Tag Archives: friend

Third Time’s The Charm: Latest NYT Patterson Bombshell Really Explodes [Bombshells]

Well! New York Times exposes on Gov. David Paterson are like Godfather movies: They come in threes. But unlike Copolla, The New York Times saved the best for last. Hypocrisy? violence against women? Abuse of power? It’s all here. Damn. Where to begin? How about with the brutal Halloween beating David W. Johnson , Paterson’s 6-foot-7 driver and closest confidant , allegedly gave an ex-girlfriend last year. From the Times article : According to the woman’s account, Mr. Johnson confronted her in their bedroom, choked her, tore her Halloween costume off, pushed her into the dresser and then continued to choke her with one hand. In her account, she screamed for Mr. Johnson to stop and then screamed for the help of a friend who was visiting. The woman said Mr. Johnson first took one telephone from her to prevent her from calling the police, and then chased her into another room when she went to find a second phone. Mr. Johnson then turned to the woman’s friend and told her to leave, “if you know what’s good for you,” according to the woman’s account. After this altercation, the woman says she was pressured by the State Police into not pressing charges. The State Police confirm contacting her. Oh, and not just any State Police: A member of the special detail which protects the governor—and David W. Johnson. The head of the state police told the Times “We never pressured her… we just gave her options.” Still, according to the Times the woman pressed forward with her charges against her high-profile ex. Until this February, when she got a call from Paterson himself. (Paterson claims the woman initiated the call.) She didn’t show up for her next hearing, and the case was dropped. What to make of this episode? The Times will not tell you, since they are a serious newspaper and print “just the facts.” But the article leaves exactly the right blanks to fill in with a clear case of Paterson using the State Police as his own private Statsi to make a violent problem go away for his sketchy best friend. For example, the Times notes the fact that the timing of Paterson’s call puts it right as the paper was preparing their earlier, less incriminating profile of Johnson and his past trouble with women and drugs. Hmmm… And the article repeatedly mentions that the State Police—Paterson’s police—visited the woman despite the assault being under NYPD’s jurisdiction. Hmmmmm…. Oh, and after the Times visited the woman’s house, Paterson got upset about it during a meeting with the editorial board. Uh huh… Whether it was intentional or not, we have to admire the way the three Times Paterson scoops build on each other to create the perfect Portrait of the Governor as a Real Asshole: In the first installment , we learn of Paterson’s girlfriend-beating trouble magnet aide, David W. Johnson. Maybe Paterson doesn’t have the best character judgment, we think with a shrug. The second article reveals that Paterson pays for his vacations with campaign cash and gives his friend’s ex-girlfriend a job. OK, so he has a little thing with using the power of his office to make things happen for himself and his buddies—paying for vacations with campaign cash and giving his friend’s ex-girlfriend a job in his administration. Small things, but still… Uh oh… Then: Boom. Three articles full of interesting facts. Three is also the number of sides of a triangle. Let’s triangulate.

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Third Time’s The Charm: Latest NYT Patterson Bombshell Really Explodes [Bombshells]

