Hi there , that’s a new cover by me. I know it’s too late to do a cover of this song but, wherever xD Dedicated to: Laura Luís MySpace: www.myspace.com Twiter: twitter.com FaceBook Page: www.facebook.com Download link: www.mediafire.com Stream Team: vidstatsx.com FormSpring: www.formspring.me Keek: www.keek.com http://www.youtube.com/v/CRujoVfQNM4?version=3&f=videos&app=youtube_gdata View original post here: Justin Bieber – Under the Mistletoe Cover by Me
Original song by Justin Bieber Never Let You Go. (C) 2010 The Island Def Jam Music Group *At Matt’s request and in honor of his sister who is a leukemia survivor, a percentage of all of his fees are donated to the Sunrise Fund for children on Long Island who are fighting cancer. www.sunrisefund.org Matt also performs free of charge through Make-A-Wish and other organizations for children with life threatening illnesses. http://www.youtube.com/v/3nQlzv8tzT0?version=3&f=videos&app=youtube_gdata The rest is here: Justin Bieber Tribute Artist – Matt Taylor cover – Never Let You Go
This is just amazing! Maggie Meier would cradle the beach ball in her hands and, with perfect form, shoot it through her the arms of her sister, who had formed a makeshift hoop. Swish! The only thing out of the ordinary? Maggie Meier was in a coma: In the fall of 2008, Meier, now a senior at Blue Valley Northwest High School in Overland Park, Kan., complained to her parents about feeling ill. When her conditioned worsened they rushed her to the hospital, where she had a seizure.Doctors eventually discovered Meier was suffering from mycoplasma meningoencephalitis, a type of meningitis that caused swelling in her brain. She would end up in the hospital for 100 days. For two-and-a-half months, she was in a coma. Her doctors and family had to do everything for her, from turning her every two hours to moving her arms and legs for her so they wouldn’t stiffen. Sometimes the family would transfer her into a chair where she would shoot a ball into a mini hoop. After a few minutes of shooting, she would go back to her comatose state. “I have never seen anything like it,” said Dr. William Graf, Meier’s neurologist. “The act of shooting a basketball must have been ingrained as one of Maggie’s basic instincts — her basketball shooting motion came back to her even before she was able to stand up or walk again.” Now nearly fully recovered, Meier says she has absolutely no memory of playing. What an inspirational story! Jeremy Lin eat your heart out. Source Facebook More On Bossip! Put On Blast: One Of Game’s Black Wall Street Homies Posts TwitPic Of Gloria Govan In His Bed, eBeefs With Matt Barnes! Not So Secret: We Decipher All The Hidden Messages Rih Rih And Breezy Sent Each Other On Their New Songs Together! Sidepiece Showdown Pt. 2: Hollyweird’s Most Notorious Mistresses From Riches To Rags: A Gallery Of Huge, Multi-Million Dollar, Ballerific Cribs That Have Been Foreclosed On
Yup, Kendall Jenner is officially on her way to becoming as useless as her sisters. The reality star pulled a page out of her sibling’s attention-starved playbook this week, posting a photo of herself as a blonde on Instagram and asking fans for their thoughts. But – SURPRISE!!! – it was really just one big joke, as Kendall followed up the picture with a Tweet that reads: Don’t worry! Still a brunette! #fooledyou #sillyme . Man, she totally fooled us! Silly, silly Kendall… Kongratulations, Kim Kardashian , you have taught your sister very well. We shudder to think what lessons you’ll pass along next – and we pray they don’t include a video camera.
