Thursday, June 30, 2005

The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name; and the Marriage That, Unfortunately, Did

Ooooh, great gossip from Gawker! They ran this not-very-"blind" item with a picture of TomKat with black bars over their eyes, just in case mentally-challenged readers had a hard time figuring out who they were discussing in this juicy piece of hearsay, and possibly, libel:
A famous actor, who we’re not going to name because he likes to sue people who accuse him of what in the next paragraph we’ll accuse him of, and his recently obtained fiancée, with whom he is very, very, very much in love, have a five-year contract regarding this relationship, and she is to be paid $8 million for fulfilling her end of the contract. •

The deal was arranged and the engagement announced in a very short period of time because the wife of a certain, and rather adorable, pop singer found her husband in bed with the abovementioned unnamed actor, and said actor wanted to have this new news out as soon as possible so as to overshadow any new rumors about his sexuality.

We’ve received at least 6,298 forwards of this email in the last few days. We can’t imagine it’s true, for a lot of reasons including the unlikelihood that so many of your friends just back from L.A., or friends who work for Universal, or friends who work near the green room at "Today," all tell exactly the same story.

Married, adorable male pop star in bed with the T-Man? Hmmmmm. It's the "adorable" part that makes this so hard....Nick Lachey? Is he really a pop star anymore, though? Doesn't he just carry Jessica Simpson's shopping bags now? I would say J-Lo's hubby Marc Anthony, but he's about as far from adorable as one can get and still be human. That dude who sang the song-that-wouldn't-die with Santana? I think his name is Rob Thomas. He's married, and some, I suppose, might think he's cute. Not my cup of tea, mind you, but...Oh, I don't know! Jon Bon Jovi? Simon LeBon? Joey McIntyre? It could be anyone. Any readers care to indulge in some wild, uninfomed speculation with me? Send me your guesses!

In other non-news, Bennifer II have finally been wed in holy, sacred, shotgun-style matrimony.

CNN reports that:
After months of speculation, Ben Affleck and Jennifer Garner have tied the knot -- and she's pregnant.

Representatives for both actors confirmed the marriage to The Associated Press on Thursday. Their publicists, Ken Sunshine and Nicole King, also confirmed that Garner is pregnant with her first child.

Sunshine and King would not give any other details.

The confirmation came after Us Weekly reported that Affleck, 32, and Garner, 33, were wed Wednesday at the Parrot Cay resort in the Caribbean islands of Turks and Caicos. The National Enquirer also released photos it claimed showed Garner arriving on the islands with her "Alias" co-star Victor Garber.

In stark contrast to Affleck's much publicized relationship with Jennifer Lopez, he and Garner have been tightlipped about their romance. Aside from appearing at a Boston Red Sox game last fall, they have stayed out of the public eye.

Reports in April about an engagement were never confirmed. In May, E! News reported that Garner was pregnant and the baby was due in November, but neither star confirmed that report.

This is first marriage for Affleck and the second for Garner, who divorced actor Scott Foley in March 2004 after 3 1/2 years of marriage.

Well, that's kind of a letdown. J-Lo stole their thunder with her quickie nuptials to the man who put the "troll" into "controlling."

Anyway, congratulations, Bennifer II, and good luck with that career-suicide pact you've entered into!

And a fond, final adieu to the original Bennifer:

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Forever in our hearts...

Reality Bites!

Goddamn it! I am outraged! Outraged, I say!

First, whorish soap-opera-"star"/clod/beyotch/egomaniac/terrible dancer Kelly Monaco beat out a former New Kid on the Block--the lovable and self-effacing Joey McIntyre--on "Dancing With the Stars" last night, which means Monaco is in the final two, against gallant/charming genius John "J. Peterman" O'Hurley!

And now I have word from Rebekah M. via Terri R. that there is a rumor going around that they screwed up J. Peterman's scores last week and he never should have been in the bottom two! We smell a Kelly Monaco conspiracy! Which doesn't surprise me in the least! That little troll Monaco will stoop to any depth to win, any depth at all! She's probably sleeping with the old English vaudevillian judge! Aack! If anyone has any information regarding this urgent matter, please email or comment! It is a matter of international importance! The status of the USA in the world of competitive ballroom dancing with amateurs is at stake!

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Behold the man, the myth, the legend: John O'Hurley. Look at him! He's so awesome. I don't know what the blue ribbon is for, but it better be for beating the tiny, barely-there, incredibly tacky, sparkly hotpants off that slut Kelly Monaco in the finals of "Dancing With The Stars." However, I think it has something to do with those dogs. Damnit! Cute, but, still. Damnit!

Now the NY Daily News is reporting that ABC has pulled the plug on "Welcome to the Neighborhood," which was about a group of homeowners in my own home town who get to vote on who will receive a free, brand-new hideous house in the Circle C subdivision out in the suburbs. The show was never even aired! The previews made it clear that a variety of prejudices were going to be exposed--the neighbors cower in terror at the sight of a tattoo-covered family, Hispanics, gays, poor people, etc. It looked riveting. Riveting! And now I'll never get to see it!

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From the Daily News:
"Welcome to the Neighborhood," an ABC reality series that pushes hot buttons of racism and anti-homosexuality, was pulled by the network before its debut. The program had drawn criticism from groups claiming it risked fostering prejudice.

In a statement Wednesday, ABC acknowledged the delicate nature of the series in which families asked to pick a new neighbor are made to expose and overcome their biases.

"Welcome to the Neighborhood" demonstrates what happens when people are forced to "confront preconceived notions of what makes a good neighbor," the network said.

"However, the fact that true change only happens over time made the episodic nature of this series challenging, and given the sensitivity of the subject matter in early episodes we have decided not to air the series at this time."

The six-episode show, which was to debut July 10, follows three families in Austin, Texas, who are given the chance to choose a new neighbor for a house on their street.

Each family initially wants someone similar to them - white and conservative.

Instead, they must choose from families that are black, Hispanic and Asian; two gay white men who've adopted a black child; a couple covered in tattoos and piercings; a couple who met at the woman's initiation as a witch; and a poor white family.

In the early episodes, one man makes a crack about the number of children piling out of the Hispanic family's car and displays of affection between the gay men provoke disgust.

The series' producers had said it was intended to promote a healthy and open debate about prejudice and people's fear of differences.

The Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation, after viewing the series, expressed strong concerns.

While it ultimately carries a valuable message about diversity and acceptance, those watching the first episodes could be left thinking discrimination is "not that big a deal," GLAAD spokesman Damon Romine said Wednesday.

"Regardless of how things turn out at the end of the last show, it's dangerous to let intolerance and bigotry go unchallenged for weeks at a time," he said, adding that GLAAD hopes a revised version might air.

Before ABC announced its decision, the Family Research Council said it was worried evangelicals would be made to appear judgmental and foolish.