American Idol: Those of Us About to Die Salute You

You know what’s so nice about American Idol ? It really respects our time. As a thank you to its loyal viewers, the show has gotten so efficient! Like, last night’s broadcast was two hours, and we learned seven whole things. Yes, seven things! Last night was the episode where everyone gets put in Rooms of Shame or Ecstasy and has to nervously wait for the four judges to come in and pretend to be sad. All the desperate singtestants are forced to sit on the floor, because they are not worthy of chairs, and then Kara comes in and does her best approximation of human facial expressions and tells them that their dreams are either over or going to be over very, very soon. When I came trudging home in the ice from a friend’s house, where I was watching Lorst and eating far too many Triscuits, I sat down to watch Idol and my lover, D.V. Arr, told me that there were two whole hours to watch before I could go to bed and let visions of sugarplum Weirs skate through my head. TWO HOURS. During the second week of Hollywood Week. So, I kind of expected a lot to happen, because I am too trusting and give away my heart too quickly. But, of course, Idol spent most of the time dicking around with needless recaps of last week and lots of Ryan talking about pressure cookers and corkers and all other manner of terms for stressful things. And in the end, we learned the identities of only seven of our 24 semifinalists. In two hours. Again, TWO HOURS. Seven people. Oh, sure, we found out about some losers too. The girl with the damaged nerves in her face? Better luck next time. Simon muttered that it was the wrong decision, and she seemed pretty good in the singing clips they showed, so that’s too bad. Maybe next year. Though why these people keep coming back after being shamed, I do not know. The heart wants what it wants, I suppose. Um… who else didn’t get in? Oh, yeah, the crazy girl in the video above. She was on last season and was wearing just normal clothes, a simple button-down and dungarees, at her audition and she seemed nice and humble. She seemed normal enough during this go-around too, staying nerdily in the background mostly, but when she was told that it was the end of the line? Plain Jane went nertz. She kept talking about how they had “no idea” what she could do. None whatsoever! It’s not as if she’d just spent a week singing for them and had done similarly a year prior. No, the judges had absolutely no idea. See, she’d lost her voice during group day, so that’s what it was. Her group totally f’ed her over by reaching their gnarled talons down her throat and stealing her voice, or something like that. Guys, you have no idea. No one has any idea. She has no idea what she can do. No idea. Not a clue. I figure now she must be done with the show for good. I mean, can you really get into an awkward, sad yelling fit in front of Ellen DeGeneres and expect to have a good shot at the majors next season? I mean, sure, maybe you can. It’s this show, after all. If you beat Charlie Rose at jai alai one time, you cannot expect to ever be a guest on his show ever again. If you throw Bonnie Hunt down a flight of stairs while taping an interview, that’s pretty much it. Same goes for hurling a Brother sewing machine at Tim Gunn’s head. But on Idol ? Oh, you can just about do whatever you want and they’ll take you back, mostly because you are crazy and interesting. Hey why not just up and stab Randy Jackson. He’ll stand there chuckling, McDonald’s parfait dribbling out of the wound, and say “Ha ha dawg, come back next year.” So maybe the Nutty Nerd will be back. I suppose we’ll just have to watch next year to find out. (None of us are watching next year, right?) So who went through. Well, Michael Clarke Duncan from The Green Mile did, so good for him and his new beebee. Also good for some girl with curly blonde hair who will be smirked at with condescending horniness by Simon all season and will eventually do a sad segue into country music. She’s basically Kelli Pickler, and Simon hopes to pickle her. We should all be very proud of your cousin Ricky, you know Aunt Cheryl’s kid from upstate, who landed in the top 24 even though we’d never seen him before. Mostly he seemed like an awkward cross between Danny Gokey, Kris Allen, and a beetle. Same vaguely beardy puffy face features as Gokey, same easy-breezy troubadour stylings of Kris, same buggy skitteriness of the things that go scattering when you overturn a big rock. He seemed arrogant about his chances, but then in the sit-down they all said that he didn’t seem confident, so who knows what the hell was up. The few singing clips we saw didn’t really seem all that impressive, but I trust the judging and producing staff that gave the world Kevin Covais to only advance the best. Speaking of Covais, yet another squirrely ‘n nerdy young man has been offered up to America. I forget his name, but he’s the one that sang “The Climb” at his initial audition. Do you know what “The Climb” is? It is a song by Milly Sirrus, and it was featured in her movie about Hannah Montana called The Hannah Montana Movie. In that movie, which is about Hannah Montana, Milly goes to a farm with her mom Billy Ray, played by the redoubtable Billie Jean King, and learns important lessons about being nice to old ladies and how to find hay-blonde farmboys attractive (this is a very hard thing to do!). Anyway, Hanna Montana sings this song at the end, to prove that she’s learned so many lessons and come so far, and everyone cheers. (GUYS, I SAW THIS MOVIE.) So then a teenage boy went on a nationally-watched reality show and sang that song. Ha. Heh heh heh. Anyway, the kid is like twelve years old and I’m sure some swirly-girlies will eat that shit up (“He’s so sensitive and stares at Ryan Seacrest almost as much as we do!!”). Unless those other teendreams, Shaggy and More Shaggy, get through. Then old Morty Cyrus over here is screwed. Angela Martin, who I like and feel bad for , got through the Torment of Rooms, but we do not know her fate beyond that. Hopefully she will make it. That Raspy girl from last week who was all annoying and bossy was in the room that they doused with gasoline and lit ablaze, Kara wedging a chair under the door handle to keep everyone in. Too bad for her. I think she is 29, so that’s the end of the line for her. Good thing all that bitching paid off! That blonde girl who is basically Brooke White made it through, so good for her. Still no word on the fate of Yellow Teef, but dear god we saw her again, and her teef aren’t even yellow. They are a russet potato brown. I feel like she’s been drinking chicory or root juice or something. Is she Inman from Cold Mountain ? I think she is Inman from Cold Mountain . Ellen is her Ada. Which makes Randy the guy Ethan Suplee played in the movie and Simon is Kathy Baker. That works. But whatever, she’s a really good sanger and if she makes it through, hopefully someone will take her aside and tell her about teef bleaching. It’s a fixable problem! You know who’s a funny story? That Shirtless Guy. You know, the one who Kara made strip at the audition? We all thought he was some dumb oaf-faced gimmick. But he’s not! He’s actually got singerly chops and now he’s in the voting pool and I’m sure the ladies will vote for him alllll nite longgggg. And by “ladies” I mean Ryan Seacrest in a wig, guzzling Cavit pino grigio straight from the bottle, weeping and clutching his phone and saying “Iloveyou, Iloveyou, I loveyou…” in shuddering, wet spurts over and over again. “What’d you do last night,” a staffer will ask him the next morning. “Not much, nothing, turned in early,” he’ll reply with practiced nonchalance. The staffer will frown in a pitying, concerned way. They’ll lower their voice and say “Ryan, honey, you’re still wearing your voting wig.” Did any of your favorites make it through? Does anyone have any favorites? Egghead Latino, who will get verrrryyyyy far, has not been asked to come to America’s loneliest prom yet, but he will be tonight. You can take that to the bank. Oh, and, while you’re at it, do you use TD Bank? Great, take this sack of loose change to that that coin machine and bring me back the cash. And by “sack of loose change” I mean Kara. There’s not much else to say. For two hours of Entertainment, that’s all there was to talk about. Some tears, some cheers, some warm lonely beers, Ryan sitting on the roof, staring out at the goofy LA smog. He takes a pull and swallows it heavily, letting out a weary sigh-burp. “Oh Kevin,” he says quietly. “Kevin Covais.” A thick breeze sweeps up and turns his tie into a windsock, makes his unblinking eyes water. And he feels terribly sad, and terribly small. But then he hears a noise behind him, he turns, and it is Shirtless Guy, brandishing his guitar, humming something warm and familiar. Traffic roars, buildings breathe and bend. Ryan stares at Shirtless Guy and reaches his hand into his jacket pocket. He feels the synthetic honey-blonde curls of the voting wig. “Soon my friend,” his whispers. “Soon.” But not soon enough.