My name is Elodie. I’ll be 21 years old in March! I live in Southern France . I’ve been a fan of Justin from the very beginning. Despite my age, I am proud to be a belieber. I am proud to tell everybody that I’m a fan of Justin. The first time I met Justin was Friday April 30th, 2010 in Montpellier in France for a concert with several artists. There was a huge chance I could meet him. I have never thought that my dream would come true that day. As Justin would say, “NEVER SAY NEVER.” Since that day, I’m on my little cloud, he is so adorable. Hours before the concert, I had the great fortune of meeting him for a few minutes with very few people. I was told he would be arriving soon. I saw Justin’s crew. I could not believe it, Justin came up to me and said in French, “Hello, how are you?” It was so cute. At that time, my friends left me alone with him. Total panic. I was so shocked that I couldn’t answer. I handed him his album “My World” and he was so friendly that he agreed to sign it. I asked to take a picture with him and he replied with a smile, “Ohhhhh yeahh”. I passed him a letter and he told me, “It’s so cute, thank you”. Before I left, he put his hand on my arm and he looked at me, lowering these glasses and saying in French, “Thank you. Goodbye” and he repeated for several times in French. My 2nd Bieber experience was on Saturday January 28th, 2012 in Cannes, France for the NRJ MUSIC AWARDS 2012 . Hours before the ceremony of the NRJ Music Awards 2012, I met him. That day there was a lot of people, the paparazzi was messing with him. It was really a shame to see. People have no respect. My sister was so excited to see Justin though that she friendly called his name. She only said, “My sister…my sister…” He then he realized I was a fan of his. He looked me directly with a look and was sad for not knowing what to do with the paparazzi, it was so sad that he couldn’t do anything because of it. But Justin is so generous and kind that he came back to me for a photo! Justin has not changed, still the same. Always so adorable, generous with his fans, people judge without knowing. Justin loves his fans and everyone knows it. -Elodie Originally posted here: My name is Elodie. I’ll be 21 years old in March! I…
Colton Dixon really hopes the second time is a charm. This Murfreeboro, Tennessee native came oh-so-close to the top 24 on season 10 of American Idol , and didn’t even plan on trying out for season 11. But he showed up a couple weeks ago to support his sister, got roped into a song… and there he was last night, on stage in Hollywood. Sitting at the piano and sort of making love to the camera, Dixon impressed the panel with his take on “What About Now,” an apt selection, given his return to the competition. Think he has what it takes to advance this time around? Colton Dixon American Idol Audition – “What About Now” Great work here by Dixon, and also by Joshua Ledet on the same episode. Both advanced to the next round.
I know that the title to this post is way more exciting than the actual post, but I needed something to get some asses in the seats so to speak. Here’s Miley Cyrus hamming it up for the camera with her sister who’s name I don’t know or need to know. These may be older pictures, I don’t really know, but the incestuous sexual undertones are enough to get my pervert fantasy machine working so who cares.
No one, as far as I know, has come to the Berlinale in search of Gillian Anderson, the strawberry-blonde vixen who set millions of hearts aflutter — and not just male ones — with her role in the supernaturally beloved ’90s show The X-Files . But Anderson has surprised those of us who love her by showing up — in small roles, but still — in two films here, James Marsh’s Shadow Dancer and Ursula Meier’s Sister . In Shadow Dancer , a thriller set in early-‘90s Belfast, she’s a British secret-service officer who squares off against a colleague (played by Clive Owen). In Sister , she’s the well-heeled patron of a tony Swiss ski resort — and a mom — who befriends a young thief and rapscallion who barely knows what it means to be a child. Anderson hasn’t really been in hiding. She was one of the best things — perhaps the only good thing — in last year’s Johnny English Reborn , and she recently played Miss Havisham in the British TV adaptation of Great Expectations . She chooses her roles carefully and doesn’t seem particularly attracted to big Hollywood vehicles — though it’s more likely that Hollywood isn’t particularly interested in her, which is certainly its loss. There are plenty of movies to parse and examine here at the Berlinale, but at dinner last night with some colleagues (who happened to be guys), Anderson came up in the conversation, and we just looked at one another: “Gosh! Isn’t she something?” is the gist of what we said. Perhaps we love her more because she shows up so infrequently and so fleetingly, like a ginger comet. Her role in Shadow Dancer is small and tokenlike, but it’s interesting for its metallic coldness, not a quality we usually associate with Anderson. Then again, maybe it’s really just a mirror angle of the clinical skepticism she brought to the role of Dana Scully in The X-Files : She’s good at playing characters who can turn the warmth off when it gets in the way of the goal at hand, and in Shadow Dancer , she plays a character who’s all about goals. In Sister , Anderson isn’t strawberry blonde but truly blonde, and the first glimpse we get of her is a mane of glorious, rich-girl hair. At first I could see only the oblique planes of her face and, not knowing she was in the movie, I thought to myself, “Could it be…?” Her role is small but potent: Her character, skiing at the resort with her own kids, meets the young thief Simon (played, beautifully, by a kid actor named Kacey Mottet Klein), and the two are immediately charmed by each other. He pretends to be a the son of the resort’s owner, when really he’s a mighty mite of a hustler who scrambles to make a living for himself and his sister (Léa Seydoux). Anderson scrutinizes his face as he advertises this fanciful false background — you can see, in this tiny but potent scene, that she’s amused by him and yet somehow, instinctively, she also feels protective. It’s not that she doesn’t believe his tale (she seems to buy it all); it’s that her better judgment tells her that this kid is in need of something, and though she can’t be the one to provide it, she grants him the kindest gift she can: She takes him seriously, reacting to him as if he were the miniature adult he’s trying so desperately to be, meeting him on his own scrappy turf. That’s a lot to pack into a few small scenes, and it’s a bit frustrating that her character’s role in the drama isn’t better worked out — her final encounter with Simon doesn’t feel true to the woman we met earlier. On the whole, the picture is unevenly worked out, but it’s ultimately touching, thanks to the bittersweet grace notes scattered throughout. Anderson is one of those grace notes; her presence is as subtle as a sigh, but it’s the kind that sticks with you long after the credits roll. Read more of Movieline’s Berlinale coverage here . Follow Stephanie Zacharek on Twitter . Follow Movieline on Twitter .
