Articles tagged with: Dad
This season of American Idol finishes quite soon, but it'll have to do so without the fire-eyed, slightly berserk stage dad Jeff Archuleta. Father of wimpy-looking namby-pamby American Idol favourite David Archuleta, Jeff Archuleta has reportedly been banned from American Idol's backstage area by producers after he kept urging his son to sing bits of other songs during a recent performance of Stand By Me. That's not all - Jeff Archuleta is also supposedly so pushy and all-controlling that he's made David Archuleta cry in the past. Really, who do these American Idol producers think they are? In 20 years when David Archuleta is living in a normal house instead of a creepy rundown fairground with a drinking problem and an obsession with the childhood that his father stole from him, it'll be them who'll be to blame. Them!
Mitch Winehouse, father of beehived bandit Amy, has told the News of the World that he wants his daughter to be sectioned. Just yesterday there were reports that Amy didn’t want her husband to come out of jail. What is it about this family that makes them want to incarcerate their closest relatives so much? Love? And by ‘mental’ home, we don’t mean it in the modern-youthful sense of the word (i.e. a ‘wicked-fun time’) as if the hospice was run by clowns who could heal patient’s injuries with heavy doses of laughter. We mean it in the traditional sense; the Syd Barrett sense; the Jon Bon Jovi sense.
It has been a truly rubbish week for Cameron Diaz. First her father Emilio dies suddenly of pneumonia at 58 years young - a truly traumatic experience that no daughter should have to go through. It’s in times like these we turn to the ones that love us the most for support; our family; our friends; our dashingly handsome Glaswegian boyfriend called Gerard Butler. Oh, no, wait - screw that last one, because it turns out he’s left her to mourn here alone. And as we cry away a river of pain, the uncaring media report sightings of him publicly tonguing some Z-list TV celebrity. Fucking men!
Lindsay Lohan’s tether has finally snapped and - thank almighty Christ - this time we aren’t talking about the tether which battles in vain each day to keep her knickers together. This is largely because hecklerspray, essentially, is a ‘news’ source; something which reports events that have at least a hint of ‘new’ about them; if we were talking about that particular tether ‘finally’ snapping you could get us on the Trades Description Act. Nope, this time the tether of Lindsay’s to which we refer is the one which has hitherto held the explosive rage she feels toward her father far back in the constraints of her mind.
It’s a predicament we’ve all faced, really.
You bring a newly-cremated loved one home and open up the urn, only to have some of the ashes spew onto the table. Dang it all. Now you have to go to the trouble of carefully sweeping the ashy vestiges of your great granny back in there using your pinky. Unless you’re Keith Richards. If you’re Keith Richards you daub up those ashes on your pinky and stick it up your nose hole and snort like you’ve never snorted before.
For reals this time, guys. This time he says he really did it for reals.
We know. You thought that all this kerfuffle about Britney Spears would die down now that has to spend the next fortnight locked up in a psychiatric hospital.
Chance'd be a fine thing. No, instead focus has shifted away from Britney Spears' well-being to all of Britney Spears' stuff. Yesterday in court effectively saw a fight between Britney and her Dad about whether or not he should be her conservator while she's banged up in the nuthouse. Turns out he can.
So now Jamie Spears is in charge of Britney's estate and finances, plus he'll also be legally obliged to shave his hair off, drink 20 Red Bulls a day and have his vagina on full display whenever he gets out of a car. Hey, we don't make the rules.