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American Idol: Those of Us About to Die Salute You

How Not to Be a Foursquare Jackass

The ideal tool for robbery has apparently become Foursquare, the iPhone app for sharing your whereabouts with your 900 closest friends. And your least discreet buddy might be in league with the thieves. Here’s how to avoid being that friend. The new website PleaseRobMe.com is designed to illustrate the criminal potential of Foursquare. It shows Foursquare users tweeting the fact that they are no longer at home, and thus that their valuables are potentially vulnerable to thieves. The site has certainly gotten people’s attention . What’s especially scary is that even if you are careful about broadcasting your location, your “friends” can still screw up your security. We’ll explain below, and throw out some other important “Don’ts” for this latest social networking technology to finally reach your most annoying buddies: Don’t check in from a friends house : We realize you want to brag about the party you’re at, or maybe are desperate to enliven it with some fresh blood. But do not do this, because it means giving up their address, and if your friend ever tweets about being on vacation, the savvy thieves will know exactly who to burgle next. As PleaseRobMe puts it ( via Agency Spy ), “Now you know what to do when people reach for their phone as soon as they enter your home. That’s right, slap them across the face.” Don’t check in from work : This is annoying and pointless. Your friends know where you work. And your public is not impressed that you’re gainfully employed. Some people think it’s fun to try and become “mayor” of the office, i.e. the person who is there the most hours. (We’re looking at you, CNET.) But becoming mayor of the office just telegraphs, “I have an utterly perverse definition of ‘accomplishment.'” (Possible exception: If you work at Foursquare like these guys at left, via Scott Beale .) Don’t become Foursquare friends with pure Facebook ‘friends: ‘ We first saw this tip on the website Old Media New Tricks, and it’s especially relevant when you start thinking about crime. If you only “know” someone through Facebook or Twitter, they shouldn’t have access to your location. Your contact might look like a sexy young thing in a bikini on Facebook; in real life you might be dealing with a nasty ex-con looking for leads for his next big score — including any data you share about your real-life buddies. Don’t get all anxious about who Foursquare friends you : As former Valleywag Nick Douglas wrote in 2008 about the similar service Dodgeball , this sort of social networking can get overwhelming fast, in part because of the physical aspect. “One night, two people Dodgeballing from a bar drew a crowd of thirty,” he wrote. “And god did the parties get awkward when one person realized they were the only one not getting a text message when their friend walked in the room.” The instinctive reaction to this sort of social tidal wave is to retreat. So if someone unfriends you, or doesn’t accept your invite in the first place, get over it. (Top pic: Foursquare and Dodgeball creator Dennis Crowley, via his Flickr ; robber pic by Eben Bleep ; Foursquare office by Scott Beale on Flickr )