No one, as far as I know, has come to the Berlinale in search of Gillian Anderson, the strawberry-blonde vixen who set millions of hearts aflutter — and not just male ones — with her role in the supernaturally beloved ’90s show The X-Files . But Anderson has surprised those of us who love her by showing up — in small roles, but still — in two films here, James Marsh’s Shadow Dancer and Ursula Meier’s Sister . In Shadow Dancer , a thriller set in early-‘90s Belfast, she’s a British secret-service officer who squares off against a colleague (played by Clive Owen). In Sister , she’s the well-heeled patron of a tony Swiss ski resort — and a mom — who befriends a young thief and rapscallion who barely knows what it means to be a child. Anderson hasn’t really been in hiding. She was one of the best things — perhaps the only good thing — in last year’s Johnny English Reborn , and she recently played Miss Havisham in the British TV adaptation of Great Expectations . She chooses her roles carefully and doesn’t seem particularly attracted to big Hollywood vehicles — though it’s more likely that Hollywood isn’t particularly interested in her, which is certainly its loss. There are plenty of movies to parse and examine here at the Berlinale, but at dinner last night with some colleagues (who happened to be guys), Anderson came up in the conversation, and we just looked at one another: “Gosh! Isn’t she something?” is the gist of what we said. Perhaps we love her more because she shows up so infrequently and so fleetingly, like a ginger comet. Her role in Shadow Dancer is small and tokenlike, but it’s interesting for its metallic coldness, not a quality we usually associate with Anderson. Then again, maybe it’s really just a mirror angle of the clinical skepticism she brought to the role of Dana Scully in The X-Files : She’s good at playing characters who can turn the warmth off when it gets in the way of the goal at hand, and in Shadow Dancer , she plays a character who’s all about goals. In Sister , Anderson isn’t strawberry blonde but truly blonde, and the first glimpse we get of her is a mane of glorious, rich-girl hair. At first I could see only the oblique planes of her face and, not knowing she was in the movie, I thought to myself, “Could it be…?” Her role is small but potent: Her character, skiing at the resort with her own kids, meets the young thief Simon (played, beautifully, by a kid actor named Kacey Mottet Klein), and the two are immediately charmed by each other. He pretends to be a the son of the resort’s owner, when really he’s a mighty mite of a hustler who scrambles to make a living for himself and his sister (Léa Seydoux). Anderson scrutinizes his face as he advertises this fanciful false background — you can see, in this tiny but potent scene, that she’s amused by him and yet somehow, instinctively, she also feels protective. It’s not that she doesn’t believe his tale (she seems to buy it all); it’s that her better judgment tells her that this kid is in need of something, and though she can’t be the one to provide it, she grants him the kindest gift she can: She takes him seriously, reacting to him as if he were the miniature adult he’s trying so desperately to be, meeting him on his own scrappy turf. That’s a lot to pack into a few small scenes, and it’s a bit frustrating that her character’s role in the drama isn’t better worked out — her final encounter with Simon doesn’t feel true to the woman we met earlier. On the whole, the picture is unevenly worked out, but it’s ultimately touching, thanks to the bittersweet grace notes scattered throughout. Anderson is one of those grace notes; her presence is as subtle as a sigh, but it’s the kind that sticks with you long after the credits roll. Read more of Movieline’s Berlinale coverage here . Follow Stephanie Zacharek on Twitter . Follow Movieline on Twitter .
Nothing says “international film festival” like a 9 a.m. goat flaying, as I was reminded at Sunday morning’s screening of Spiros Stathoulopoulos’s Metéora , which is being shown here in competition. Though I wasn’t too happy about the onscreen animal suffering — the actual slaughter of the poor beast may have been simulated, but I’m not sure — I did find the picture bewitching in other ways. I seem to be in the minority on that: Metéora has met with a lot of derisive snorting from many of my colleagues. But I think Stathoulopoulos — a young Greek filmmaker who has made only one previous feature, a real-time picture called PVC-1 — is on to something in this tale of a Russian Orthodox nun and a Greek monk who fall in love and endure the pangs of intertwined passion and guilt. If it’s true that human beings most want what they cannot have, a pretty good-looking nun and a not-so-shabby monk, housed in side-by-side towers of asceticism, have the cards stacked against them. What could be sexier, in a Brother Sun, Sister Moon kind of way? The movie takes its title from the medieval monastery complex Metéora, in Thessaly, a series of structures built on natural sandstone pillars that stretch practically into the clouds. Stathoulopoulos takes some liberties with these structures as they exist in real life: In the movie’s opening moments, he shows them to us as part of a sepia-toned triptych – in his vision, they’re mile-high his-and-hers towers, with a much stubbier stone mountain, topped by a leafy tree, nestled between. The Monk (Theo Alexander), and the Nun (Tamila Koulieva-Karantinaki), have come down from their respective retreats for a meeting in the countryside below: We see them in wide shot — they’re gifting each other with necklaces, or strings of flowers, or something — and hear them exchange austere blessings amid the grass and wildflowers. Then they part: Monk begins climbing the 652 — or something like that — stone steps to the top of the monastery, while Nun must huddle into a little net, which is then raised via a pulley to the treehouse-style convent above. (Later, we see a few hardy sisters working the crank on the contraption — nothing comes easy in the hardscrabble world of religious devotion.) Nun and Monk alternately avoid each other and rush into each other’s company. Like resourceful teenagers, they send signals to each other from their respective cells by bouncing sunlight off the surface of framed devotional pictures. They take delight in a picnic of goat meat (at least we know that poor goat didn’t die in vain), which Monk has prepared with care for his inamorata. Unable to resist her during this lunchtime idyll, he makes his move: She struggles when he first kisses her and then nudges his hand between her thighs, but resistance, as you can imagine, is futile. Hot monk-on-nun action is inevitable, but Stathoulopoulos approaches it delicately, as if it were an ascent to grace instead of a fall from it. Maybe Metéora is, all in all, a little too tasteful. The filmmaking is restrained and austere — a colleague of mine called it “too artisanal,” and I know what he means. But the film doesn’t seem arid — it’s as if Stathoulopoulos is trying to work a kind of divine sublimation, perhaps only semi-successfully, but at times his picture does achieve a kind of burnished gold glow, like the halo on one of the stiffly painted medieval saints. In fact, Stathoulopoulos shows a strong attraction to all that strange, flat religious art. Even though Metéora is set in the present day, we don’t know it until we see the nuns hauling their foodstuffs in plastic milk crates. Stathoulopoulos is going for the full-on medieval vibe here, but he modernizes it with a charming touch: Here and there he illustrates the story of our Nun and Monk with animated Byzantine icons — they move stiffly, like paper cutouts, but the effect only underscores the characters’ all-too-human frailty and uncertainty. In one of these animated segments, Monk, with Nun’s assistance, approaches Christ on the crucifix and drives nails into his palms; the sea of blood that flows from the wounds spreads into a sea of stylized curlicues that overwhelms our two already overwhelmed protagonists. The symbolism is obvious, but its over-the-top quality is what’s glorious about it. Stathoulopoulos doesn’t always go for broke in Metéora : He’s feeling his way toward the sweet spot between secular and sacred passion, and maybe, in the end, he doesn’t quite find it. But if you’ve ever felt a vaguely naughty thrill while looking at religious art – if, say, you’ve ever had an “I’ll have what she’s having” moment while looking at Bernini’s Ecstasy of St. Teresa — you don’t have a dirty mind. You’re simply seeing what’s clearly there. Religious fervor plus guilt can be a pretty hot equation. And if your Monk can cook, you’re golden. Follow Stephanie Zacharek on Twitter . Follow Movieline on Twitter .
