A Real Rock Star?!!!

Pete Doherty (former singer for The Libertines) is my favorite celebrity at the moment. Not only does he strut around England like he's the second coming of Liam Gallagher's ego, but he manages to actually up the ante that was set by that wonderfully colorful jackass way back in the 90's!



Last week, after being arraigned on drug possession charges, he was nearly crushed by the throngs of reporters waiting for him outside the courthouse - so in order to get away - he hopped a rail, kicked a microphone out a reporter's hand, and ran down the street and hopped in his Jaguar and sped off, smashing into a half a dozen parked cars. NOW the story has come out that he routinely parks his Jaguars wherever he pleases and when the cars get towed away, he just goes down to the dealership down the street, buys a new one, and lets the impounded cars just sit there unclaimed. He just purchased in EIGHTH Jaguar in two months for this reason.

Take some notes, folks. This is why our standing is slipping here in the US. England's rock stars are so much better than ours. If I wanted somebody humble and sensitive behind a microphone, I'd call Dr. Phil.

Maggie

No shows this weekend, but next weekend we'll be playing the New Times Beerfest in downtown Ft. Lauderdale.

Battlescar Galactica

I didn't even want to discuss this, but you've left me no choice.

This Britney Spears "Birth of Sean Preston" sculpture thing.



The artist claims this is some kind of tribute to Britney being Pro-Life or some crap like that, but it's clearly an unknown artist's pathetic attempt to get people to talk about him. Unfortunately, I'm feeding into that right now, but I have a point to make.

What you can't see from this photo is that there is a baby-head crowning in the back of the sculpture from her "hoo-hah". This would all be fine and good except for one small detail, Mr. Sculptor-Idiot-Guy:

Her baby was delivered via C-section.

That is all.

Maggie

p.s. for the ladies: I bought that new Lash Stylist mascara from Maybelline yesterday (the one with the little comb instead of the traditional mascara brush) and I just have to say LEAVE WORK AND GO BUY IT RIGHT THIS SECOND. I look like I'm wearing false eyelashes right now.

Back in Blak

Well, well, well. Coca-Cola has finally realized that coffee has been the hottest fad beverage for about the last fifteen years or so, and have created "Coca-Cola Blak". As you know, I am not a misspeller. It's actually "Blak". It's Coke...mixed with coffee! Let me sit back and savor the moment. Mmmm.

You hang on JUST a minute there, Coca-Cola! I actually invented Coca-Cola Blak like TWELVE YEARS ago! I was sitting in my car after picking up a Grande Half-Caf Non-Fat Mocha Latte with two packets of "Sugar in The Raw" and a rock-candy swizzle stick when I accidently spilled it into the can of Coke that was sitting next to it in the drink holder. Then I took a sip of the Coke, spit it out, screamed "Shitwater!", and proceeded to forget the whole incident by the time I pulled up outside "Clothestime" to buy one of those cropped denim jackets with the floral dress underneath and some brown ankle boots.

You shant get away with this, Coca-Cola. Not on my watch.

Maggie

One At A Time, Please!

Jason Gedrick. The mere mention of that name floods my memories with a thousand heart-shaped nostalgia tsunamis lashing at my insides like a floggin' toboggan of wanton pre-teen lust on a runaway Jordache-clad schooner to Puberty Island. And a tsunami can SO be heart-shaped. Shut up.

So, Jason Gedrick, in case you don't know, is best known for his roles as the dumb kid in "Iron Eagle", the dumb kid in "Iron Eagle II", the dumb kid in "The Heavenly Kid", and the asshole guy in that one episode of "CSI" last year. He's what we like to affectionately call a "nobody". But he DOES have good hair...and probably a bitchin' efficiency apartment in the San Fernando Valley where he's been contemplating sucking on an exhaust pipe and praying for his own death since 1988, so let's give credit where credit is due.

Be that as it may, I am pleased to announce that Jason Gedrick will star on a new drama called "Windfall" this summer on NBC. I think this might be his George Clooney/Patrick Dempsey comeback!