Oh, for f**k's sake! They have taken away my potential viewing pleasure because on the one hand, GLAAD thinks that the progam makes discrimination "not that big a deal," and on the other, because the Family Research Council worries that it makes evangelical Christians look like intolerant a-holes? Make up your minds, people! You can't have it both ways! And sorry, but many, many people, evangelical or not, are "judgemental and foolish." In fact, maybe every human being on the planet exhibits these traits to one degree or another. Hello! That's exactly why I wanted to see this show!

And what could be more intolerant than to deny my basic civil rights by yanking this series off the air? There was going to be a witch family! Witches! I feel that my taste in the televisual arts is being discriminated against! And it was on regualar broadcast tv, not cable, which I don't have, so it's also discriminating against the poor. Thanks a lot, GLAAD and Family Research Council. Thanks a friggin' lot--for nothing! Argh. Grrr. Grumble grumble...

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A taste of what might have been...Although these aren't the actual witches from the show. Or are they? Now, I'll never know for sure.

Wednesday, June 29, 2005

Stop the Insanity!

Thanks to friend of Felt Up Richard M. for sending me this link to an urgent online petition. The purpose of this petition affects all Americans--perhaps it is equally critical to every man, woman, and child on this, our Planet Earth.

It is addressed to Mr. Steven Spielberg, and begins:
We, the undersigned, wish to inform you that we are compelled to boycott your movie “War of the Worlds”. Our decision is based solely on the abhorrent behavior of Mr. Tom Cruise. We will not be spending our good money to support the ridiculous and potentially dangerous antics of this raving narcissist. Mr. Cruise’s actions and comments have been offensive and insulting when not downright laughable.

To read the rest of--and then, of course, sign--this important petition/"oath of movie chastity," go here. Hurry, before it's too late!

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Oh, my god. Look at this CGI alien created by Spielberg! It's hideous! A MONSTER FROM OUTER SPACE WHO WANTS TO TAKE OVER THE UNIVERSE! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

The Adventures of Superhead, Slut to the Stars!

Yay! A new "tell-all book" by a "video star"/whore is coming out and the previews are in! The cover is kind of amateurish, though:

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The New York Daily News has the high (or low) lights from Karrine "Superhead" Steffans' "Confessions of a Video Vixen":
Widely known as "Superhead" (no doubt because of her large cranium), Steffans doesn't hold back when it comes to dishing about her famous lovers. The video-eye-candy-turned-author claims:

"Shaquille O'Neal "was charmingly self-effacing about his sexual prowess and wanted to reduce my expectations," she writes. But "compared to other men," she assures readers, "he was nothing to complain about." She says that Shaq was so impressed with Steffans that, the day after meeting her, he deposited $10,000 into her bank account.

A small part in "A Man Apart" allowed Steffans to discover that star
Vin Diesel was "a beautiful man ... blessed with an enviable eight-pack and an even more enviable [bleep]."

After hearing so much about Fred Durst's stature, she gushed, "to actually hold him ... felt like a privilege."

Sex with "insatiable" producer Irv Gotti "became more like a boxing match." During their affair, Steffans claims, Gotti lent her to his friends as he saw fit.

After inviting her to his home at 4 a.m., Sean (P. Diddy) Combs kicked his manservant Fonzworth Bentley out of a guest bedroom so he and Steffans could spend 15 minutes making love. "You're one of the best," she says P. Diddy told her. Steffans writes: "I said the same to him, when, in actuality, he was average." Ouch.

Steffans says she got around to Whitney Houston's husband, Bobby Brown, in late 2002. Steffans says she never saw him do drugs. But she worried for his mental health during a frantic encounter where "he told me he was a member of Al Qaeda and that President Bush was looking for him."

She made Ja Rule promise to "always come back." But after he slipped out one morning before she woke up, "I looked around for something to take with me, something that would smell like him but wouldn't be missed. On the floor I found a balled-up sock, and I placed it to my face and got the fix I was searching for." Sniff.

Steffans also tells the whole story of her back-of-the-limo tryst with Usher.

OK, there's a lot of dense information presented here, so I'm going to try and break this down into a simple declarative sentence we can all understand: Superhead Steffans is craaaaaaaaaazy!

Doing it with Fred Durst was "a privilege"? She took Ja Rule's smelly sock as a sexual memento? She had sex with Bobby Brown? And P. Diddy? (How rude that poor Fonzworth Bentley didn't even get to stick around for the sexcapades! All that umbrella holding for P. Diddy and he's cast aside like yesterday's ascot. Very sad.) I shudder at these thoughts. I want them removed from my head! Where's an e-meter when you really need one?

I think even Tom Cruise would say this woman needs psychiatric help. OK, maybe not Tom Cruise, but probably Brooke Shields! The only person on her hit parade who doesn't make me want to vomit is Vin Diesel, although I'm not quite sure what his "bleep" is or why it is so enviable. Why must the Daily News be so coy?

And you know what the kicker is? I found a picture of Superhead on the internets, and she's not even very cute!

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See what I mean? I guess stars will take whatever they can get, just like everybody else...

Aliens in the Universe and At The Gym

Now this is just plain silly. CNN is running a "top story" that:
Hollywood actor Tom Cruise not only battles creatures from outer space in his latest film "War of the Worlds", he also believes aliens exist, he told a German newspaper on Wednesday.

Asked in an interview with the tabloid daily Bild if he believed in aliens, Cruise said: "Yes, of course. Are you really so arrogant as to believe we are alone in this universe?

"Millions of stars, and we're supposed to be the only living creatures? No, there are many things out there, we just don't know," Cruise, 42, said in the interview published in German.

Those crazy Krauts! Asking a Scientologist whether they believe in aliens is like asking a Roman Catholic if the pope s**ts in the woods: Offensive, overly easy, and hysterically funny! Of course, if the Scientologists weren't so damn secretive about their "religion," then poor German reporters wouldn't have to ask such obvious questions. Not that there's anything wrong with Scientology, once again!

(I want to live! Please don't hurt me, Scientologists, or my family, I beg you! Aliens? Sure, I'm not so arrogant as to believe we are alone in this universe! Aliens implanted bad thoughts in my soul? Of course! An alien named Xenu once ruled the galaxy and opressed free spirtis? Duh! How could any sane person be so arrogant as to not believe that? Makes sense to me! BECAUSE I WANT TO LIVE TO SEE ANOTHER DAY!)

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In other unsurpsing non-news, is reporting that Lindsay Lohan collapsed during a workout, probably due to an excess of youthful vitality and energy:
Super-skinny star Lindsay Lohan prompted yet more fears for her health after she reportedly collapsed at her LA gym.

The "Mean Girls" star was halfway through an hour-long spinning sesh when she became pale and began gasping for breath.

She stumbled off her bike and then collapsed, say Heat magazine.

"Everybody was shocked," one witness said.

"Lindsay wasn't moving and she appeared to be unconscious."