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How Not to Be a Foursquare Jackass

Adam Lambert Shows Love for Ke$ha, Anna Kendrick, Hairspray

A day after famously telling an audience member to get off her cell phone during a concert, Adam Lambert spoke to E! News. The singer didn’t feel like reliving the incident – which has mostly earned him props from those that admire his boldness and hate on cell phone abusers – but he did touch on a number of other topics. To wit: His favorite artists right now : “Ke$ha’s CD is really fantastic for getting ready. Always Goldfrapp. Always, always, always. Mike Snow is a great album to get ready to.” His most-used hair products : “Oh man, I’ve lost count. And I got really overwhelmed, too, because it’s cold and it’s hot and it’s dry. I’m like oh, moisturizer! Oh hairspray! Just hairspray is my friend in general, especially in this weather.” A sexy celebrity : “Anna Kendrick.” For someone that likes men, he sure has good taste in women. The Twilight Saga and Up in the Air star is an absolute cutie. Lambert added that he has no plans to go on tour and hasn’t watched any of American Idol this season yet. That’s too bad because semifinalist Todrick Hall appears to have some of Adam’s unique style in him, as evidenced by his take on “I’m Yours” in Hollywood at least. He still have a VERY long way to go until he’s in Lambert’s league, of course.

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Adam Lambert Shows Love for Ke$ha, Anna Kendrick, Hairspray

Ex-Husband of Vienna Girardi to Jake Pavelka: Run!

Sgt. Josh Riley, former husband of The Bachelor hopeful Vienna Girardi, says Jake Pavelka shouldn’t make the same mistake he did and trust that vixen. Riley, who was married to the abrasive, annoying 23-year-old blonde for 10 months, is now revealing what he calls her lying, cheating and stealing ways. Not only is Vienna Girardi a pathological liar – “It was hard to know what was true and what wasn’t,” – the Marine says she cheated while he was in Iraq. It gets worse. Josh says Vienna’s most shocking move came during their separation, when she slept with his friend and drained their joint bank account. If Bachelor spoilers are to be believed, Jake Pavelka is f*%ked! “He lived in a trailer next to mine. One of his housemates told me, ‘Hey, man, I don’t know if you know, but the ol’ boy had sex with your wife!’” Riley said . “A month later, my friend admitted to me that it was true.” Josh also said that, while in Kuwait, Vienna secretly removed $5,000 from their joint checking account that she later used to fund breast enhancement surgery. “I can’t believe I actually paid for her boob job!” a shocked Sgt. Riley said. Now remarried with a 15-month-old son, Riley has a warning for Jake Pavelka , who has made Vienna one of the final three girls standing this season. “I would advise him to run as fast as he can, but it might be too late,” he says. “If he has any plans of marrying her, he should know she cheated on me, stole my money and even got me in trouble with the military with her big mouth.”

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Ex-Husband of Vienna Girardi to Jake Pavelka: Run!

