mena Suvari are "just friends."

Nothing else.

Secondly, what the hell is up with every single female from American Pie?? It's like they all walked the friggin' shitty plank into the Terrible Ocean. Shannon Elizabeth is the most unnecessary actress of all time. Tara Reid DID steal my cell phone and I don't care who believes me. And Natasha Lyonne is a scary scary lady who will cut your entire immediate family for a Menthol cigarette.

Alyson Hannigan is probably doing the best of the bunch but her only big non-AP appearance on film was 2000's Boys and Girls, personally considered special because it's the only movie I've ever walked out of in a movie theater. Just left the girlfriend there and went out and sat in the car. Best decision ever.

Has everyone seen Battle Royale? If not, you should be ashamed of yourself. Who wouldn't love it to have a reality show exactly like that movie but with all the AP girls? And we'd throw in Chris Klein just for kicks. I would sell KitKat bars up and down Sunset Boulevard for someone to make that happen. Of course, we'd have to let everyone but Lyonne have twice as many guns. I'm not kidding. She's dangerous.

The look on Jennifer Love Hewitt's face may read "hard to get." But the look at that camel's face means business. Yep. Someone's getting laid tonight.

You might remember learning in grade school that camels are famous for their ability to hold large quantities of water for long periods of time. But, unfortunately, they're not good at holding their inner-most feelings for fallen 90's female celebrities inside. It's just a no-go.*

*Source = Encylopedia Britannica

Consuelo thought his week couldn't get any worse. He and his wife have twins on the way, rent is past due AND he was just fired on Monday from his position as Head of Banana Bruising Prevention at Chiquita Brands International after 24 years of faithful servitude.

Then, while using his 10-minute library internet surfing time to search for banana-industry jobs, he sees these breaking-news photos. Not only is Chiquita doing better production-wise since his sudden departure. They're now throwing glamorous swimsuit fashion shows on the factory floor.

Poor Consuelo. He probably will never eat a banana again.

I must have totally spaced out on this one but:

When the hell did Ann Margret win the Super Bowl??

Wow. Congratulations.

Awww...the little fella's got the "For The Last Time, Yes, I Know My Sister's Not Wearing A Bra Look" on his face.

How much you wanna bet that Kathy Hilton was sitting at home and looking at her burgeoning young son and said, "You better get your face out there in the public eye and start making an ass out of yourself!"

"But, Moooooom, I don't want to!"

"I don't want to hear any of your backtalk!! JUST DO IT. And chaffeur your sister around while you're at it. There hasn't been a picture posted on the internet of her since this morning."

I feel for Ashton. I really do. We obviously both like Mountain Dew, overalls and not shaving every now and then. Most importantly, we both could or could not be a father at any given point in time. You just never know.

But, other than Demi, would anyone bat an eye if, immediately after this picture was taken, he just kept walking into this lake and drowned??

No Punk'd. Just drowned.

Anyone??

Think about it and get back to me.

I think I've expounded on my love for Just One of The Guys. It's one of the first movies I remember seeing and thinking, "Man, this PG-13 business is really something special." Yes, it has a full-on topless scene. The thing, I swear, comes out of thin air. And when you're seven years old, those are like little gifts of heaven until you're actually allowed to watch R-rated films. As a matter of fact, I remember looking through PG-13 videos in the video store with my brother and particularly gauging the possibility of some kind of nudity, brief or semi-brief, for each one.

Bro: "Top Gun?"
Me: "We own that. And you know there's no nudity."
Bro: "But isn't there a sex scene..."
Me: "Just stop, dude. Kelly McGillis. No."

Now, I'm not quite positive but it sure seems like Amanda Bynes's new She's The Man shares a lot of similarities to JOOTG. What does this mean? Probably nothing other than the fact that Hollywood has stopped scraping the bottom of the barrel. There's now a hole in the barrel and they're digging the hole deeper and deeper. To China or something. Which means a couple of toddlers will accidentally slip and fall down that hole and there will be a huge media circus and a ton of subsequently bad TV movies about the whole ordeal. Yes. I'm weird. Can someone start a Greg Tolan Fan Club or am I going to have to get geekily violent?

My favorite musings on JOOTG/Greg Tolan (for fun):
Patton Oswalt's The Johnny Lawrence Story
My Blog is Poop's Lessons Learned From JOOTG

Maybe it's the fact that I've been working late nights and not getting enough sleep. Maybe it's the fact that I still remember going to see the first Batman on my 9th birthday and instantly wanting Converses with the Bat symbol on them (Shut up. They were cool.) Maybe it's the fact that I just drank about a gallon of Mountain Dew.

But Batman Begins was off the freakin' chain.

Holy everlasting gobstoppers. Looking back, it's probably best that I went to see it alone. Because about 10 minutes in, something unbelievably cool happened on the screen and I turned to the 40-ish stranger lady next to me and gave her the "oh holy shit that was awesome face." I'm certain there were also audible exclamations. So to her, I am sorry. But when you're in your mid-20's, you're really nostalgic about those movies that influenced you to beat up your little brother or throw him off the roof as a kid. You wanted dudes terminating things. You wanted aliens popping out of people's chests. You wanted Stallone arm-wrestling for his son's love. This movie is one of those movies. It's dark, it's scary and it's got dudes wearing tater-sack masks and driving pimped-out cars on rooftops!!!