Thankfully her quick-thinking gym partner Kimberly Stewart and staff at the LA's Body and Soul gym soon brought her around.

The drama ended after a few minutes, when a pale and woozy Lindsay assured onlookers she was fine.

But the incident has sparked fears that her fitness regime was dangerous for her health.

In the last six months, the Freaky Friday star has been losing weight dramatically.

Wow. That is just soooooo L.A.: Working out in an hour-long "spinning sesh" with Jennifer Aniston-basher Kimberly Stewart (really, Ms. Stewart, the person with the hideous horse face should not cast the first "Jen Anniston is homely" stone, it is rather unseemly) at her side. Yada yada yada health concerns blah blah blah dangerous "fitness regime," whatever. The girl is clearly, obviously, and (I must for my own protection say) allegedly anorexic or on drugs or both, it's that simple!

Get thee to a sandwichry, Miss Lohan! Take a look at yourself!

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Carbs are your friends. Look into it!

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

More News of The Doomed Doherty/Moss Affair

Page Six reported today that supermodel/cypher Kate Moss was briefly "married" to the man his yearbook voted Most Likely To Be Described As "Drug-Addled" in The Press, Pete Doherty, in some sort of acid-trippy hippie faux wedding chapel during the Glastonbury Festival in England:
Kate Moss and Pete Doherty have tied the knot.

But unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your take), the marriage only lasted for the weekend.

The supermodel wed her addiction-challenged beau in the "Chapel of Love & Loathing in Lost Vagueness" at the Glastonbury Music Festival.

The London Sunday Mirror reports Moss was on hand to watch Doherty perform with his band, the Babyshambles, when they got hitched in a ceremony that's only valid for the duration of the festival.

And while there was no time for a honeymoon, the couple danced to George Michael's "Faith" and the Human League's "Tell Me When" at a party thrown by Diesel to celebrate.

Uh, Page Six, I'm pretty sure the band goes by Babyshambles, without the "the," as everyone who is anyone knows by now. Duh. And isn't every day spent with Pete Doherty a kind of honeymoon, really?

God, can you imagine the scene inside the "Chapel of Love & Loathing in Lost Vagueness?" Can you imagine the smells? I envision lots and lots of patchouli, barefoot anorexic drug fiends, Indian print muslin fabric blowin' in the wind, mud, poo, bongwater, possibly a gong but definitely a sitar, lava lamps, more mud and poo, Sienna Miller in full rich-girl boho chic regalia, someone from The Darkness in a spandex jumpsuit, a boa constrictor or python or both, I Ching readings, a spiritual advisor in a kaftan and jeweled headdress, tarot cards, lots of white people with really filthy dreadlocks, peacock feathers, extremely bad body odor pouring off everyone, toddlers with curly hair and dirty diapers, some wee English gnome having a "bad trip" in the corner, yet more mud and poo, a psychedelic lightshow, possibly some kind of lute player drinking from a flagon of mead, and, of course, Shane MacGowan on the verge of collapse. That's the scene that comes to my mind, anyway. I could be completely wrong, of course.

The reception was brief, but fully catered with great panache:

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The happy bride and groom said after the ceremony that they felt "changed" and "more mature," as this photo of the newlyweds bears out:

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Congratulations on your faux rock festival nuptials, you crazy kids!

Monday, June 27, 2005

Goodbye, Mr. Peterson

As a huge fan of all things Bob Newhart-related, and especially of the original '70s "Bob Newhart Show," it brings me great sadness to report the death of character actor John Fiedler, who played Bob's meek, bald-headed patient Mr. Peterson. Fiedler was also the voice of "Piglet" on "Winnie the Pooh," and his death comes just one day after the demise of the actor who voiced Tigger, Paul Winchell. Fiedler appeared in "True Grit," "That Touch of Mink" and "Star Trek" during his long career.

Mr. Peterson was my second-favorite of all Bob's psychiatric patients, next to cranky rug-wearing Mr. Carlin, of course, who was played to perfection by Jack Riley.

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John Fiedler, RIP.

Docs: Cruise Has A Bad Case of "Nutty Nutball-itis"

Maybe everyone is getting tired of all the Cruise-mania of late. But not me! I can't get enough! And now CNN is reporting that the nation's psychiatrists are justly up in arms over Tom Cruise's crazy talk about psychiatry:
The American Psychiatric Association on Monday sharply criticized actor Tom Cruise for televised remarks in which he called psychiatry a "pseudo science" and disputed the value of antidepressant drugs.

"It is irresponsible for Mr. Cruise to use his movie publicity tour to promote his own ideological views and deter people with mental illness from getting the care they need," APA President Dr. Steven Sharfstein said in a statement.

During interviews promoting his latest film, "War of the Worlds," Cruise has discussed his deep skepticism of psychiatry to explain his belief in the teachings of the Church of Scientology, founded by science-fiction writer L. Ron Hubbard.

In one such interview last Friday on NBC's "Today" show, Cruise was asked about his recent criticism of actress Brooke Shields for revealing that she had taken the antidepressant Paxil to cope with postpartum depression.

"Before I was a Scientologist, I never agreed with psychiatry," Cruise said. "And when I started studying the history of psychiatry, I understood more and more why I didn't believe in psychology. ... And I know that psychiatry is a pseudo science."...

The rebuke from the APA, which represents nearly 36,000 physicians specializing in the diagnosis and treatment of mental illness, challenged Cruise's assertion that psychiatry lacks scientific merit.

"Rigorous, published, peer-reviewed research clearly demonstrates that treatment (of mental illness) works," the APA statement said. "It is unfortunate that in the face of this remarkable scientific and clinical progress that a small number of individuals and groups persist in questioning its legitimacy."

Funny, I just noticed that Cruise uses "psychiatry" interchangably with "psychology" in his Matt Lauer interview/verbal slugfest, and there is a difference, Mr. Expert on All Things Brain-Related, I'll have you know.

From Psych Central, I offer up a little refresher course to The Cruise Missile:
Psychiatrists are medical doctors and may prescribe drugs. Psychology is the broader study of behaviour and thought processes not just in the context of mental health. Clinical psychologists specialize in mental health and have extensive training in therapy and psychological testing. They do not usually prescribe drugs.

So there, Mr. I Know Everything About Everything Because I'm A Level OT VII, or whatever the hell it's called. Get your facts straight, you kook!

What I am most interested in seeing is whether or not all this quackery on the part of the T-man is going to have any effect on the success of the "War of the Worlds" and on his career in general. Probably not on the movie, since it's by Spielberg and lots of stuff gets blown up and whatnot, but this the Beginning of the End for T.C.? Will his vise-like grip on superstardom end in mockery, shame, and humiliation? Will he have nothing to fall back on but his "religion" (and, uh, his millions of dollars)? Ooooh, let's wait and see!

Check out a funny Star Wars-related "Cruise Attacks Oprah" animated gif at Chepo's delightful site.