The Real World: A Truly Detestable Detente

Of all the peace accords in all the world, the most inane was made between two warring factions in a house at 2000 S St, NW. Here is transcript from their negotiations as arbitrated by Secretary of State Hilary Clinton . Hilary Clinton: Erika, Ashley, thank you for finally sitting together in this bean bag circle of truth to air your grievances and create a treaty whereby all the people of your lands shall live in peace. How did this rift between you two begin? Erika: Well, I told Ashley that I had a really bad break up in college and thought about suicide and was briefly institutionalized with depression. Thankfully my family was there to help me. Ashley: And then I told her that I was depressed too, but I didn’t have a family to rely on, so I was just depressed. Clinton: Did Erika mention anything about faking cancer ? Ashley: No, she didn’t, but she did mention an incident she wasn’t proud of. Erika: I didn’t mean that, I meant this outfit I once wore to a Death Cab for Cutie show. It was so bad that I almost had to change colleges over it. Everyone made fun of it, but I really thought that a dress made out of crocheted hanging planters would be a huge hit! Clinton: Well, this doesn’t sound like much of a fight. Ashley: No, that came later because I wanted to go on a duck tour and Erika wanted to go shopping and tried to derail my plans. Erika: Who wants to ride around town in a silly boat car thing anyway. I wanted to hit up some Urban Outfitters. I’m very conscious of my image after the crochet disaster. Ashley: She was all whiny and “No one ever does what I want to do,” but I wasn’t mad. I was passive aggressive, but I wasn’t mad, and all nine of us went to Georgetown together. Erika: But then they all wanted to eat. I didn’t want to eat I wanted to shop. That’s when my depression came back and I started to cry and told everyone I had cancer. I have cancer. Ashley: You didn’t tell us that! Erika: OK, I don’t have cancer. But it felt like I did. Clinton: Did you come to a resolution over the shopping skirmish? Ashley: We each bitched about it to our roommates when we got home. Erika: But then the next day, Ashley flipped out on me over the phone. Ashley: No one ever calls me and I don’t have any family and so I really wanted to talk to my friend on the phone and then you had to come in and call a cab. Erika: What did you want me to do? We had to go play laser tag! Ashley: Well, you could have been nice about it. You didn’t have to yell at me. Erika: You were the one who yelled at me!You just flipped out and started cussing me out. Clinton: Girls, please. We’re here trying to make peace. But it sounds like after the phone call incident you really went to war. Erika: Well, laser tag, yeah. My team won, cause we rule. Suckers! But when we got home the house smelled like pizza and there were ants and flies everywhere. I’m allergic to ants. So I had to teach Ashley how to clean. Ashley: God, Erika, I know how to clean. I have no family. I had to clean my car when I lived in it when I was homeless. But she was just acting so spoiled. You know that her family pays her rent and for her car. They take care of everything. She just throws a fit when I don’t get my way. Erika: You’re just jealous that I have a family, you stupid bitch. Ashley: I apologized for what I said, isn’t that enough. Erika: Oh please, you did the old, “I’m sorry for what I said, but not where it came from.” And then you started crying. I was the one wronged, I deserve to cry, not you. You stole my moment of sadness with your own tears and made your apology all about you, like always. Clinton: That doesn’t sound like it was very productive, but we’re trying to reach an accord. Is there anything that you ladies can agree on? Erika: That our roommate Mike is gay. Ashley: Oh yeah. He’s a huge homo. Even his boyfriend thinks so. Do you like the boyfriend, Erika? Erika: I do, he seems sweet. Ashley: I think he’s kind of a prick. That’s what everyone says about him. Erika: Is that why you were so cruel to me at dinner? Ashley: What are you talking about? Erika: I was telling Mike and Eric about how Ian and I were friends and then we became a couple and you interrupted and told me how boring I was. Ashley: That’s because everyone had heard that story like 50 times. Don’t you have another story. Maybe one about cancer? Erika: I hope your mother gets cancer. Oh wait, you don’t have one. Ashley: You fucking bitch. How dare you say that! Erika: Why did you get all mean to me about my boyfriend and then say it was a joke when you weren’t even joking. Clinton: Ladies. At this point it seems easier for one of you to leave the house than for you to work this out. Erika: I really thought about it because if I am in a really negative place then my cancer—I mean depression—my depression might come back. I don’t want that to happen, and as someone who was depressed, Ashley should understand that. Ashley: But I didn’t want you to leave because we’re friends. Clinton: You think that you are friends? Erika: She’s not my friend. I don’t like her, but I decided to stay. I’m going to be respectful of her and try to put up with her bullshit, but I will not be her friend. Ashley: But don’t fake being my friend. Erika: I won’t, because we’re friends. Maybe we should hug. Ashley: Yes, let’s hug. I promise to respect you like a roommate and we’ll work this out. Erika: I’m so glad we’re hugging. No one ever got cancer from a hug. Ashley: We are?

