The Highbrow Lowdown

How NOT to be a starlet

2006-12-05T10:16:00.000-05:00

You know your career is going down the toilet when you're at a party and Will fucking Ferrell says to Leonardo DiCaprio, Ben Affleck and AL GORE "Who cares about that freak anymore anyway?"

Ferrell does with hyperbole what Vermeer did with oil paints or Vionnet did with draping fabric. He is the master. And this time, for once, he was dead fucking serious. And yet everyone laughed. It was defnitely one of those "it's funny because it's true" moments.

The incident in question involved a party for the GQ Men of the Year dinner at which Lohan saw her former assistant walk in with new assistee Jessica Biel. The former assistant quit working for Lohan. I can't speculate as to why...

Lohan's career is basically hanging on by a thread at this point. She's always in the tabloids, along with Paris Hilton, Nicole Richie, Britney Spears and Posh Spice. However, unlike the previous two, Lohan actually DOES something (acts, right?) and unlike the latter two, isn't a washed-up pop star.

The last movie she was in that performed decently was "Mean Girls" and that was almost three years ago. And that was only because Tina Fey wrote it and Rachel McAdams kicks ass. Her movie poster for "Just My Luck" that's supposed to show her winking actually looks like someone got it in her eye during a facial. I actually loathe Lohan's screen presence to the point where as much as I loved the rest of the persformers in "A Praire Home Companion" I didn't see it because of Lohan. Robert Altman died recently, and I consider it a cinematic tragedy that his last film starred her.

So what happened? This is a girl that barely eighteen months ago seemed to have everything. Now it seems like a lot of people would rather be a Mississippi truck-stop waitress on the graveyard shift than have this girl's life.

The first obvious answer is the drugs, booze and partying. It does irritate me that there seems to be a blatant double-standard in Hollywood, even in 2006. Colin Farrel is given plum roles despite his openness about his drinking, drug use and womanizing. And yet Tara Reid loses her career for getting shitfaced. Lindsay is called a "filthy whore" and "STD-ridden slut" for being a serial dater. That kind of thing just doesn't happen to guys.

Next is her weird weight and breast fluctuations. Witness...

This one was taken on May 2004. Real tits do not look like that. It seems she was just a bit too stoked about her new girls and didn't wait for them to drop before baring them in a tank top.

A year after that, not only are the tits gone, but so's a lot of the rest of her flesh. The implant removal must have been a Rachel Zoe directive, since fake d-cups are not couture boobs, darling.

And there have been variations in between since.

So she loves to stay out late and party, like a lot of people her age. But most people her age aren't earning millions and living in the Chateau Marmont. Since she has to know there's heat on her for her drinking, she's apparently in AA now. And she's still knocking them back. I guess the "one day at a time" mantra only seems to apply to procrastination in treating the alcohol problem.

Her movies not only don't make money anymore, they barely crack the top 10 when they open and disappear from the cineplex in less than a month. And it's not just the public that's caught on. She was famously and publicly torn a new one while filming "Georgia Rule" because the film company (her bosses, the ones that keep her in Chanel bags and blow) called bullshit on her claims of "exhaustion" that would surface nearly daily. I don't doubt that starlet stuff like press junkets, photo shoots, awards shows, appearances, interviews and all that stuff don't wear you down. Anyone that's ever has a "crazy week" or month, can attest to that. But you know what? If you're that tired, DON'T go to Hyde or Bungalow 8 literally every single night. Can you cut it down to two maybe?

And now she's having paranoid outbursts at parties and Will fucking Ferrell is calling her a freak in front of Al Gore.

If anyone out there is young and fame hungry, please feel free to follow Lindsay's blueprint. As a stellar example of just what not to do.

It seemed to work on Lindsay, so now I'm reaching out to Britney

2006-11-29T18:11:00.000-05:00

Britney? Hey, sweetie. Can I tear you away from Paris Hilton's man-hands death grip for a sec? Thanks hun.