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Crackpots Unite! (via Salon)

Not that there's anything wrong with Scientologists, oh no! (Just in case any of 'em out there are monitoring this page and are contemplating sending "anti-suppressors" to have me "taken out." ) I want to live, dammit! LIIIIIIIVE!

I'm getting just the teensiest paranoid about these people. They scare the crap out of me! They are taking over the world. Chick Corea! Greta Van Susteren! Kirstie Alley!

Kirstie Alley!

Separated At Birth?

Is it just me, or does the "BTK Killer" bear an alarming resemblance to annoyingly obsequious "Inside the Actor's Studio" host James Lipton?

I'll let you be the judge:

Dennis "BTK" Rader...
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(via CNN)

...and his possible long-lost twin James Lipton.
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(via The Corsair, who rather amusingly named the image file "ass.gif.")

Eh, eh? Am I crazy? Or am I crazy like a fox?

It Will Not Speak to Elton Unless It Is Spoken To!

Elton John has finally finished the long process of tranforming himself from an average, every-day, run-of-the-mill, multi-billionaire, show-biz queen to an actual member of British royalty, at least in his own mind.

According to Jeannette Walls' Scoop column on MSNBC:
Elton John’s party guests were stunned when they were told that they were not to speak to the Rocket Man unless spoken to.

While stars often stipulate that co-workers on movie sets or the staff of shows where they’re being interviewed are not allowed to look at or speak to them, the request from the increasingly prickly pianist to fellow partiers struck many as bizarre.

“Elton is obviously a star but this is bordering on paranoia,” a source told the Daily Mirror of London. “He is acting like old-fashioned royalty, or some tinpot dictator.”

The musician, who made headlines when he clashed with Madonna, George Michael, and paparazzi, hosted the annual White Tie and Tiara party at his Windsor mansion in England.

“I was staggered when I was told not to approach Elton,” one guest was quoted as saying in the Daily Telegraph of Australia. “To be honest it is absurd. I have been to the White Tie party in previous years and all the guests mingled very informally.”

Well, gee, I don't know that this is so bad. Is it wrong to act like "some tinpot dictator?" I myself often throw little impromptu black-tie events at Felt Up headquarters, and nothing is more likely to make me quiver in a violent rage than having some lowly guest begin speaking to me whilst I'm adjusting my tiara. It is simply intolerable! So I have to go with Elton on this one.

Peons of the world: Know your place in the pecking order! And just because you are "invited" to the party, that doesn't give you special priveleges to speak to your host, when that host is Her Majesty, Queen Elton of John (or Queen Felt Up of Blogger, for that matter)! You have been warned!

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"Let them eat pancake make-up!"

Masters of the Universe

Salon is running the first in a four-part series about Scientology this weekend, and naturally it begins with a look at the Crisis of the Cruise. I'm not sure if non-premium members can access the above link, so if you have trouble, email me and I can cut and paste it back to you.

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If you are at all interested in Scientology, it's worth the read. This first article argues that one of the reasons Tom Cruise has become, shall we say, more vocal about his religion of late, is that he has finally, after 20 years, reached a very high level in the hierarchy of the religion:
The buzz in some Scientology circles is that Cruise may have reached one of the highest echelons of the Church of Scientology. While not a lot is known about this level, known cryptically as OT-VII, Scientology observers say that attaining it could explain Cruise's behavior in recent months.

Salon spoke with current and ex-members (who all spoke under condition of anonymity, due to what I assume is their fear that they will be tried and sentenced to death in some kind of Scientologist Star Chamber for revealing some of the church's secrets), and also with Stephen Kent, "a professor of sociology at the University of Alberta who has published articles on Scientology and Hollywood." Kent said that "Cruise's behavior strongly suggests OT-VII":
Cruise is acting as though he "feels he's more in control over his environment and can convince more people to look into the organization," Kent said. "In the high OT levels one supposedly gains the skills to master one's universe. One is removing countless entities that have been holding people back. Cruise feels that he has freed himself from thousands of errant thetans, and he seems to be in a kind of euphoria he hasn't experienced before."

"A kind of euphoria?" How about "a kind of insanity?" He thinks he can master his universe? Ye gads, man! You can't even master a convincing heterosexual relationship and you think you can master the universe? This is some serious horse crap. Tom Cruise is starting to make Shirley "I Was A Cat in My Previous Life" MacLaine look like a wise, practical (non-Asian) Confucius-type sage.

The Salon piece also mentions that Beck, jazz fusion musician Chick Corea, and the truly frightening CNN personality Greta Van Susteren are all Scientologists, too, which I wasn't aware of. AAAAAAAAAAH! This is all starting to creep me out! I mean, Jesus H. Christ: Chick Corea!

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And look, look! I went to the official Chick Corea website and found this:

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It's some kind of jazz fusion Scientologist-themed record! It's the exact same cover art of the L. Ron Hubbard book I posted last week!

Jazz fusion Scientology!




Sunday, June 26, 2005

Working Girls

Now this is what I'm talking about! In these times of publicist/Scientoloist-controlled spin-mania, when every celeb is led by hand through public events like lost children at the town fair, with a receiver in their ear telling them what pablum they need to spout to the masses about their Vera Wang gowns, it is downright refreshing to hear of a bona-fide nutty nutball whose last name is not Cruise pulling an Anne Heche or a Margot Kidder! And not too surprisingly, the dazed-n-confused thespian in question is none other than Melanie Griffith! Yay, Melanie!

Page Six reports with glee that:
Spacey Melanie Griffith has been in Toronto for the past six weeks, but the other day she was wandering around in a daze like a homeless person trying to find her hotel.

Canada's National Post reports Griffith asked a passerby, "Can you tell me how to get to the Windsor Arms?"

The stranger repeated the simple directions several times. Griffith finally made it over to Bloor Street, where the hotel is located, but turned the wrong way.

By then a small herd of curiosity-seekers were following in her wake, and one was kind enough to call the Windsor Arms.

The hotel quickly dispatched someone to lead the actress home, the paper reports.

Griffith, who's set to star in a new WB show called "Twins" this fall, is in Toronto while husband Antonio Banderas is filming the musical drama "Take the Lead."

"Melanie asked someone for directions to her hotel as she is unfamiliar with the area," her rep told PAGE SIX. "She got back to the hotel on her own - no one had to come pick her up."

Oh, whatever, we all know that Melanie Griffith is one taco short of a combination plate, and we love her all the more for it! Yippee for wandering around like a confused homeless person, Melanie! Yippee, I say, yippee!

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"Oh, thank God. I found it...I fooooooooooooooooooound the hotel! I. Was. Getting. So. Very. Tired. Wheeeeeeee! I'm Mrs. Antonio Banderas! I think. Or am I? Hello? Where am I? How'd I get here? Who are all these people? Oh, I don't know and I don't care. Wheeeeeeeeeeee!"