There's really no need to give a review. It was just awesome. Everyone and everything was kickass. Christian Bale, Michael Caine, Cillian Murphy, Liam Neeson, my partner-in-CD-burning-crime Morgan Freeman, even Katie Holmes...they all deserve special superhero movie Oscars. It was one of those movies that you come out of and you just want to hunt down some bad guys and punch them right in the mouth. I was shadowboxing the automatic paper-towel dispenser in the bathroom on the way out. You know, take that, lazy papertowel needing people!! It was geeky but I didn't care. Sometimes you just got to freak out every single dude in the Grove bathroom to get your rocks off.

Batman Begins = A

Related:
Even Jeffery Wells, who seemingly hates everything, loved it
Roger Ebert gives it four stars straight up

Living in hollywood, I've been thinking about getting a personal assistant. Most famous people have one, two or even three. I have none. Zero. Nada. But that's all about to change. I'm going to start posting my ad, everywhere from Craigslist and the newspaper to random Hollywood establishments. i even hope to persuade Chingy to star in a commercial, promoting my plight.

My ad will read:

wanted: personal assistant. must have car, truck or motorcycle with a cab, so i can ride with you if i like. must understand english because that is my first language. i know french but only little words. must know how to wang chung at any time. those who don't know how or don't appreciate the classic 80's band should not apply. duties: nothing huge or strenuous. i work out religiously so i am not hiring you for muscles. when i say religiously, i don't mean that i am a meathead. i just pray before every set, hoping to finish without tearing a muscle. small jobs will include rolling calls from family members, saving movie theater seats in the exact center (from front to back AND side to side) and buttering toast. occasionally, i will also have you do seemingly random tasks like spinning in place, finding four-leaf clovers or pointing at old people we might see on the street. just know that it all has a purpose. i am very mr. miyagi that way. but much much more insane. in that spirit, you will also be expected to sift through future personal assistant applications once i fire you. thanks.

Now look what you done did, Tom Sneddon.

You've caused earthquakes with your penis-picture hoarding ways.

Now, please, either give them back or you'll be forced to choose the Double Dare physical challenge. And I'm not talking about a simple "Pour Some Syrup on Your Sister's Head" thing. They might just pull out the obstacle course and make you do something physical like the Human Hamster Wheel or finding the flag in the huge ass burrito filled with green cheese. And no one wants to see that.

OH MY GAWD!!!!! I'M TURNING INTO A ZOMBIE!!!!!!

I swear to God that the New York Times has a crazy person detector that they just wave around at events. Case in point, today's MJ article has a few comments reading high on the wow-a-meter:

People have been trying to stop him for 20 years, to destroy his character, to destroy his name, and each time he's come back better, stronger, unbreakable," Mr. Reece said. "This man came to court every single day, strong as can be. I'm ready to party. I'm going to party for a week.

When he says "this man," he's gotta be talking about his fellow MJ fanatic Earl, right?? Right? Okay, maybe this dude has the answer:

Black folks are accustomed to sleeping in the same bed, especially if you're five or six deep and you live in a two-bedroom house because it's all we can afford," he said. "Michael is accustomed to that kind of behavior, you know, slumber-type parties.

Uhhhhhh...Michael is also accustomed to climbing trees. But if he started molesting one, I'd still tell him to stop.

(Crazy ass pic via NYT)

LAAAAAAADIES!!!

Hey guys. I have a secret. Come here...a little closer...closer still. Shhhh. I bought this jean jacket at JC Penney's. Yep. It totally looks broken in and vintage, right? Nope. Forty nine bucks, man. Bought it this afternoon. I totally hit the friggin' jackpot on this one. I know this is my first one and all, but I think I'll have to integrate this jean jacket into my red carpet wardrobe from here on out. It's lucky as hell. I just smell it. I'll wear it out. You know, if I get tired of it, make some jean shorts out of it or something. Or a bandana, even. YES! BANDANAS ARE AWESOME!!

OMG, there's Heather Locklear, dude. DUUUUUDE. I wonder if she saw my jacket. Man I hope so. You know that she saw the guns. Who could miss these babies? I've been practicin' the perfect red carpet stance for weeks. Oops. My sunglasses almost fell off. Must remember. Sunglasses on head. Jean jacket over shoulder. Sunglasses on head. Jean jacket over shoulder. Man, I wish I had some dough for some popcorn. Screw you Curious George parking deck. Ten dollars for parking my ass.

Oh snap. I just realized...my jeans totally match my jean jacket. Unreal.

X =

Dear Hilary,

Those brand new veneers are outer space, girl.

As in, that's where I can see them from.

Yep. They big.

Peace, love & flouride,
Me

Has anyone seen this movie??

What exactly is the clue?? Is it a doughnut? Creme-filled?

I'm dying here.

p.s. I hope the "never-before-seen ending" is an all-night binger of some kind. I want Lohan getting all strung out and cursing and skinny-dipping in a pool of sunless tanner. If not, this DVD is useless.

Seriously. Enough with the doves. I'm pretty sure that they are most undoubtedly non-guilty on all charges.

In fact, all of the previous doves set free are either dead of starvation or waiting for this dove to be let out blindly into the world so they can all "meet up for drinks." Yes, folks. He's the final kamikaze dove of the Michael Jackson Molestation Trial. And he will surely not see the next MJ trial. So sad.

Chew on that one, Dove Lady.

p.s. Does anyone else feel like we just let the Green Goblin go free? Just because he doesn't get all Green Goblin-y around adults doesn't mean he's not a huge supervillain that must be stopped at all costs, right?? Can we get someone on teaching these damn pigeons to follow him around 24-7? We're already all over friggin' space looking for aliens. Can't we just do this one simple thing?? Thanks.