Okay, you and I need to have a chat. Despite the one photo of Lindsay trying to elbow her way into yours and Paris's photo moment (hey, maybe Linds just needed a ride, since she's gotten into literally 4 car crashes in the last 18 months) I know that Paris proclaimed that "Firecrotch is no longer welcome". Alrighty.

So why are you trying your damndest to copy her? I know you're still smarting that "Crossroads" didn't get you nominated for that Academy Award or snag you a coveted invite to teach a master class at RADA. And I know you're really, really loving the fact that you finally dee-vorced that wigger sack of shit "rapper" husband of yours. Don't worry about him. I'm sure he'll knock up a German porn star for his next meal ticket. He'll be fine with his nasty Popozao self.

But the fact remains that you had two babies with him. Not just babies, but Irish motherfuckin' twins, born barely a year apart. The baby fat from SPF barely had a chance to melt away before Jayden (or the pop equivalent of Prince Harry) was a wee Federletus percolating in your Starbucks-soaked uterus.

You're a mother now. Now that's not to say to not be sexy of flaunt your bad self, but I think you jumped the gun on believing your own hype. You heard the word "comeback" being bandied about a bit too carelessly and perhaps got a bit breathless after a long two years of being sequestered in Malibu with the sexy Manny and Federline's fat beats and fat blunts.

Patience, Grasshopper.

Your lack of patience led you to procure a hasty polyester weave left over from a pimp and 'ho ball that made the back of your head look like the mangled genitals of the giant monster in "Predator". Not hot.

So what do you decide to do to class up your image now that you're a free woman with a comeback to plot? Well you hang out with the classiest lass around, Paris Hilton!

Bitch, are you out of your goddamn mind? I think if you put her in a lineup with Idi Amin, Pinochet and Dr. Mengele, she still might be one of the first people sent to die by the will of the people.

And you know she thinks you're fat. Oh yes she does.

You DO look better than you did a year or two ago. No question. But darling, you are nowhere near back to the bod you had in the "Toxic" video, the one where you could pick a random body part and bounce quarters off it. Tits included, but that's neither here nor there.

That body was the best thing you had going for you. Let's not try to argue by mentioning masterful Swedish hitmakers or how your voice "matured" and your music "matured" along with it because Pharell worked on your record to pay off Jacob the Jeweler. That shit was straight up Autotuned to within an inch of its life and my cat's asshole could carry a tune better, while taking a shit.

We know you miss the spotlight. For a little girl from a small town in Louisiana to become one of the biggest-selling female pop acts of all time...well, it can't be easy to be washed up at an age when most people your age are just starting to get their lives going.

So I repeat to you the words I spoke to the one they call Firecrotch. STOP FLASHING YOUR DAMN COOTER! At least Lindsay was smart enough to spread it out a bit (pun totally intended) over a few months, but you had something like one cooter flash a day for the last week straight! Vagina's are beautiful and they're all different, but I don't want to be able to trace out your gnarly C-section scar while wondering if your vaginal flora seems a little out of whack and you might be in need of some Monistat. I won't even bother posting pics of this since I'm sure you're aching to remove the images from the recesses of your brain and some of you may be contemplating suing Britney for increased therapy bills, with Paris as a co-defendant.

I asked Lindsay in my recent open letter to her if Audrey Hepburn would allow herself to be photographed with her vajay-jay exposed. I pose a similar question to you.

Would Barbra Streisand have allowed her coochie to be photographed? Actually, there is a longstanding rumor that she was in a grainy porno before she hit it big, so she actually might have.

Ok, would Liza Minelli go around flashing her ladybits? Now that I think about it, that bitch was on so much blow in the 70's that her trips to Studio 54 alone might have caused a premature and embarassing vaginal prolapse.

Debbie Harry was damn sexy, but she...oh wait, she had some early "art photos" when she was young, hot and broke in Playboy.

