There’s just something so special about this site, simply titled Men Who Look Like Old Lesbians. Yes, it’s funny. But more importantly, it’s just so, so true. Give it a click and enjoy the fine selection of celebrity geezer guys (like Wayne Newton and Phil Spector, right) mixed with a few of the younger folk (think Clay Aiken and Wes Anderson). You’ll be surprised how quickly you’ll think you’re just looking at a bevy of butch babes. Gender-bending is always best when it’s unintentional!
Every week we round up selections from the funniest and most brutal film criticism out there so that you don’t waste your cash at the theaters and laugh a little at Hollywood’s expense. This week: 30 Days of Night is a movie about vampires who prey upon the northernmost town in Alaska. It’s convenient for vampires there, see, because once a year, it gets dark for 30 days. This is a natural phenomenon that has to do with the Earth, its axis, the sun, etc. What’s not natural? Josh Hartnett and Melissa George’s onscreen chemistry. That, friends, is machine-made.
“Fangs for nothing.” – The New York Post
“The monsters are shrieky, flesh-ripping zombie vampires outfitted with what appear to be entire mouthfuls of incisors. They’re commanded by a tall, brooding, and rather natty scowler (Danny Huston) who bears a disquieting resemblance to Neil Tennant of the Pet Shop Boys. Speaking in a subtitled guttural rasp that makes him sound like he just popped in from an obscure European film festival, this nightmare dandy growls out lines like ‘There is no hope, only hunger and pain.’ His name is Marlow, but they should have called him Jean-Paul Face-Chomper.” – Entertainment Weekly
Do you lack in the art of love? Don’t worry. New York’s here to help. Every week, we will post hilarious clips that cull valuable dating tips from the show. Who said I Love New York isn’t educational? Watch and learn!
Following in the esteemed tradition of the Motley Cruise and Sammy Hagar’s Cabo Wabo Cruise, John Mayer is offering you a chance to stowaway on his Mayercraft — and no, that’s not dirty talk. Escape from the Winter blahs with a February trip to the Bahamas; enter to win a dose of soft rock on the high seas at VH1′s Mayercraft site. And remember, John Boy’s going to have help. Colbie Caillat and Brandi Carlile among the other artists getting their cruise on.
Mayer stopped by to film a few promos for the sweepstakes, but we kept the cameras rolling and let the part-time stand-up comic riff a little bit. Check out the clip, which we consider to be the world’s most bizarre literacy campaign.
Rock Band Band is the greatest band ever to grace the semi-fictional stage. Their performances are legendary. Their attitude influenced generations. And their grooming habits left a lot to be desired. Before their reunion tour, we caught up with them to discover what, exactly, they need to function when they’re on the road.
VH1: What’s the strangest item you’ve ever requested be on your tour rider?
Rock Band Band: We require many essential items, without which we cannot rock. We need excessive amounts of sugar and caffeine to get through a performance. Shakti is drinking again and requires martinis with exactly five olives. Rutherford needs a nice bottle of Bordeaux backstage, onstage behind his monitor, and stashed behind the drum kit. Captain Thunderdome demands fresh brownies, and Max needs the cheapest kind of chocolate chip cookies that you’d find at day camp. Also, warm apple juice, but we call it “appy jooz.” We don’t think any of this is strange. Strange is demanding beef wellington or lobster thermidore. We just want a nice a warm meal, and some tofurkey kielbasa. Also, Shakti needs multi-colored cocktail umbrellas in her drinks, and Rutherford drinks wine through a straw.
VH1: Have you ever asked for anything purposefully ridiculous, to see how much you could get?
RBB: We always ask for a unicorn. Every show, every city, no matter what.
Troubled soul chanteuse Amy Winehouse was arrested in Norway yesterday when police received an anonymous tip that she and her husband (the U.K.’s answer to Kevin Federline) were in possession of marijuana. The couple was hauled in, along with an unidentified person, after 7 grams of weed were found in their hotel room. Yesterday all the Internets were aflutter with rumors of domestic violence and crack pipes, but it turns out it was just a little smoke. Back in August, Winehouse was found in her hotel room with a hooker and some blow, so we actually feel she’s on the road to recovery.
Just before a recently rehabbed Winehouse embarked on her rescheduled European tour, she recorded a duet with Pete Doherty, a worthy opponent for Winehouse in the battle for the title of Toxicologist’s Worst Nightmare. The song, called “1939 Returning,” is allegedly set for release later this month.
