Posts from May, 2008

Break out the overpriced Kabbalah water and whatever the hell it is that makes Madonna’s arm all veiny and crap - Madonna’s won her adoption case!

It’s been close to two years in the making, but today a Malawi court finally made Madonna’s adoption of her three-year-old Malawian son David Banda official. At last - now the courts are off her back, Madonna can finally force little David to work backbreaking chore-filled 21-hour days around the house without worrying that he’ll get taken away.

We’re just kidding. It’s disgusting to assume that Madonna only adopted a poor Malawian boy to use as a dirt-cheap houseboy. She did it because now she can go out and carry him around and everyone will look at him instead of noticing how weirdly immobile her face looks these days.

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Now that Lindsay Lohan’s had her tongue surgically grafted to the inside of Samantha Ronson’s ear, nobody seems too sure about how much of a lesbian she is.

But if anyone’s going to know all the intimate details of Lindsay Lohan’s new sapphic endeavours, it’s bound to be Michael Lohan - Lindsay’s born-again christian ex-convict of an absentee father. So tell us, Michael Lohan - is Lindsay Lohan a gigantic lesbian these days, or is she still big on penis?

What’s that? You originally said that Lindsay Lohan was a lesbian, but now you’re backtracking furiously because you secretly suspect that your big mouth is widening the gulf between you and your daughter and you’re trying to be as nondescript as possible to cover for the fact that Lindsay Lohan never tells you anything because you’re yet to regain her trust despite several attempts on your part? Why, that doesn’t help at all. Sheesh.

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This whole R Kelly child pornography trial has shot its wad a little early; maybe ’shot its wad’ is the wrong term - it’s piddled on a child’s face a little early. That’s better.

Anyway, our point is that the very first act of the R Kelly child pornography trial involved showing everyone the infamous alleged R Kelly sex tape. And since it’s physically impossible to top the sight of a full-grown man ordering a 13-year-old girl to wet her knickers to the sound of the Backstreet Boys, the trial’s got a little dull.

The most exciting thing that can happen now is seeing people try to identify the star of the tape. People like R Kelly’s former employee Lindsey Perryman, who turned up yesterday to say that not only is it R Kelly in the tape, but the female star is who everyone thinks it is because of the distinctive way she moves her mouth. We’ll finish writing this article as soon as we’ve stopped shuddering involuntarily.

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Hey, everyone! Get ready for the hecklerspray word of the day.

Today’s word: depressed. Adjective.

1. Sad, gloomy; dejected; downcast.

2. Being or measured below the standard or norm.

3. The reason you say you went to rehab, but everyone probably knows you’re a bit of a drunkard because there’s always loads of pictures of you stumbling out of clubs and parties pretty trashed.

Now, try to apply the correct definition to the following statement: Kirsten Dunst has publicly announced that her recent trip to rehab was because she was depressed.

And yes, the correct answer is ‘all of the above’.

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The American founding fathers put several days of blood, sweat and tears into freeing themselves from their British captors, and when they finally succeeded they didn’t even do anything that good to celebrate.

Sure, they erected a French statue that they got for free to commemorate something or other, but is that really so great? Seriously – Lady Liberty’s not even straddling anything. If Britain were to re-enslave the States today, and America re-revolutionary warred themselves into the ultimate democracy, all resulting commemorations would be infinitely better.

For example, any statue erected today might be of Naomi Campbell straddling a tank cannon like it was a longer, narrower Shetland pony. You know – exactly like the statue some mildly famous artist is apparently planning to build.

Other than that everything would be the same though.

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FROM DIETPIXIE - Tom Cruise has welcomed the recommencement of Victoria Beckham and Katie Holmes’ friendship, but only if the ‘d’ word is banned.

Yep, that’s right. Posh Spice and the better half of TomKat are forbidden to discuss diets, in case Katie ends up becoming as thin as Victoria.

TomKat are hoping to start babymaking in the near future, just like the Beckhams, and Tom is worried that Katie will become too obsessed with her diet and fitness regimes.

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As a celebrity, Sharon Stone knows that everything she says is ineffably correct - even if it’s clearly the most moronic thing that anyone has ever heard.

Like the Chinese earthquake, for example. Yes, it may have killed almost 70,000 people and forced the evacuation of another 15 million, but if Sharon Stone says it was caused by bad karma from China’s treatment of Tibet, then it’s obviously true. If anything, the Chinese people should be thanking Sharon Stone for her clearsighted understanding of the disaster.

But it isn’t. In fact, one Chinese cinema chain is so outraged by Sharon Stone’s karma comments that it’s decided to ban all her movies, depriving the Chinese people of surefire future blockbusters like Streets Of Blood and Five Dollars A Day. Maybe we should move to China.

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We’ve all been there.

You know the feeling: it’s a big night out and you want to dress to impress. But all your best clothes are in the laundry, and you can’t go out naked again - you always seem to draw all that nasty ‘police attention’, and besides, it’d be the third time this week. How you wish - oh, how you yearn and pray - that you could look like an overweight gangster who may or may not be dead and whose life neatly doubles up as a slow-burning metaphor for various aspects of American national identity.

Well … now you can!

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Any film that has the balls to cast the usually well-versed and impeccably attired Peter Bowles as a lumbering, foul-mouthed, pot-smoking, cockneyfied old timer deserves some credit.

Unfortunately he’s only in it for the first five or so minutes (he passes out amid a mist of intoxicating weed), and it’s therefore left for the younger likes of Phil Daniels, (ace in Quadrophenia) Gary Stretch (Dead Man’s Shoes) and co to carry the film to its mortal doom.

Freebird is a road movie of sorts that wants to be the British comedy answer to Dennis Hopper’s Easy Rider but doesn’t have the inspiration, charm or guts to carry any fleeting comparison to that vintage biker film.

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If there was ever a game that breaks your brain to pieces the first time you play it then suddenly gets much easier because you figured out the rules, then Tirwik is that game.

Tirwik’s rules are actually pretty easy - they just seem horribly complicated. So here goes: you have to form colour lines using boxes that change colour every time you select a line. This boxes are set in a 5×5 board and change from red to yellow, to green and then back to red. See? What could be easier? However, if you give Tirwik a go, the aim of the game is simple. It’s just that nobody can actually describe them very well.

Play Tirwick now

Like the title suggests, yet another high profile band is giving its music away for free. Not because it’s shit or anything, but purely down to the fact everyone else is doing so.

Sigur Ros creates some of the most amazing music known to man/woman/child/budgie. The epic vocals of singer Jonsi are totally unique and nothing like we’ve heard before. Combined with gorgeous fragile music that has the power to stop you in your tracks, the band is nothing short of amazing. Icelandic may not be the first language of everyone, but this does not matter at all - the songs sound better then they ever would do then if Chas & Dave were to give them the old cockney treatment.

Gobbledigook is taken from the bands fifth album Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust (With a buzz in our ears we play endlessly). The new record is set for release at the end of June and we can’t wait. If it’s anything like this song, it won’t disappoint. Oh, that buzz in your ears may be tinnitus. Best get it checked out.

Download Gobbledigook by Sigur Ros here

Amy Winehouse might look like a scab-covered drug addict on a misery-filled plunge into self-destruction, but really she’s just the new Sir Walter Raleigh.

It’s true - ask anyone from the 1570s what the big news of the day was and they’ll tell you it was Sir Walter Raleigh crawling round Camden on his hands and knees all shitfaced on Ketamine with a crazy Marge Simpson wig balanced precariously on top of his head. That’s why Amy Winehouse and Sir Walter Raleigh are so alike.

Oh, and also there’s a Cambridge University English paper asking students to compare Amy Winehouse’s lyrics to As You Came from the Holy Land by Sir Walter Raleigh. Students, here’s a clue - the one that breaks off in the middle to shout “Blakey! My BLAAAAAAAKE!” at nobody in particular probably isn’t Sir Walter Raleigh.

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