Alright then! Would MADONNA allow her...oh who the fuck am I kidding with that one?

Go ahead and air it out all you want. Apparently in this case you're in good company.

Two losers that no one cares about, and then the has-been chimes in...

2006-11-22T07:25:00.000-05:00

I hate "American Idol" and I haven't watched Regis since he was with Kathie Lee and only then because I had mono and my liver would have exploded if I reached over for the remote to change the channel.

So it warms the cockles of my heart to no end to see that it's currently a major news story that "Reege" took the day off and none other than Season 2 Number 2 (and inevitably bound to be outed kicking and screaming) "AI" guy Clay Aiken took over hosting with insufferable "Tide to Go" spokeswhore Kelly Ripa. The two got into it when Aiken had the audacity to put his filthy closeted hand over Ripa's drivel-spewing mouth.

She's very indignant about this "lack of respect" thing. I'm indignant about the fact that this made the news. Nationally.

And this is where the has-been comes in. Rosie O'Donnell decides to chime in on her equally useless show "The View" that because Ripa "quipped" that she didn't know where Aiken's hand had been, that KELLY RIPA IS A HOMOPHOBE!!!!!!

I can't embed this particular video, but here's the URL to Rosie's tirade:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CuSOMY2Wv6g

First of all, we don't know where anyone's hand has been. And for the most part we probably don't want to know. Maybe Kelly could have swiped some Tide to Go all over Clay's hand while bellowing an a-capella "(Hey, Hey, Hey) Kiss Him Goodbye".

But for Rosie O'Donnell of all people to get so mad about this irritates the living hell out of me. This is a woman who had a huge talk show for years and made millions upon millions off of it, based on the affections of a Middle America that thought her bizarre crush on "Tommy" was just so gosh darn adorable! "Tommy", as in "Master of All Things Psychiatric and Slayer of Xenu" Cruise. She quits her show, is deigned to be photographed in public with her girlfriend and their children and now all of a sudden she's Super Dyke, savior of oppressed homosexuals everywhere.

Is it ironic that I care about this only because I'm stunned that so many other people apparently give a shit? Or is this all manufactured drama that even the news barely cares about because Darfur is just too gosh-darn depressing and, like, soooooo four months ago?

This was a sign!

2006-11-20T23:03:00.000-05:00

Kramer best not venture above 96th St. in NYC, even in this outfit...

An open letter to Lindsay Lohan (and her vagina)

2006-11-18T20:11:00.000-05:00

Okay sweetie, have a seat for while. Put away the vodka for one second; that next bump can wait until we're done giving you a good talking-to.

First of all, I know Brandon Davis is an asshole. We all know that he's hurtling towards Fat Elvis territory at Mach 7 and appears to slather himself in whatever falls out of the grease traps at Waffle Houses nation-wide. And he fucked Paris Hilton. The latter alone would just make him male on either coast, but her chimpy sniggering and egging you on to call you the now-immortal "Firecrotch" was just a sign of how these two wastes of space belong together.

That being said, STOP FLASHING YOUR COOTER! I know Brandon called you "poor" because you have a piddly $7 million dollars, much of which you seem to have blown living in the "motel" that is the Chateau Marmont. Why would you want to buy, you know, property with that money? You're barely 20 and a huge star! Of course all this fame and money's gonna last forever! Especially with your increasingly stellar and glittering reputation on-set as a true professional who only shows up late to the set daily because your coke stash apparently looks an awful lot like your asthma inhaler.

So yes, until you're making $20 million a film like Cameron Diaz, you will be forced to subsist on $7 million dollars. It's hard, I know. You do the best you can to get by, scrambling to make excuses as to how you forgot your credit card, again, when they actually have the audacity to bill you for the 12 bottles of Grey Goose you and your entourage of 47 consume at Bungalow 8 about five times a week. Because even the lord rested on the 7th day and even though one of your ginormous designer purses was right next to your ass at the banquette, you couldn't be bothered to fish your AmEx Black card out because you, like, totally forgot it back at your suite anyway.