Thanks to a rough childhood, Jack collects cookie jars – but the fetish might impede his career. Jenna‘s thriving now that she’s plus-sized; she’s even stumping for Enormé, a fragrance for fatties (but her appetite is withering and she’s worried sick). Tracy‘s jealous and savvy wife Angie has hit the scene – she’s patrolling his every move. And Steve Buscemi shows up as private investigator Lenny Wozniak, looking into Jack’s tainted past.
Every week we’ll choose a few key exchanges from the show. If you’re a plump lady planning a sexy weekend, do yourself a favor, spray on some Enormé, and “make him chase the chunk.”
Wozniak : What about your family. Any skeletons there?
Jack: My brother Eddie sells faulty sprinkler systems to elementary schools, my cousin Tim fixes NBA games, my mother is an olympic level racist, and as for the rest – they’re too drunk to do anything…unless getting thrown out of a Chili’s is a crime.
Jenna: I’m losing weight. Look at my belt! This is the notch I had to make last week. This is the notch I’m using now. I’m back to the factory-made notches!
Liz: Jenna, calm down.
Jenna: No, I won’t calm down. Everything is based on the fat! Enormé, the offer to play Ms. PacMan in the live-action Atari movie, and worst of all, Jack won’t like me anymore. We have a secret ritual now where we slap our palms together when we walk by each other.
Liz: A high five?
Jenna (sobbing): It was our special thing…
Remember how earlier this week a supposed source at Def Jam shut down rumors that Nas‘ next album would be called Nigga and released in December? Now that’s been shut down. What a saga! Nas has confirmed to MTV News that he does have an album on the way (December 11, to be precise) and that it’s going to be given the potentially more offensive name of Nigger. Racial discourse, I hope you had a big meal because you’re about to get a workout. Nas elaborates on the criticism he’s received and reasons for the album title:
“If [race expert] Cornell West was making an album called Nigger, they would know he’s got something intellectual to say. To think I’m gonna say something that’s not intellectual is calling me a nigger, and to be called a nigger by Jesse Jackson and the NAACP is counterproductive, counter-revolutionary…I wanna make the word easy on muthaf***ers’ ears. You see how white boys ain’t mad at ‘cracker’ ’cause it don’t have the same [sting] as ‘nigger’? I want ‘nigger’ to have less meaning [than] ‘cracker.’ With all the bulls*** that’s going on in the world, racism is at its peak. I wanna do the s*** that’s not being done. I wanna be the artist who ain’t out. I wanna make the music I wanna hear.“
Interestingly, his stance on using the word to take away its power falls right in line with that of Imus’ lawyer (as related in the FoxNews.com story that Nas is debunking: “Words like that should be deprived of their meanings, and then they can’t hurt.” Nas and Imus’ people: who knew they had so much in common? [MTV News / Image: Getty]
Heard the one about Britney Spears getting collagen lip injections and then driving over a photographer? There’s no actual punchline, because Britney’s enough of a joke on her own. As you can see in the above video, the wreck of a singer left an LA medical center covering her mouth. Pics show her lips looking extra large, but maybe they’re just swollen from eating too many Big Macs. Girl likes things super-sized! Poor thing probably couldn’t see over her massive mouth, and that’s how she ended up nailing a photographer’s foot under her car. I have a sneaking suspicion that her lips actually knocked him out. They’re so huge she had to open her window to make room for them, and crunch! Man down. The incident so upset Britney that she stopped for a moment, started crying and then drove away to go eat a cookie. You know, something she just urgently NEEDS to do in public.
Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt‘s parenting skills get hung out to dry in the top (non-) story of Page Six in today’s New York Post. A psychologist-cum-busybody whose name I won’t type because I don’t want to add to her Google rank, claims that the jet-setting lifestyle of the famous stars may be hurting their children. Says the shrink:
“Maddox is an adopted child, so he already has a sense of abandonment. Kids that constantly move are like army brats, in that very often they don’t want to open up to people. They feel loss, and there is a problem with attachment…With the moves, the kids just don’t invest in relationships, because they’re going to lose them anyway. They think: ‘Why bother? I’m not gonna stick around. We’re gonna pick up and go, and the loss of friends is painful.’“
What a load of garbage. Even if this is true, certainly, certainly, certainly the life that Brad and Angelina can provide beats hanging around a third world country with a per capita income that’s almost 17 times smaller than the U.S.’s (as is Cambodia, where Maddox is from) or being dehydrated and suffering from malnutrition as Zahara was, when Angelina adopted her from Ethopia. Do I need to mention that she was orphaned by AIDS? No situation is perfect, and certainly we know that any child would be better off in some subdivided suburb away from the reality of the world. But the Brangelina clan have it pretty good (at least they get to see the world for their transient troubles!). If it’s a lesser evil, it’s an awfully cushy one. [New York Post]