There was also an item today about the futher downward shame spiral of one of our nation's formerly squeaky-clean youths. Page Six asks the burning question on a nation's lips:
Did Mary-Kate Olsen have a little too much fun partying with Brit poppers Oasis after their Garden gig the other night?

"When she came out of Oasis' dressing room, she almost crashed into me," our spy reports. "Her big bodyguard had her by the arms ... She was in rough shape."

The bite-sized billionaire, clad in a KISS shirt, denim skirt and cowboy boots, was half-carried into the service elevator and off to the VIP bathroom.

"Whatever the implication is, it's ridiculous," Olsen's rep assures us. "She was just hanging out with the band. Nothing went on whatsoever."

These p.r. hacks are getting on my nerves. "Nothing went on whatsoever" while Mary-Kate Olsen partied with Oasis in their dressing room? Would Ms. Olsen's representative also have us believe that the moon is made of green cheese? That the Earth is flat? Perhaps she has a bridge she can sell us! Let's just say it strains credulity.

Even though Oasis are currently sliding down a very slippery slope towards the "Where Are They Now?" File (or an episode of "Hit Me Baby One More Time"), I'm pretty sure they have not bid a fond adieu to their drunken, debauched, sex-drugs-n-Brit-pop way of life just yet. Nor are they adverse to taking a bedraggled anorexic waif down with them for the ride and sullying her a bit on the way. And thank God for that! Huzzah!

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Saturday, June 25, 2005

Yet Another Reason People Hate The French

There's an insightful and humorous article in the Washington Post about the whole Oprah Was Denied Access to Hermes story that's been causing a big ruckus on both sides of the pond.

For those of you who are not up-to-date, the saga began last week, when Madame Winfrey tried to get into the Hermes boutique in Paris after the store had closed in order to buy a gift for her dinner companion that evening, Ms. Tina Turner. Page Six reported that Oprah had not had her hair "done" (one version of this story floating around made it sound like she was trying to get into their hair salon; does Hermes do hair? Can you get an Hermes spa pedicure, too? What goes on in the world of rich people?) and that someone from the store mentioned "troubles with North Africans lately" and refused her entry. The store denies this vehemently, and in their public apology kind of tried to lay the blame with Oprah for trying to gain access when there was some kind of "private p.r. party" going on inside.

Then Oprah's bff Gayle King said that she witnessed the whole thing, and that people were definitely still shopping inside, and that this was Oprah's "'Crash' moment"--referring, I assume, to the more recent movie of that name, which deals with the complexity of race relations in America, and not the David Cronenberg-directed older film which dealt with people getting kinky sexual thrills from car accidents--and that Oprah has given away at least a dozen coveted $6,000 Hermes Birkin bags as gifts to friends (Note to self: Become a friend of Oprah!), but will never buy one ever again, and hinted that she will devote a whole episode of her show next season to "one of the most humiliating moments" of Oprah's life. (Although, sadly, I swear I remember that this has happened to Oprah before! A while back, at some fancy shop in Manhattan, they refused to open the door when she rang the doorbell because they just saw a "black woman" at their door and were racist snobs who wouldn't let her in, not realizing it was Oprah. Is this an epidemic, not letting black ladies into expensive shops, or am I losing my mind, or both? Did this not happen? I guess I can always check the internets...But I digress.)

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The Washington Post article points out that:
One could argue that perhaps this was simply an example of employees not empowered to be proactive, even for a celebrity who could purchase every watch and handbag in the place and come back the next day for more. (The clerk, by the way, has not been forced to take up with an organ grinder on Boulevard Saint Germain; she remains gainfully employed.) It could be an example of a store treating a wealthy celebrity just like anyone else. It could be a case of rudeness. It could be racism. It could be a complicated blend of all that and more.

The writer, Robin Givhan, also argues that getting into a store--even an elite luxury store such as Hermes--after hours is a privelege and not a basic human right, even for a human as rich and powerful as La Oprah. Whether or not her being black played a part is impossible to say; either way, hell hath no fury like an Oprah scorned, and Hermes has made what may be the biggest p.r. blunder in the history of their very old and tres French company.

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Quelle stupide!


The fallout from Tom Cruise's public descent into madness continues today, as CNN, The New York Times, the New York Daily News and a host of media outlets reported--and commented on--the tension-filled Matt Lauer interview on Friday's "Today" show.

The Daily News was the most outraged at the Cruise Missile's antics, referring to him in their headline as "a pill," and calling him "pompous" and "arrogant," which he totally was, and then getting doctors to rebut his outrageous claims that the modern treatment of mental illness is a "pseudoscience":
Is "War of the Worlds" star Tom Cruise lost in space?

The superstar Scientologist flipped out on the "Today" show yesterday, pompously lecturing Matt Lauer about the evils of psychiatry - and scolding actress Brooke Shields for taking anti-depressants.

"You don't know the history of psychiatry," the actor arrogantly told the newsman. "I do."

Cruise, 42, was on the NBC morning show to talk about his upcoming sci-fi flick and his quickie engagement to ingénue Katie Holmes, 26.

But the interview took a bizarre turn when Lauer questioned Cruise on critical comments he's made about Shields and her memoir about overcoming postpartum depression...

The high school dropout launched into a diatribe about mental illness - calling psychiatry a "pseudoscience" and anti-depressants "very dangerous."

He insisted there's no such thing as a chemical imbalance and argued that mood disorders can be cured with "vitamins, exercise and various things."

He didn't say whether one of those things is Scientology, the religion that says humans are plagued by the souls of dead aliens who invaded the planet 75 million years ago...

Dr. Margaret Spinelli of the New York Psychiatric Institute's maternal mental health program said, "science at every level" has demonstrated that postpartum depression stems from a chemical imbalance that medication can correct in 80% of the cases.

"Brooke Shields did a great service for women by writing the book and talking about her illness," Spinelli said. "She should be getting praise, not pushed down for it."

Heh. They are so snarky to point out that T.C. is a high-school dropout. And I love how a person who has given over his life--and now, perhaps, his career--to a "psuedo-religion" like Scientology has the gall to call psychiatry a "pseudoscience."

I also agree heartily with Dr. Margeret Spinelli that Cruise is big ole beyotch for making disparaging remarks about Brooke Shields' post-partum depression treatment. Hey Tommy Boy, do you really think someone like Andrea Yates (the Texas woman who drowned all five of her children in the midst of post-partum depression) would have benefitted more from vitamins, exercise, and e-meter readings than from some serious anti-depressants? I guess you really do, you jerk. The thought that your asinine beliefs might contribute to further demonizing this disease makes me sick. If memory serves, Yates, too, came from a highly religious family that "didn't believe" in psychiatric treatment and/or brain drugs. God, I'm really beginning to despise Tom Cruise!