It's hard, I know. But for the love of God, buy some panties! There's nothing wrong with going commando once in a while. I do it, but I save it for when I'm wearing pants. Maybe the first time it happened you were getting dressed in a hurry due to your hectic starlet schedule, and the paparazzi snapped a photo of an apparently very thorough Brazilian as you stepped out the limo but before you really had a chance to feel a draft. Or maybe you didn't forget the panties, since the easy breezy shot was coincidentally taken a few days after Brandon Davis' "Firecrotch" tirade. Yes, we saw there was no fire, just crotch. Brandon Davis is a dick, and flashing your bald vagina proved it.

However...then came the Venice Film Festival. And once again, you forgot to put on panties. But again, we saw that you're quite thorough with your grooming.

And then just this past week...well, the short version is: LA, limo, crotch shot.

Again, I know it's hard subsisting on a piddly seven mil. I know they don't sell lingerie at the Chanel store on 57th Street and the La Perla store is, like, so far away down in the Meatpacking District and it's like right next to Lotus which is, like, such a B&T haven. But you need to set aside a certain amount in your budget for some panties. It might mean an ounce or two less of blow, but growing up is all about making sacrifices, darling. And you are apparently growing up, since it's not illegal to splash your exposed genitals all over the internet. La Perla even makes a secondary line called Malizia that's actually quite attractive. You could even be a bit cheeky and commission an artist to airbrush an abstract Burning Bush on the crotch of some simple Hanro white cotton panties! Get photographed flashing that, and your street cred will increase almost as much as if you played a meth-addled truck stop hooker in an edgy indie film.

So darling, we're on your side. We adore you, even though you're hideously, hideously overexposed. But it's not your fault that you love the overpriced and crappy food at paparazzi Base Camp "The Ivy" in LA. It's not your fault that all the clubs with all the rilly good 80's music-playing DJ's have so many damn photographers outside. They DO have some great shopping on Robertson Boulevard. But darling, that's besides the point.

Next time you venture out into the big, bad scary world, as you're getting dressed, ask yourself just one simple question: would Audrey Hepburn have let her twat be photographed? Multiple times? Are you having a moment of clarity yet? Good. Now run with it.

The new Playstation 3 is out. Now get a fucking life.

2006-11-17T07:28:00.000-05:00

Around midnight today, the brand new Playstation 3 went on sale.

In Los Angeles, the nexus of the end of civilization, some people camped out for three days to be able to get into their local Best Buy and snap one up.

This to me makes absolutely no sense. What kind of person (adults mostly, mind you) camps outside of a big-box store for three days to get a goddamn video game console? If they have the kind of job where they can take three days off without any consequences, they're either a busboy at Applebee's and got someone to switch shifts with them (and in all likelihood their rent and utility bill will also be a bit late after buying the Playstation) or they're the VP of a major conglomerate, in which case they could pay someone to camp out for them.

So basically these people are all losers.

Now it's great to be passionate about something, but about a video game console that's gonna be obsolete in 18 months and will likely wind up either being sold in a garage sale for a dollar or taking a few million years to decompose and seep into the groundwater after it's chucked into a landfill? Are our lives really that empty? Apparently so.

I camped out once. It was in DC to have Bill Clinton sign a copy of his autobiography. My friend J and I took the train out before the sun came up, got to DC at about 5:30 AM and we were still about the 200th people in line. We shared a pillow I brought and we slept on the street, napping intermittently until about noon, when the line finally started moving.

So yes, I have camped out once. But it was for about seven hours and it was to meet a fucking ex-president.

I used to love my Nintendo when I was a kid, and I'm totally amazed watching some of the graphics I see when I hang out with people with X-Boxes and shit like that. No one can sit around all day sipping Darjeeling while thoughtfully leafing through "Harper's", but for fuck's sake, you can't wait another few weeks to buy it rather than forcing yourself to choose between being a trampler or a tramplee by needing to be the first person in your apartment complex to have it?

Witness the insanity here:

I looooooove the guy pleading "Where's the line?"

The line to what? Pick your own circle of hell.

Is Ron Livingston our generation's Bill Pullman?

2006-11-15T18:49:00.000-05:00

Ron Livingston, AKA "Berger" from "Sex and the City" or the guy in "Office Space" is doing ads for Sprint now. Maybe in and of itself that's not that big of a deal, since Catherine Zeta-Jones was doing T-Mobile ads. However, Ron Livingston has never won an Oscar nor attained A-list status. And I'm also pretty certain Ron Livingston isn't married to a creepy older dude.

"Office Space" is a pretty big cult movie for people in the their 20's and 30's. It was full of cringe-inducing moments that really highlighted the banalities of most people's lives nowadays. Then he was "Berger", but "SATC" was always about the girls anyway. He got buzz for being in "Band of Brothers", I think.

And theirein lies the rub. There's been so much buzz around Ron Livingston for the last several years that you'd think he was a beekeeper. Yet he's never really been able to jump up to that next rung on the Hollywood ladder. Unlike Sam Rockwell (another much buzzed-about but never quite gotten there actor) he's generally considered conventionally handsome in a rugged, 40's movie star kind of way. And it seems that he is actually a good actor. So those factors combined with buzz should generally equal big roles being thrown his way, but that just doesn't seem to be happening.

Hence the Bill Pullman analogy. He did supporting roles in some pretty big movies in the 80's and was on the cusp of being a movie star in the 90's when he...well, just did more supporting roles in big movies. He played the President in "Independence Day" and some people thought he was going to finally blow up then. But he played nebbishy fiancees with weird allergies and second banana to Alec Baldwin instead. The guy's still working, but again, despite having the looks, talent and early buzz just never really got as famous as it might have seemed he was going to.

But maybe there's still hope for Ron Livingston just yet. There are tons of actors who leapt out from the starting gate then stayed in the race while trailing a bit but came out ahead in the end.

I just can't really remember who any of them might be at this particular moment.

A welcome, and what to expect

2006-11-10T08:20:00.000-05:00

Hi kids...I'm here to talk shit and talk gossip with other smart people. The tabloid and celebrity craze is getting as utterly out of hand as it is addictive. When you're too smart for your own good (or suffer from an astonishing lack of modesty) sometimes a little intentional stupidy is just the ticket for slowing things down a bit.

So who are you, fair reader?

Well, you enjoy watching "Project Runway" but also watch "Frontline" on PBS once in a while.

You listen to CAN and Regina Spektor but you love Duran Duran and even listen to Heart once in a while. Their cheesy 80's stuff, NOT the rocking 70's "Magic Man"/"Barracuda" era music (although you like that too).

You read "The Economist", "The Guardian" and "Black Book" but you also read "Us" and "OK!". But you only buy the latter to read on planes, right?

You make fun of other people's hideous fashion choices, but you're not afraid to occasinally wear things that are kind of hideous yourself, just because you really fucking like them.

You have a rather large vocabulary, and yet you relish the simple pleasure of a well-placed F-bomb.

You enjoy Almodovar and John Hughes in equal measure, depending on your mood.

If any of these sound like you, embrace it. Revel in your cultural hypocrisy and join me on a hedonistic romp through the utter ridiculousness that surrounds us and takes our minds off of the serious things we spend too much time thinking about.

You'll read about celebrity breakups, fashion faux-pas and eating disorders interjected with the occasional social commentary. Just enough of each to keep your brain from turning into Swiss cheese from lack of stimuli, but not so much that the denseness makes your head explode.

Lines will likely be crossed and the easily offended should not apply. And once we weed the dullards and pussies out, we'll have a lot of fun.

More to come, soon. Promise...