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The Real World: A Truly Detestable Detente

American Idol: The Sad Stuff

Finally we’re in Hollywood. Finally we have Ellen! Dear old Hollywood. Friendly old Ellen. Two good things. We should be happy, right? And yet… Mostly we’re just so sad. Hollywood Week is just terribly, terribly cruel, isn’t it? A friend and I watched the show last night, and we both couldn’t get over what a terrible, cruel thing this whole dog and pony show is. All the expectation, the airfare, the sad little suitcases packed with care. I know these people are willingly subjecting themselves to an experience that they know, nine seasons in now, to be a resoundingly cruel and demeaning one, but still. Remember in that great monologue at the end of Extras when Andy is talking about how horrid reality shows are, and he talks about X Factor and says something about the “bewildered being sniggered at by millionaires”? Well, yeah. That’s pretty true. These folks are bewildered and overwhelmed and just slightly hoodwinked and we are all monsters for watching them fail and enjoying it. That’s that. But, also, you know. At least we’re past the point of the Bad Auditions. Those episodes are the cruelest things that Idol does and the chief reason why Ryan Seacrest is going to burn in a terrible and fiery hell. (The other reason being, of course, a general sort of [flops wrist] -ness.) At least we’re past those. ANYWAY. Let’s talk about singing. Good old singing. That’s why we’re ultimately here, is it not? And there definitely was some good singing. You know who I like? Black Taylor Swift. Ohhhh you may fuffle your feathers and cluck that Oberlin tongue of yours and let your hemp monocle fall off your bearded face (you are a girl) because I said that she is Black Taylor Swift, but she is. She is black and young and likes pop-country (puntry? cop?) and plays a guitar and sings sweetly about things like lurve, so… Black Taylor Swift. I’ve a feeling she’s going to go far in this rotten competition. Because if there are two things that America loves, it’s Taylor Swift and black people. Well, OK. The Americans that love Taylor Swift are not the Americans that love black people, but as separate voting blocs they’re both pretty powerful and if they accidentally bump up against each other in their love for Black Taylor Swift, well, there’s no stopping that. It’s like when the Housewife bloc and the Gay bloc of Idol viewers mysteriously converged on Adam Lambert. That Frankenstein hobbled his way up to a second place finish! The Self-Loathing Gay and Sparkleteen blocs conquered in their quest to put Kris Allen over the top (or bottom, whatevs he wants!) in the end, but still. The success of Adam Lambert showed us what can happen when two disparate voting entities join forces and form a Voltron-esque power robot. Deftly courting the Egghead Latino vote is the Egghead Latino. You remember him. He looks like an egg and his mom and dad were in the Latin Kings but now everyone’s gone straight and mostly spends their time weeping in front of camera crews. As hobbies go, that’s not a bad one. It’s probably easier to find a 1912 buffalo nickel with a picture of Susan B. Anthony mooning everyone on it than it is to find a camera crew to weep in front of, but still. A hobby’s a hobby and hobbies are good things to have. Luckily for the Weepersons, their Egghead son is, like, so good. His slow and haunting cover of “Straight Up” was just sublime. And, yes, I do mean “haunting.” While he played it, Paula Abdul’s ghost could be seen flitting around the rafters, ghostly Diet Coke dribbling out of her mouth, a ghostly tomato soup stain on her ghostly brown dress. Kara Dioflergenhaven said something about Paula and this outraged the Abdul ghost, but luckily she hasn’t yet learned how to make her ghostly rage physically manifest. It’s like Patrick Swayze in that movie… You know… Um… Oh, right, Road House . When he got all mad he just had to kick with might and fury. The Paulaghost simply has to do that. It’s a learning process. I think by season’s end we’ll get to see the Abdul-ghoul, which looks pretty much exactly like Slimer, roundhouse Kara Diomercklemacklemickle right in the Tippi of her Hedren. And hopefully the Egghead Latino will still be doing his simmer-jams at that point. Because he is good . Also good: that blonde lady what sang that geetar song. You know the one. The one who cried during her audition because her friend had just died. Yes, we all suspect that she killed her friend so she could have something to cry about when she got to her audition, but who hasn’t done murder for American Idol ? Kelly