Interestingly, the NY Times seemed to find the C-Man's remarks "enjoyably bracing" and full of "candor." Have I mentioned that I sometimes hate the NY Times? Here's the take of their writer Alessandra Stanley:
So that's what Tom Cruise really looks like.

He is a passionate, stubborn, true believer, who can lecture Matt Lauer about the perils of Ritalin, psychiatry and talk-show-host glibness.

Whatever else it may do - or undo - for the movie star, Mr. Cruise's off-message, antidrug performance on "Today" yesterday on NBC cleared up one misconception about L. Ron Hubbard's mysterious church: Scientology does not command loyalty from celebrities by protecting their privacy and whitewashing their image.

Mr. Cruise seemed unbound, and perhaps even a little unsound, but there was something enjoyably bracing and bold about his outburst. It was as jarring as his crazy-in-love ode to the actress Katie Holmes on Oprah Winfrey's show last month, and that was perhaps the most e-mailed video clip since the Howard Dean Scream. But this latest display of kookiness lent the actor new credibility: his over-the-top declarations of love may look to some like a publicity stunt, but there was nothing self-serving or career-enhancing about his rant with Mr. Lauer...

And, actually, he had a point. Morning talk show hosts are facile and heavily scripted, and too often they recite streams of perceived wisdom as if they were undeniable facts. Mr. Lauer showed grace but not much intellectual skill as he was out-debated by a Hollywood actor who described psychiatry as a pseudoscience and said vitamins and exercise could cure postpartum depression.

But Mr. Lauer was also lucky. Mr. Cruise provided exactly what talk show hosts are supposed to elicit from celebrity guests and so rarely do: sincerity..."

Oh, for f**k's sake! My God, Ms. Stanley, you certainly have a different veiwpoint on this public display of pomposity and dangerously Luddite-like insanity than anyone else I've talked to or read about. Yes, it was interesting to see a top-level--perhaps the top-level--superstar of our day (he was voted "Greatest Living Movie Star" by Premiere magazine recently, which must be fabulous news to Elizabeth Taylor, Robert Redford, Jack Nicholson, and Paul Newman, among many other older, better greats) veer off-message and really speak his mind. It's just that his mind is the size of a peanut, and what an ugly, deformed, crazy lil' peanut it is!

I also don't think his strenuous argument that he knows a better way to treat mental illness gives him more "credibility." Yes, you're right, he doesn't seem to be self-serving--he seems to have lost his tiny peanut-sized mind! It does show that he doesn't seem to give a crap about his vaunted career as much as he used to, but that does not mean he's "credible." J'accuse, Ms. Alessandra Stanley, j'accuse! You are giving validation to the rantings and ravings of a lunatic. A luuuuuuuunatic! You should be ashamed of yourself. You, too, NY Times, for printing her crappy article and giving it even a semblance of respectability. For shame!

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(via China Daily. Yes, everyone around the globe is freaking out about the Cruise!)

And now for something to take your mind off of this whole fiasco! Page Six reports that Dave Chapelle opened his act at a Dayton, Ohio comedy club with this line:

"I'm the only missing black guy they've ever looked for."

You know, I think he may be right! Sigh. Giggle, giggle. Sigh.

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"Yes, I killed them, and I hope they burn in hell! I'm Samuel L. Jackson!"

Friday, June 24, 2005

Tracking The Decline Of Western Civilization Via Google Searches

Since I started this humble blog a year and a half or so ago, I have made it a habit (some might call it a mild form of obsessive-compulsive disorder) to check my tracking stats on a daily (sometimes hourly) basis. Through my beloved Extreme Tracker, I can find out which web pages are referring to me the most (, Sublime Stitching, Beetsolonely, WOW Report--Holla!), and, most interestingly, which Google searches have led the world wide webbers out there to Felt Up. So I am proud to present A Short History of Our Celebrity-Obsessed Popular Culture, As Seen Through Felt Up Google Search Queries! (Apologies to long-time Felt Up readers, as I have gone over some of this "research" before.)

The first big Google search phrase to jack up my daily hits was "anorexic pride bracelet," right around the time Felt Up abruptly morphed from a felt-craft/Corgi dog blog into the snarkfest that it is now. The story which prompted the "ana pride" search explosion was about Mary-Kate Olsen, naturally, and the rumor that she wore a string bracelet which was supposedly a secret clue to the 'tweens of the world that she was "proud" of having an eating disorder. (There were apparently vari-colored bracelets denoting "bulimic pride," "laxative-abuse pride," etc. What is going on in the junior high schools of America? Nothin' good, I fear, nothin' good.)

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Then there was the now-legendary Tara Reid Red Carpet Nip Slip Incident. The day I posted a link--a mere link!--to a photo of her famous fully-exposed boob was the highest number of hits in the history of Felt Up up until that point. I think the visits went up something like 900% on that day.

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The boobie shot that changed a blog, and, perhaps, the world.

But that number was paltry compared to the Amy Lumet Google frenzy. I was live-blogging this year's Oscar ceremony, and when they did the tribute to director Sidney Lumet, the camera lingered lovingly on a beautiful woman in the audience identified as "Amy Lumet." The one billion people around the globe who watched along with me asked a single question: "Who Is This Amy Lumet Person And Why Haven't We Ever Seen Her Ginormous Fake Boobs Until Now?" I searched and searched the internets to find a) her relationship to Sidney Lumet (she is one of his daughters with the always-gorgeous Lena Horne and b) a recent photo of her; the day I posted it still stands as the most hits ever in one day of Felt Up. More people wanted a look at her two covered fake boobs than Tara Reid's one completely exposed fake boob. Go figure! I still get tons of hits from "Amy Lumet" searches!

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Amy! O, how we long to know more about you and your boobs! AAAAAAAMY!

Right now, and for the last couple of days, the big Google search phrase is "Butterscotch Stallion." Heh.

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What will the future bring? Only time, and maybe Ton Cruise's E-Meter, will tell...

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Dude! I just noticed that the name at the bottom of the E-Meter is "Cruising Equipment Company"! Is that for real? What in the name of all things holy is going on?

Ritalin Me This, Ritalin Me That

OK, I need some cheering up after that last post, so here's some more non-news from the "Tom Cruise Gets Nuttier Every Single Day" File, yay!

Apparently the Cruise Missile got into a verbal tussle with Matt Lauer on the "Today" show this morning. Gawker has a play-by-play, and I "borrowed" a bit of it here.

Their conversation--which started off bad and quickly escalated to unbearably tense--really got ugly when Matt questioned the man who puts the Tom into TomKat (or would if he wasn't allegedly gayer than a Quentin Crisp/Liberace sandwich) about the effectiveness and/or validity of drugs such as Ritalin:
M: But aren’t there examples where it works?
T: You don’t even know what Ritalin is! If you read the papers on how they came up with the drug, the dosage… You should be more responsible in knowing what it is. I am responsible. I know these things.
M: You’re saying that you know how it affected people you don’t know, but I do? You’re now telling me that what has and hasn’t worked for people I know, and I’m telling you I lived with these people and I saw an improvement.
T: So you’re advocating?
M: No, I’m not. I’m just saying that in their individual cases, it helped them… We could go in circles on this matter. But do you want more people to understand Scientology? Is that a goal of yours?
T: Of course. And I don’t talk about things I don’t understand.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, what a tool Tom Cruise is! So pompous and holier-than-thou and superior! I take back what I said before about him seeming like a "nice enough fellow," I retract it, I say, retract retract retract! How dare he tell Matt Lauer, who seems to be speaking from experience, that he should be "more responsible in knowing what" Ritalin is?

AAAAAAAAH! Run for your life, everyone! Tom Cruise is determined to take our brain drugs away from all of us thetans! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

He could do it, too. He could! He has the means, the motive, and the access to Oprah. Oprah, man. Oprah. Think about it!

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Poor Matt Lauer, having to talk "serious issues" in the wee hours of the 'morn with craaaaaaaaaaazy Cruise. Look at Tom's body language--he's out for blood! Tom Cruise is made of peeeeeeeeeeeople!(photo via Gawker)

Apparently today's "Today" interview was just part one; the second half will be shown on Monday. Maybe Tom and Matt will have a bitch-slap contest over the effectiveness of Prozac! We'll have to wait and see...what Gawker says happened. No way can I get up that early! Not without some serious "medication," at least. Mwah ha ha...

The End of an Era

Incredibly sad news today from San Antonio that Ramiro "Ram" Albert Ayala, the owner of famed local bar, club, and institution Tacoland, was fatally shot last night inside the place of business that he created in 1965. The San Antonio Express-News reported that:
Details of the shooting were sketchy, but San Antonio Police Department Sgt. Matt Podwika said two men were inside the bar when words were exchanged and at least one of the men opened fire.

"We don't know exactly what was said between (the victims) and the suspects," he said.

Ayala was taken to Brooke Army Medical Center with a wound to the left side of the chest. A 40-year-old woman who was shot in her abdomen, and a 54-year-old man shot in the side, were taken to University Hospital, according to Podwika.

It appears the two suspects fled in an unknown vehicle with the money in the bar's cash register, the sergeant said.

Anyone who has ever been to Tacoland has fond memories of the foul-mouthed Ram shouting good-natured, friendly obscenities at his friends--and everyone was his friend, even if they were there for the very first time. He was a true character, and if there was ever a bar with "character," it would be Tacoland: The outdoor beer garden/patio with picnic tables and a gigantic tree that dwarfed all the other trees and was difficult to move around; the cheap, cold beer; the dark main building with the almost frighteningly low ceilings and the loudest sound system ever created, and all the ram-related paraphranalia covering the walls; and, of course, Ram himself behind the counter, yelling "P***ies!" at everyone within earshot--it all made for a unique and unforgettable experience. It was one of those places that could only exist in San Antonio, Texas, and it was a great place because of Ram.

A little bit of the heart and soul of San Antonio is gone now, and it is a terrible loss for all of us, everywhere.

Thursday, June 23, 2005

TomKat on Oprah: The Second Coming

I finally saw the Tom Cruise Goes Bat S**T Crazy episode of "Oprah," which they replayed today, no doubt due to popular demand. Up until now, I'd only read about this classic moment in the televisual arts. I'm going to have to take a few minutes and gather my thoughts, such as they are...

...OK! I'm back! Now, first of all, I have to say that I feel like a cynical, mean-spirited, killjoy for what I'm about to say; but since I am, in fact, a cynical, mean-spirited killjoy, that's really only to be expected. I actually would like nothing more than to believe that a person who has done me no harm, who, quite on the contrary, has provided me with a few rare, fleeting moments of pleasure in my life--such as the classic underpants-clad "Old Time Rock-n-Roll" scene in "Risky Business" and the super-special cameo in the third "Austin Powers" movie--is actually as in love and filled with joy as he claims. For Tom Cruise deserves happiness just as much as the next person, I suppose. He's not Adolf Hitler. He's not Pol Pot. He's not Carrot Top. Tom seems like a nice enough fellow; a Scientology-crazed, insanely rich and powerful fellow, but a nice one all the same, as far as we know.

But as much as I'd heard about his antics on "Oprah," it was quite stunning to actually witness this spectacle unfold before my eyes. The man didn't just jump on the couch or crouch down on one knee and hit the floor with his fist once or twice--he did these things approximately fifty times in the first 15 minutes of the show. Which, ok, fine, I get it, he's in love; Katie Holmes is the most fascinating and admirable and beautiful 26-year-old on the planet; he's verrrrrrrrrry hap-hap-happy; and yet....And yet it was all so incredibly weird! So unseemly! So bizarre! So he-doth-protest-too-much! At one point, I swear Oprah was getting a little afraid; she kind of moved as far away from him on the couch as she possibly could. He was a man posessed. She kept repeating over and over, in full Sassy Oprah-mode, "This boy is gone. He's just gone." And she was right. He is gone.

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Oprah tries to get away...but is pulled back by the Dark Side of the Cruise. (via Defamer)

What bothered me the most was that he kept saying that he has never, ever felt like this before in his whole life--which must be great for his children to hear, that their dad never loved their mom Nicole "I'm Botoxing As Fast As I Can" Kidman like he does Katie Holmes. (An interesting point on the show came when Oprah asked him about having a bi-racial son, which as far as I know, no one has ever dared bring up with the Cruise Missile before. Since she's Oprah, she got away with it. His answer was that color has no meaning to him and that he and his son have never talked about it and that "we're all in this together," to much applause. All of which was kind of sweet, if slightly awkward. I wish she'd gone whole hog and asked him if his son had been conceived in a petrie dish or if they paid someone to go with the turkey baster/David Crosby--or in this case, Quincy Jones--option. That's what the world really wants to know about, not all this giddy-in-love crap.)

The C-man repeatedly said that he doesn't "play games," and that he's "straight, a very straight guy"--as in "straight-shooter," but he was obviously trying to use subliminal messages to plant the "100% not gay" idea into our brains, just in case the couch-jumping, fist-pumping, yelling, hugging, and crouching on one knee while pounding the floor was not enough to convince us. Which it was not.

The ostensible point of the show was to plug "The War of the Worlds" release, which ended up taking up about 1/50th of the show. The rest was all "Kate's an extraordinairy woman," "She really cares about others," and, most especially, "I'm a straight, straight, super-straight, none-more-straight-than-me, 100% not-gay, manly man." Oprah got him to admit that they "met" via his calling and setting up an appointment with her. How romantic: His people called her people and they had a meeting! (He failed to mention the less-successful alleged "auditions" with Scarlett "Harlot" Johanson and Jessica "Everyone in Hollywood Says J-Lo Is a Fat Pig" Alba.) Oprah kept saying, "I've never seen you like this," and you know, Oprah, I don't think anyone has ever seen him like this, because I truly believe he has crossed the line from insanely-driven to plain old insane.

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Insane in the membrane...(insane in the brain!) (via Defamer)

Oh, one more thing: When they finally brought out the most fabulous, wonderful thetan/woman in the world, Katie Holmes was in full cold-sore mode! She kept tilting her head down to hide the hideous red sores on her upper lip! And Tom and Oprah kissed her full on the mouth! Ewww!

Mary Kay Likes The Pink!

Wow. Usually when I check my email and it tells me that an "anonymous" person has posted a comment on Felt Up, I get a queasy, scaredy-cat feeling that when I look at the comment it's going to say something mean and nasty, along the lines of "Your blog sucks!" or "You have no business writing anything! And just because you don't get paid for blogging, that doesn't let you off the hook--you should pay us for having to read that crap!" or "Why are you so mean? TomKat are deeply, deeply in LOVE! You are probably fat and disgusting and bitter." So imagine my relief--nay, perhaps even glee--at reading the following just-posted anonymous comment.

It was posted on an old entry about convicted child lovin' former teacher Mary Kay Letourneau--and it's from a person who used to work at the prison where she was locked up! This is so exciting!
Mary Kay Letourneau was involved with inmate-turned-author Christina Dress in prison. I was an employee at the prison and know all the details about the Dress-Letourneau "LOVE" the wedding and the money. I'm sure Dress is involved in this, too. Vili is just a temporary thing..while the money is coming in. Dress and Letourneau have been in an intimate relationship for years now...and money probably looks good to the newly freed convicts.

They even wrote a book together while in prison...MASS WITH MARY. It doesn't tell about THEIR relationship. Certainly not the sexual which they were caught in the act in prison and taken to segregation (the hole). Nobody really knows the truth. Too bad.

I want to know the truth, o anonymous former prison employee! I want to know about "the hole," and the lesbian love affair that dare not speak its name! I want to know about the "Caged Heat"-type shenanigans that involved America's foremost crazy female teacher/child molester and her sham marriage to Vili! This is all so tantalizing, Anonymous! Can any of this be true? It certainly sounds plausible!

And thanks for not saying anything about me being a bitter old hag who lives a life devoid of love, or anything like that. I appreciate it!

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WARNING: The Bottom of This Post May Not Be Safe For Work!

Well, I'm back from San Antonio, and boy is my face red. Apparently, the Alamo doesn't have a basement! Dammit!

But luckily there is a veritable smorgasbord of non-news today to get my mind off of my beloved lost bicycle. Most of it comes from Page Six, naturally.

First up, it's TomKat time! The Page Sixers report that:

Katie Holmes
may have alienated all of her longtime best friends but she's still trying to keep her parents in the loop — for now. On Tuesday, Holmes and alien-fighting fiance Tom Cruise flew into town and holed up in the Carlyle.

"They have a huge suite and his mom and sister [his spokeswoman Lee Anne DeVette] are there and her parents are there. It's kind of a 'get to know you before the kids get married' session," said our source.

Holmes' parents — who are said to be a little weirded out by Holmes' new devotion to Scientology — might be more at ease after meeting Cruise's family.

Oh, yes, nothing like meeting Tom Cruise's entirely brainwashed, 100% Scientologist family to set the parents' minds at ease that their formerly semi-normal-for-an-actress/good Catholic daughter is about to become the legally-wedded beard to an allegedly gay movie star/psycho who believes that humans are actually immortal beings called "thetans" and that there was once an evil galactic overlord named Xenu who oppressed free spirits with science fiction-like tactics during the time the Earth was known as Teegeeack. Yep, a few dinners with incredibly normal, down-to-earth "anti-suppressor" sis Lee Anne at the Carlyle Hotel, and the Holmes family's worries will surely be eased. Or, at least, go unreported. Perhaps this copy of To The Stars by L. Ron Hubbard will also go a long way towards making them feel better:

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It's about stars--both kinds!

(A program note: Friend of Felt Up Terri R. has informed me that the infamous "I love this woman!" episode of "Oprah"--where Tom Cruise finally showed the world how crazy he really is--will be re-shown today, at least in Austin, at 4 pm, Central time. Check your local listings! Must-see tv! Everyone in America should simply leave work immediately and organize impromptu Sofa Jumping Parties across the nation!)

On the Hohan front, we have word from the Coast that all is not peachy with the rapidly-disappearing alleged herpes-spreader and her cute new movie. Also from Page Six:
Disney is not being very nice to one of its most bankable stars.

Lindsay Lohan — who has been in the Mouse House's stable since she was 11, making the studio millions in such movies as "Freaky Friday" and "The Parent Trap" — was taken off posters for her latest picture, "Herbie: Fully Loaded." And the song she did for the flick's big racing scene was banished to the very end.

To make matters worse, the changes were made without giving Lohan any notice.

An insider says: "The original poster of the movie was basically of Lindsay — it was a huge picture of her and the car was in the background. But because she dyed her hair blond and lost a drastic amount of weight, the posters started to look dated.

"Disney needed to do something because it made them look silly — having a poster for the movie of a big, busty redheaded Lindsay when she's now a blond twig. So they hastily sent out new posters — one is just of the car, and another is of the car with a tiny, tiny Lindsay and cast members off to the side."

But the new posters apparently didn't bother Lohan as much as the switcheroo with her song. The tune "First" was supposed to be heard during the racing scene, but is now played over the final credits.

After a screening in Hollywood on Sunday, Lohan stomped out of the El Capitan Theater, and according to wire reports huffed, "I am so [angry]!" She was then herded into a bathroom for 12 minutes to calm down.

Lohan later said: "I was upset when I didn't hear my song during the race scene . . . I was like, 'Whoaaa,' because nobody stays to hear the song in the closing credits. So I ran out."

Yeeeesssss, she ran to the bathroom for 12 minutes to calm her nerves, right right. Poor thing. She's a little confused. Note to Linds: La cocaina is not the best thing for soothing oneself when one is "upset." Although, to be fair, it will take your egomaniacal tendencies and turn them into a Godzilla-like monster who demands its song be heard in the all-important racing scene instead of merely over the credits which list the names of all those unimportant little crew people who no one in the audience cares about at all. So, that's sort of a plus. Besides the massive, dangerous weight-loss, the destruction of your youthful good looks, and the eradication of your very soul, I mean.

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Lindzilla! AAAAAAAAAAH! Run for your lives, little people!

I had actually been wondering about the tv commercials that I've seen for "Herbie/Herpie: Fully Loaded" because they all seem to be pushing the Love Bug known as Herbie instead of the love-bug carrier known as Herpie Hohan. The few glimpses you see of her are rather shocking, since she is now unrecognizable as the red-haired, busty, freckly-faced teen who charmed us all in "Mean Girls." Poor, poor Disney. Stuck with promoting the car! