Article Archive for November 2006
Danny DeVito might just be our favourite man of all-time. If it wasn't enough that Danny DeVito was in Taxi and directed Throw Momma From The Train and Matilda - the best Roald Dahl remake ever - he also lurches about apparently drunk on daytime TV.
At the moment Danny DeVito is doing his darndest to promote Deck The Halls, a rubbish looking film about some Christmas lights. It's just that his methods of doing it are slightly unusual. Yesterday Danny DeVito went on daytime TV show The View direct from a party with George Clooney and gave a virtuoso performance in dishevelled weirdness, rambling on incomprehensibly about the movie, sitting on Rosie O'Donnell's knee and calling George Bush a) something that was bleeped out and b) "The guy who eb eb eb eb eb eb eb eb eb eb eb eb wuh wuh wuh wuh wuh wuh wuh wuh wuh wuh ung ung ung ung ung." Danny DeVito has since phoned The View bigwig Barbara Walters to apologise, although it seems strange that anyone would want to apologise for the finest six minutes of television since the dawn of man.
Over the last few months - or however long we’ve been doing this feature - we’re sure you’ll all agree that we’ve opened up your lugholes to some fantastic sounds that you never thought existed.
While you're all busy watching shite karaoke programmes like X Factor where you idolise over someone for a few months before discarding him like last night's takeaway, we literally produce litres of blood, sweat and tears to bring you stuff that will blow your little mind away. Literally. This week we think we’ve found the most extreme and out-there sound around. Before we tell you the name of the act for this week's trawl, we have to revisit two previous artists featured so you can begin to imagine what your about to be listening to. In the very beginning, we introduced you to Glasgow two-piece Gay Against You. They took the style of breakcore, powerpop and stuff that sounded like they belonged on Gameboys. Basically it was crazy and unique. Another act we looked at was the mentalist sound of Cutting Pink With Knives. This blew open the genre doors for most of you as we entered the world of grindcore. Fast furious guitars with equally fast vocals. This week’s band combines both features of the two bands we just mentioned. Say hello to Drumcorps.
There was a time when the promise of a glimpse of Britney Spears' waxed wookie would have created enough male hormones to power a small village; but now we've all seen Britney's tumpsy, and we'd quite like her to put it away please.
Now that Britney Spears is young free and single again, it's been her mission to show Kevin Federline what he's missing. Literally what he's missing. In graphic detail. Three times. If you're not sure what we're going on about, Britney Spears has been photographed getting out of cars without any knickers three separate times over the last week now, and people are getting so sick of gawping at Britney Spears' bare bajingo that they're flooding her MySpace page with messages along the lines of "My eyes!! What have you done to my eyes??? Britney, nobody wants to see your shonky mimsy any more!!"
Imagine if Tinky Winky one day looked around him, saw Laa-Laa idly flicking some Tubby Tustard around the Tubbytronic Superdome and Dipsy torturing Noo-Noo the sentient hoover, stood up and said "Screw you bell-ends, I'm going solo."
Well, that's what has kind of happened with The Wiggles. The Wiggles are like Australia's version of The Teletubbies, except that they're actual men instead of freakish colourful monsters and they're richer than just about anyone you care to think of. Anyway, yesterday Yellow Wiggle - Greg Page - dramatically quit The Wiggles, though not because of creative differences. In fact Greg Page quit The Wiggles because he suffers from orthostatic intolerance, a rare disorder that leaves him constantly fatigued and liable to collapse without warning, which ironically tends to be Purple Wiggle's schtick.
Moses had a people to lead. He walked 'em through the desert, turned a river into blood, and sent frogs to run up people's loose-fitting bottomless Egyptian skivvies.
Andrew Jackson led people by sending the army to march them barefoot and tattered to the barren American mid-west, minutes before said people were intending to start dinner. What we're getting at here is leaders throughout history have demonstrated unique and distinctive boss-people-around type styles. Jesse Jackson is no different. His current method of choice is to wreak havoc on Seinfeld season 7's holiday DVD sales.
Welcome to hell, Jerry, welcome to hell.
Nicole Kidman needs cheering up. Her old husband has staged the creepiest wedding in history, her new husband is in rehab for drinking way too much and people won't stop openly wondering if she's got a baby in her belly.
So let's cheer Nicole Kidman up. Nicole Kidman, you may have worse taste in men than Nicole Brown Simpson and not have made a genuinely decent film for five years, but at least you're filthy stinking rich. Nicole Kidman has been named by the Hollywood Reporter as the highest-paid actress in all of Hollywood, for her ability to take home up to $17 million for each film she stars in. And good for Nicole Kidman; not only is she one of our finest actresses but all this money means that she won't be need to make any more Chanel adverts that make us want to claw our eyes out every time we see them.
Sometimes we feature Slackerjacks because of their irresistible gameplay or bold new approach to the online game oeuvre. Sometimes, though, we just feature games because their names sound a bit porny.
And that's where we introduce you to today's Slackerjack - Astral Masters. Not to be confused with seminal decade-old Ron Jeremy-starring Ass Masters series of dirty pornos, Astral Masters is either a ...
OK, there's no easy way of telling you this - we have some good news and some bad news. First the good news; pint-sized, pissed-up, voice of an angel turned failed popstar Charlotte Church has announced that she's quitting music.
And now for the bad news. Instead of spending all her new free doing something useful, like arm-wrestling bears for control of the woods or burning all of her weirdly tidy boyfriend's hairbands, Charlotte Church is doing the one thing we didn't want her to do. That's right - Charlotte Church has quit music to pursue her dreadful television presenting career. But the bad news isn't as bad as you think, because if Charlotte Church really has quit music then hopefully she won't be doing those scalp-tearingly harrowing opera duets with Nelly Furtado at the end of her show any more.