Clarkson burned down that church with a whole congregation in it. They still haven’t found the heads of most of Clay Aiken’s victims. And I’m worried Fantasia Barrino is going to get fat if she doesn’t stop eating people. So murder aside, the Blonde Girl is better than all the Megan Joy Corkerys and Brooke Whites and Blake Lewises combined. She’s got style and strength, and she’s holding a gun to my head right now, so I’m going to keep saying nice things. She’s pretty. Except she can look a little horsey and I—ada/…………………………………… HI! This is the Paulaghost. That nice blonde lady shot and killed Richard, so I’m going to finish up this recap for him. OooooOOooooOOoooooooo….. I’m a ghossssst. Are you scared? You should be. You know who else is with me in the mysterious realm between your world and the next? MC Skat Kat. Yeah, he’s dead. No, no. It wasn’t the FIV that finally caught up to him. Kevin Covais raped and murdered him. Yup. Emphasis on the rape. Terrible thing, just terrible. But anyway. Richard left some notes here by the computer, let me just clean the brains and skull fragments off of them… Ah, here we go. It appears he also liked the big guy who’s wife went into labor right before he sang. He doesn’t think the dude has “a hoo-hoo’s chance at the Boiler Room” of winning, but he seems nice and sings well. So good for him. Oh look! It was just a flesh wound. Richard’s alive again. Or is he a ghossst, like on Lost ? Who knows. Anyway. Bye now! I’m going to go haunt Dunkleman. Hi! I’m back. My head hurts. Let’s just move on. Everyone is sad that Skimbleshanks got voted off the song island. Skimbleshanks was that nimble-bodied crack-cocaine addict that they carted in a while back and he oddly made it through to Hollywood and then was found to have a criminal record and everyone was shocked. Why be shocked? Crack-cocaine addicts have a tendency to commit crimes. Their special candy is not cheap, so sometimes they must steal a television or something. And, come on. Who among us hasn’t robbed a pawn shop before? I think we’ve all robbed a pawn shop, whether literally or metaphorically. (That time you decided to go to Franklin & Marshall instead of Swarthmore because of that cute girl you met on the F&M campus tour? Totally a metaphorical robbing of the pawn shop.) OK, Skimbleshanks didn’t actually rob a pawn shop. He’s just been found in possession of drugs and beaten people up in jail. So. He wasn’t going to make it anyway. No one mourn for Skimbleshanks. Unless you, dear reader, are Skimbleshanks. In that case, keen on my friend. I was also sad to see that poor country pumpkin — quite literally, it was a pumpkin wearing a thinning blonde wig — get sent home. The one from Vonore, TN. She was so nice and so rube-ish (Aeroplane!!). But she was just wayyy too nervous. Her voice was stumblin’ all over the place. One thing I hated though was when she was leaving and she said “I took a risk, and it didn’t pay off.” It didn’t pay off? Really? You got to go on an aeroplane and see California and meet Ryan Seacrest and have Ellen Degeneres talk to you. I think that’s a pretty fun weekend. I wouldn’t mind spending a free weekend like that. I think the risk totally paid off. Just because you’re not the next Black Taylor Swift, it doesn’t mean you failed, m’dear. Oh well. This has gone on far too long. Let’s all be happy that Hollywood is here, and soon the top 24. And then the top 12. And then the top 6. And then the top 3. And then 2. And then one. And then none. And the rest is silence. (Oohhh! Except! What’d y’all think of Ellen? I was surprised by how critical she could be. I assumed it was going to be all posies and sunshine. But I was wrong. So, well done Ellen?)

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American Idol: The Sad Stuff

Gripping Political Ad For Sheep, Fiscal Conservatives

Please enjoy this wool-blend attack ad from Carly Fiorina, candidate for the Republican nomination in California's US Senate race. The money shot is at 2:26, but you'll want to let it build.

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Gripping Political Ad For Sheep, Fiscal Conservatives

Let Me Count The Ways It Rocks… All 420 Of ‘Em

Thanks to my friend ZinnPixx Thanks to my friend GetYour420

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Let Me Count The Ways It Rocks… All 420 Of ‘Em

Spencer Pratt: Alleged Teen Hunk

“I hate my love handles. All the sit-ups in the world don’t make a difference. Some girls say they actually like them because they can grab on to ’em to hug me, but I’d prefer a tight six-pack

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Spencer Pratt: Alleged Teen Hunk