Wait! Wait! I've read the report further down, and Luke Perry will also be on the show. Sorry Jason - go back to the end of the line. We're only doing one resuscitation per season here, and Luke's picture was WAY bigger than yours on the cover of this "16 Magazine" in 1993.



Maggie

You've Come A Long Way, Skanky

Jessica Simpson is teaming up with her hairstylist, Ken Paves, to launch a line of hair extensions!!!!! FINALLY - something she's actually qualified to talk about! Now she can give up that whole music/acting thing and the world can return to normal. If we can just get Lindsay Lohan to give up acting and singing in favor of vomiting, and get Fergie from the Black Eyed Peas to give up singing in favor of being an orange man with a bladder problem, then we'll be totally set.

By the way, I am SO totally buying those Jessica Simpson hair extensions. And the Jessica Simpson "Dessert" makeup and body care collection. And the Jessica Simpson clothing line. And the Jessica Simpson line of dog grooming supplies and accessories. And the Jessica Simpson line of arthritis medication. And the Jessica Simpson line of engine exhaust manifolds. And the Jessica Simpson line of weapons of mass destruction. And the Jessica Simpson line of fat-free non-stick cooking spray. And the Jessica Simpson line of scientific calculators and sliderules. And the Jessica Simpson line of sport fishing taxidermy supplies. And the Jessica Simpson line of kangaroo birthing helmets.

Maggie

I Believe The Children Are Our Future

Holy Hilton, Skankman! Nicky and Paris Hilton are in talks to star in an animated cartoon series about their disgusting and depraved lives! I don't know why somebody didn't think of this sooner. I can't think of a better way to get through to that untapped pre-school/elementary school market. There are so many things the little ones could learn from the Hilton sisters! Like how to pick up the keys to your Bentley with your cooter. Or how to say "backdoor action" in Greek. Or how to eat a whole zucchini at once without chewing. Or my personal favorite, how to be famous for doing absolutely nothing but being two of the most revolting, disrespectful, untalented, useless human beings to ever walk the face of the earth!

And don't give Nicky a pass for that whole "fashion designer" thing. I was sticking gold stars to my Jordache purse in 8th grade, so she's not breaking any new ground there.

Maggie

Come see us at The Poorhouse tomorrow, March 25th, with The Livid Kittens and Psycho Daisies - we'll be going on last, so you'll have plenty of time to drink too much and humiliate yourself. No cover, strictly 21 and up.

The "Stud" in Student

Well, well, well. Now Eva Longoria is taking BACK what she said about her NBA-Star Boyfriend being the "student" and her being the "teacher" in the bedroom. I guess she got tired of him coming home from basketball practice covered in welts and man-juice. For comparison purposes, here's what Robo-Tan said last week:

"...he's only been with one other person in his life,"..."i'm definitely the teacher in the bedroom."

and here's what she's saying this week:

"...when the lights are out, he's the teacher, and I'm the student."

I'd love to see the lesson plan when she's in charge. I bet it involves her lying naked in a giant Louis Vuitton purse while he goes out and buys her the matching wallet. His lesson plan is probably just him closing his eyes and fantasizing that his girlfriend would shut the hell up about their sex life for two freakin' minutes in front of the press. Good luck with that one.

Maggie

Poorhouse - Ft. Lauderdale - This Saturday - Be There.

The Revolution Isn't Free, People!

Television just keeps getting better, doesn't it? Starcast Productions is organizing a televised seance to contact John Lennon. The catch? Besides it being one of the most stupid ideas I've ever heard, it will also only be shown on pay-per-view. Here comes the Mastercard joke.

General admission ticket to see The Beatles in 1964: $2.00

Seeing some dirty gypsies try to contact John Lennon's spirit: $9.95

Getting your dignity back after paying $9.95 for this bullshit: Priceless

I wonder what John Lennon would say if those wacky gypsy folks actually did contact his spirit? I would hope he would say something like this: "Ringo? Ringo Starr? Bloody RINGO STARR is still alive and I'm NOT?!! Bugger!" and then he'd spiritually backhand Yoko Ono for selling "Revolution" to a Nike commercial.

Maggie

Dear Dave Navarro,

Dear Dave Navarro,

It's a good thing you've decided to once again host that "Rock Star" show on CBS. I don't know how else I would get my weekly fix of seeing a man wear a feather boa with no shirt. Sure, sure, a lot of people will tell you that the whole stereotypical over-the-top rock star look of yore is played out, but I will tell you THIS my friends: it's still TOTALLY working for Jim Morrison. Note the similarities:








AND









Am I wrong?

Maggie

Those Who Can't, Teach

Here. We. Go. Again.

Like it's not bad enough that every skank in town is wearing gauchos? In the past three days I have seen COLORED gauchos. Friday, it was a pair of pea soup green gauchos, and yesterday it was a pair of SALMON colored gauchos. I had to spend yet another night washing out my eyeballs, breathing into a paper bag, and wishing harm to the wholesale buyers at Marshall's.

MOVING ON.

Eva Longoria has told Allure Magazine that it was "love at first sight" with her NBA-star boyfriend Tony Parker. She also said that "he's only been with one other person in his life," and that she is the "teacher" in the duo.

Seriously. When are you celebrities going to learn? There is nothing worse than blabbing on and on about who you're getting it on with when you know damned well that the chance of a celebrity relationship lasting is about as good as me actually giving Rob Thomas's solo album a chance.

And I'm sure that the boyfriend loves having her tell the entire universe that she's only the second woman he's ever been with and that she has to be "the teacher". I'm sure that kind of information goes over really well in the NBA locker room. I hope she's "teaching" him how to cower naked in a corner while being snapped with wet towels and playing the role of the unwilling cracker in an NBA circle jerk. At least THAT would be useful.

Maggie

Hey - we're playing at The Poorhouse this Saturday, March 25th! No cover, 21 and up.

Chasing Ryan

Well now this interesting! It's being reported that Teri Hatcher is now dating Ryan Seacrest! I tell ya, I was almost certain that we were living in the real world, and it turns out we've actually been in living in Bizarro World ALL WEEK. Black is white, up is down, right is left, gay is straight. Who'd a thunk it?

Come on! Ryan Seacrest??!! I bet she's one of those women who thinks that she can "change him" and they can still go accessory shopping together and he can do her hair and gossip about whomever Eva Longoria is currently getting her beav waxed for and then he'll fling up the back of her dress and bend her over the makeup counter at MAC and pepper her uterus with his well-groomed swimmy-tailed soldiers. Well, WAKE UP, Teri. This isn't "Chasing Ryan".

What's next, is she gonna dig up Liberace and take him to Spago?

Maggie

Happy St. Patrick's Day! You're drunk already aren't you.

Moons Over My Pammy

Pamela Anderson was recently spotted with writing on her famously large fake boobs. There's been much talk of what exactly the writing says, but I think it's probably the logo from her implants starting to bleed through. If you look at the photo up close, I'm sure it probably says, "Skank-O-Rama Brand - Size Watermelon - Not to be used as a floatation device - May cause you to hump Kid Rock and make your weird oblong nipples show through everything you've ever worn in public".

Either that or it was just some Tommy Lee leavin's. I heard it's actually long enough that he dips it in india ink and uses it as a pen now.

In the immortal words of Alasdair, "sometimes it's so easy I'm ashamed of myself."

Shout out to YCDTOT fans. Holla, by golla!

Maggie

p.s. Next show is Saturday, March 25th at The Poorhouse. More to come...

Reaming The Cube

I know what you're thinking, "Why hasn't there been any snotty commentary on this Welcome Back, Kotter re-make business?" I will tell you why, Brer Bear:

The reason you haven't heard a peep from me about this whole "Ice Cube starring in the film version of Welcome Back, Kotter" thing is because since I initially heard the news of it, I have been vomiting up my own stomach in an attempt to keep myself from fully digesting said news. I'm thinking of finding Gabe Kaplan and kicking him to death in the nut-ular region just so he can roll over in his grave.

I can't wait until Hollywood runs out of classic television shows to rip off and ruin, and they'll start remaking horrible old TV shows like "Three's A Crowd" and "Rags to Riches". Ooh! How about "It's A Living!"??

Okay, I have to be honest here. I freakin' LOVED "It's A Living!".

Maggie

Shorties

There is so much to talk about, you're getting the "Bend Over Shorties and Let Me See What You Gots":

1. The Cars are holding a press conference today to announce a reunion tour. Wait. Before you get excited, Ric Ocasek is not going to be part of it. This is the equivalent of serving the finest filet mignon that the world has ever known on the floor of a gas station bathroom that hasn't been cleaned since Darva Conger was considered a celebrity.

2. Britney Spears has put K-Fed on a K-onstrictive budget because he's so K-Razy with all the baggy pants purchasing. I can't wait for his next single, which I'm sure will be called "Big Allowance Pimpin'".

3. Isaac Hayes is leaving 'South Park' because, after making fun of every religion in the world, Matt Stone and Trey Parker decided to make an episode that took jabs at Scientology. For those of you who don't know, Isaac Hayes is a Scientologist from way back, which has rendered him unable to communicate with us Earthlings. It also tends to make people lose any sense of humor that they ever had, and become laughing stocks of the entertainment world. It's all in 'Dianetics', people.

4. Jared Leto wears a priest frock and goth-y makeup at his crappy band's (30 Seconds to Mars) show because he claims it "gets him in the mood". I'm not sure what "mood" he thinks he's talking about, but I'd say it's probably "I miss 1991."

Maggie

Shut it, Pete

~~~Opposite Day: Citizens on Patrol~~~

Osama Bin Laden's niece is getting a reality show, and I for one, think it's a FANTASTIC idea. Like an idiot, she dropped the last name Bin Laden, over fears that people would be turned off by it, but makes a point of talking NON-STOP about how she's Osama Bin Laden's niece. Kudos. That is an excellent formula for success. From what I understand, she's trying to be the next Hilary Duff or something. Can I get a big ol' round of HELL YES?!!!! There are clearly not enough Hilary Duff's in the world.

You know, it makes me super-sad that reality television shows weren't around back in the old days. I heard that Mussolini's nephew was an excellent jazz pianist, Hitler had a sister who could shoot ping-pong balls out of her cooter, and Stalin's step-uncle could actually fart the entire Russian alphabet - backwards! And talk about a built-in audience. I would venture to say that Stalin was AT LEAST as famous as Jessica Simpson is today, if not more. It's a network executive's dream.

Man, am I super-super-sad.

~~~End of Opposite Day Blogging Marathon, You Can Return to Your Regularly Scheduled Barnyard Porn Now~~~

Maggie

The Opposite Day Fun Continues

~~~Opposite Day Starts Again~~~

I recently viewed the footage of Lindsay Lohan being followed around by the paparazzi and I thought about how terrifying it must be to be a nineteen year old girl just trying to walk down the street with fifty grown adults bashing into you with cameras and flashes and yelling at you the whole time. I started to feel really bad for Lindsay Lohan, and even a little fearful for her safety, and I even remarked aloud how great her fake tan looked.

Then I rolled back over in bed, made out with Wilmer Valderrama and Ashlee Simpson some more, and stuck a pair of cuticle scissors into my Lindsay Lohan voodoo doll a few more times.

~~~You Haven't Seen The Last of Opposite Day~~~

Maggie

Opposite Day?!! My Favorite!!!

~~Begin Opposite Day~~

I'm so glad that the Hollywood machine is re-making the film classic 'Hairspray'. Hopefully, they can do a better job with it than that talentless hack John Waters. That guy makes Ingmar Bergman look like M. Night Shyamalan.

And let me also just say that I am pleased as sugar-free punch that John Travolta has been cast in the role of Edna Turnblad. If only DIVINE were still alive to see how well JOHN FRIGGIN' TRAVOLTA would "totally own" that role. I don't know who's being cast in the role of Tracy Turnblad, but I've got my fingers crossed that it's Nicole Richie in a fat suit. Other dream casting choices would have to be Nick Lachey as Link Larkin, Heather Locklear as Velma Von Tussle, and Usher as Seaweed. And instead of The Corny Collins Dance Show, they could all compete on Survivor. And instead of that whole anti-segregation angle, it could focus on boobs. Big ones. That bounce and jiggle. Then Bruce Willis could totally save the day while an Aerosmith ballad blasts over the scene. And let's stretch it out from 90 minutes to like four hours.

~~End of Opposite Day~~

I hate you, Hollywood.

Maggie

Aged, Thy Name is Webster

I felt old when the Olsen Twins starting humping Greek shipping heirs. I felt old when Sabrina The Teenage Witch had a baby. I felt old when that chick from 'Family Matters' started doing porn. I felt old when Anthony Michael Hall turned into David Caruso. I felt old when Ricky Schroeder got so freakin' ugly that I couldn't even stand to look at his face anymore without contemplating lesbianism. I felt old when Wilford Brimley hit on me and I actually considered it. I felt old when I publicly said, "What is this nonsense?" when I heard Kanye West for the first time. I felt old when I bought underwear that was sold in a three-pack. I felt old when I went to a used record store and only walked out with Rick Springfield's Greatest Hits.

Sometimes I actually say, "Music isn't as good as it used to be!" when nobody's around, then I take a shot of Metamucil, slip into a bedazzled Mu-Mu, put on some undereye wrinkle cream, and fall asleep watching 'Wheel of Fortune' with four cats sleeping on top of me. Then I wake up, catch ten minutes of an old re-run of 'Friends' and get really freaked out at all the casual sex that's still being promoted in this day and age. There's NO WAY Joey Tribbiani didn't at least have The Herp before he moved out to California to become a non-laughing stock of the sitcom spin-off crap factory. Sometimes...I even find Jay Leno amusing. All of this is fine and good, except for THIS:

I just read that Emmanuel Lewis, TV's "Webster" is 35. I'll pause for a few hours so you can fully take that in.

Maggie

Weapon of Mass Media Destruction

There's a poll this month in Stuff Magazine (I know, my favorite) that found that people would prefer to spend an evening in a tent with Saddam Hussein than with Tom Cruise. On that note, here is a list of other nouns I would prefer to spend an evening in a tent with than Tom Cruise:

1. A nude and aroused Dr. Ruth
2. Joan Crawford's 60 year old used maxi-pad
3. The corpse of Grover Cleveland
4. Clay Aiken's reclaimed personal lubricant
5. That flamer from The Groovenics (I know, which one?)
6. A life-size cardboard cutout out of Jon Basedow
7. Joseph Stalin's chamber pot
8. Ryan Seacrest's vagina
9. The toilet Elvis died on
10. Chef Boyardee's enema bag
11. Mickey Rourke's liposuctioned neck fat
12. Madonna's prostate
13. Various unidentifiable odors that live inside Star Jones
14. The ass-portion of Brent Indeed's underwear
15. A mouthful of James Brown
16. Donald Rumsfeld's judgement
17. William Shatner's ego
18. My own ego
19. Ralph Macchio's saliva
20. A bucket of pubic lice

Care to add any? I'm sure I forgot at least a couple of things.

Maggie

Tales From The Stripped

Here we go with Scott Stapp again. I recently had someone ask me, "If you hate Scott Stapp so much, why do you write about him?".

I will tell you why, my naive friend. Because I possess a thing called "journalistic integrity". It's kind of like real integrity, but not really. It's more like a fabulous pair of shoes that you got on sale but are horribly uncomfortable to actually wear. Journalistic integrity looks good, but in the long run, it ruins all your fun.

So, one of the women in the Scott Stapp sex tape is suing him, along with the video distribution company, for defaming her character and breach of verbal contract, blah, blah, blah. This is an actual quote from the papers that were filed with the court:

"Jane Doe was one of the four women who participated in the sexual acts, after a romantic interlude with Stapp, and under the belief that the video was to remain in Stapp's private possession. For all purposes, she is the star of the females in the video."

"Romantic Interlude"?

Interesting. A lot of people will tell you that romance is dead, but apparently it's alive and well and living on its knees in front of Scott Stapp. I can only assume romance swallows as well.

"She is the star of the females in the video"?

Gimme a minute. I think my sides just actually split open. I think that in this new world of reality television, people are really throwing the word "star" around quite haphazardly.

Susan Sarandon = Star

Topless skank on a camcorder video in an RV with Scott Stapp and Kid Rock = Day-Shift Stripper

See the difference? It's a fine line, I know.

Maggie

Dogpile on The Rabbit

By a show of hands, who thought Nick Lachey would turn this whole "has-been" thing around?

What?

No one?

Your collective negative-nancy-ism is astounding.

Well, I will have you nay-sayers know THIS. Nick Lachey is ALL OVER TELEVISION right now. If you stay up late enough (and run out of Dave Coulier stand-up comedy videos to watch) you can catch Nick Lachey on any variety of networks. Shirtless. Working out on top of a big rubber ball. In an infomercial. Laugh all you want, but...

Seriously. Laugh all you want.

Maggie

Words of Wangdom

Dear Men,

As demonstrated by the naked pictures of Pete Wentz (bass player for Fall Out Boy) that are circulating around the internet, there are still a few things that men need to learn about impressing women.

1. Our eyes are not made of labia. Up-close wiener shots make us laugh, and then recoil in horror, then laugh again, then recoil again, then laugh, then recoil, and so on and so forth. When we're done doing that, we show your wiener picture to all of our friends, and submit it to a few websites. Size truly doesn't matter here. Pictures of wieners are just funny...and horrifying...and then funny again.

2. Less IS more. A lot of men find this to be a "gray area" because most women have a unique scale of what they find to be "too much". For the record, shirtless is good. Pantsless is bad. Hats of any kind - when otherwise naked or semi-naked - bad. A picture of you in a diaper? Always, always bad.

3. I realize that this must be the influence of porn on the young folks, but believe it or not, the mere sight of a man's package is NOT enough to get us going. News flash: Sometimes, we actually like to be spoken to. If you can manage to speak to us for five minutes without whipping it out, that's even better.


Don't make me pull this blog over.

Sincerely,
Maggie

My XXX Fantasy

It's not often that a celebrity fulfills your every fantasy, and I feel so overwhelmingly lucky that Mariah Carey has told The London Mirror the following:

"I've been working out like mad - you can even punch me in the stomach and feel how tight that is..."

I'm lacing up my boxing gloves right this second and boarding the next plane to Doucheville. A lot of people in the sports world will tell you that it's wrong to weight your boxing gloves with a few beakers of mercury and a cinder-block or two, but I think they're not living in the real world. If there's one thing I refuse to be accused of, it's not keeping it real.

AND

Vin Diesel has decided that he would also like to be my muse today. How else could he explain the following article I just pulled from The New York Daily News?:

"The burly, bald-pated star reveals that he's nicknamed his swollen biceps "The Kryptonics," although he insists he'd never break out the big guns in order to score a prospective date's digits.

"No! What do you take me for? I'm much more romantic than that," he tells the magazine of his cautious use of "The Kryptonics." "I'm more likely to sing Broadway show tunes to a girl."

1. Do I really have to address the fact that he has named his biceps? I can only imagine the other body parts he's "named". I don't want to get too much into it, but I bet there's a steroid-affected part below his waist that he calls "The Disappointer".

2. I can't recall the last time a male suitor sang me Broadway show tunes to impress me, but I think it may have been Clay Aiken, and I may have been wearing a Ricky Martin costume at the time.

3. I have to see if I can get him together with Mariah Carey for her "punch me in the stomach" business. I can't think of a more fitting task for "The Kryptonics".

Maggie

Believe It Or Not - You CAN Touch This!

Well, thank heavens! MC Hammer is blogging! It seems that like a million people are reading his blog, so I thought I'd rip off some ideas from him. This is a portion of what he posted on March 5th:

"I work my chest and lower back and abs a lot. No heavy weight. I have to be able to explode and be quick and fast with my hands and feet. My calves and thighs are most important for the hot moves out today. Squats with no weights will do the trick. I will also do some leg presses with about three hundred pounds just to keep the thighs and hamstrings firing."

Okay, I'll tell you guys what my workout regimen is, since that seems to be what readers like to see:

I work my chest muscles as I slam the snooze button repeatedly on my alarm clock and then work my lower back as I bend over to pick up something to wear out of the hamper that doesn't smell *too* much like whiskey vomit. My jiggly ass and indifference to everything in the world are most important for the hot moves out today, like "eating cheeseburgers" and "not caring". Squats with no weights are still too much work for me, and threaten to make me perspire, which would totally destroy my eyeliner so I think we all know THAT'S not gonna happen. I will also do NO leg presses with about no-hundred pounds just to keep the thighs thunder-y and hamstrings doughy.

There. Are you satisfied? As per usual, I am not.

Maggie

Basic Inskankt

AP from PARIS - A team of American-led muff-divers has discovered a new crustacean in the South Pacific that resembles a lobster and is covered with what looks like silky, blond fur, French researchers said Tuesday.

Scientists said the animal, which they named Sharon Stone, was so distinct from other species that they created a new family and genus for it.

The divers found Sharon Stone in waters 7,540 feet deep at a site 900 miles south of Easter Island last year. In what scientists described as a "surprising characteristic," Sharon Stone's pincers are covered with sinuous, hair-like strands.

It is also blind to its own desperation and ego. The researchers found it had only "the vestige of a membrane" in place of eyes and a moral compass.

The researchers said that while legions of new ocean species are discovered each year, it is quite rare to find one that merits a new family.

The name, Sharon Stone, was taken from the Latin "Beaverus Wrinkleus", the goddess of crustaceans in cooter mythology.

Here are a few pics:





Hmm? I think someone's looking for a little publicity for that Basic Instinct sequel.

Love Always,
Maggie

photos courtesy of Yahoo and The Fuggers

Destroy My Career, Baby One More Time

I am so excited about the comedic potential of this quote, I think I just ovulated. Madonna's daughter asked her if she was gay, after seeing her well-orchestrated "controversial" kiss with Britney Spears a while back, and this was Mad Dad's response:

"No, it just means I kissed Britney Spears. I am the mommy pop star and she is the baby pop star. And I am kissing her to pass my energy on to her."

And look at the wonders that her "energy" has done for Britney Spears since then. I'm thinking that perhaps Mad Dad's "energy" was actually just a radical form of Herpes that attacks the judgement controls of the brain, resulting in "someone" Feder-lining his pockets with hundred dollar bills while "someone" becomes a laughing stock of the pop star world who dabbles more in Cheetohs than Kabbalah.

Come to think of it, pretty much everyone who has ever kissed Madonna has had their career tank shortly thereafter. Guy Ritchie, Dennis Rodman, Warren Beatty, Sandra Bernhard, that Coke bottle in "Truth or Dare" - the list goes on and on.

Oh yeah, and Bobby Brown just got arrested...again. Yawn.

Maggie

Batteries ARE Included!

If you're going to get beat up by an international music superstar, I would think you would choose someone like Mick Jagger, or Billy Idol, or even the cop from The Village People. Why would you get beaten up by Yanni? That's just bad for your reputation.

Yanni was arrested at his home in Manalapan, FL for domestic battery on his girlfriend. It seems that all of the gentle ivory-tickling finally sent him over the edge of the babbling brook into that dark world where chimes sound like bitch-slapping. While I find woman-beaters to be among the lowest form of scum on the planet, I do find it slightly amusing to imagine Yanni wearing a stained undershirt, swigging out of a can of Colt 45, attempting to flip over a dinette set that's bolted to the floor of the trailer, wrenching his back, filing for disability, and throwing a TV dinner against the wall yelling "I'm not gonna eat this DOG FOOD. You better make me some real food, bitch, or I'm gonna cut you!"

For the record, Yanni is maintaining his innocence, but I think he should at least do some time for "Live at The Acropolis". Ten or fifteen years should do it.

Maggie

Ooh That Smell - Part 3

Here we go again. It's not enough that has-been tartlets like Britney Spears and Mariah Carey and Shania Twain have their own "signature scents", now they have to go and give has-been tartlet television shows their own perfumes.

Desperate Housewives perfume will hit the market next year, just in time for the show to hit rock-bottom and only be watched by people who still think it's cool to say "You go girl". Now I have to get all psychic again and predict what "Eau de Desperate To Eat" is going to smell like:

"Prepare to be whisked away to Wisteria Lane on the sexy, shimmery waves of Botox, Dulcolax, and a Brazilian Wax - or really any substance that contains the letter "X" that will leave you hairless, your face paralyzed, and your colon as empty as your skanktankerous casting couch soul - as sprinkles of Dexatrim gently pelt you into a glazed-over state of denial that your show is going down faster than Eva Longoria on an NBA player, or that guy from N'Sync, or that other guy."

I can only hope that there's a CSI: Miami perfume in the works. I want to smell like blacklights and DNA and David Caruso's jowls.

Maggie

She's Poetry in Lotion

Every now and then you read a bit of information that sends your imagination on a fluttery, pink champagne voyage to Fantasyland. That's right! Jessica Simpson is considering publishing a book of her very own poetry! I for one, have to give that a big ol' HELL YES! In tribute, I will now write a poem from Jessica's perspective:

Puffy clouds in a rainbow sky
These days all seem like cherry pie
But I don't eat pie cuz it has sugar
Thank God there are no carbs in this booger
So buy me stuff
It won't shut me up
But I'll be more inclined to let you THINK that I might show you my boobs, but I'm SO not going to
For reals.
Daddy! This guy from Maroon 5 wants me to put it in my MOUTH! Ew!!!!

Maggie

You With The Stars In Your Eyes

As I'm sure you already know, the Academy Awards will be happening this Sunday. I, for one, can hardly wait to see what kind of fermunda cheese Teri Hatcher makes everyone sniff on the red carpet through her visible underwear and how many layers of spackle Bai Ling will have to use to cover up her mouth gonorrhea. That is, after all, what the Oscars are all about. The trophies are merely a rouse.

Let's play the "Obvious Oscar Prediction Game":

1. Attention- (and carb) -starved starlets will tell all of us little people about the mammarial wonders of double-sided toupee tape! Tres classy, ladies.

2. Marcia Cross will look like an pinch-faced freak-headed alien!

3. Johnny Depp will continue his rebellion against his own good looks by showing up looking like Buster Keaton's rotten, maggot-infested corpse!

4. Ryan Philippe will have whatever's stuck up his ass STILL stuck up his ass!

5. Gwyneth Paltrow will either cry, speak in a British accent, or cry while speaking in a British accent!

I can't friggin' WAIT.

Maggie

With Mouths Wide Open

Oh come on, Scott Stapp. Stop making me write about you. Don't you know how much I loathe you?

Allright, so Scott Stapp is speaking out about this whole sex tape thing, and about his life in general. I'm sure glad he's not "blowing" the whole thing out of proportion.

Here's a quote: "Obviously someone wants to hurt me and doesn't want me to be successful in my solo career."

Yes, Scott. And that person is God.

Maggie

Coachella DeVille

Remember how everybody went, "Huh?" when Metallica was put on the Lollapalooza line-up a few years ago? It signified the long overdue death of a bloated festi-villain who had overstayed its no-longer hip welcome. Today's deathmarch will be for:

The Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival.

Yes, that's right. Madonna will be playing this year's Coachella, although I was thinking of changing her name to "Mad Dad". She's pretty burly these days, and all this business with the hernia operation - allright already, Esther! You're killing me with this meshuga disco revival!

She's really breaking my balls here.

Maggie

Start Poppin'

Regarding his split from Jessica Simpson, Nick Lachey has bravely told Teen People Magazine - "Don't feel sorry for me."

I am so glad he has advised us of this information. I've been sitting outside of his mansion all day long feeling sorry for him. I don't know what to feel more sorry about - the fact that he's been paroled from his prison sentence for being an accessory to blonde crimes against humanity, or the fact that he's going to knee-deep in cash and whores by year's end. I hope that the wads of hundred dollar bills and jigglin' boobies are able to catch his tears.

Personal note to Nick: You are what is known in the real world as "lucky". Now shut up and find some other bimbo that will make you feel as smart as Jessica did. You can pretty much just throw a rock in Los Angeles and hit three or four hundred of these women at one time. They're all in line to audition for "Elim-a-Date".

Maggie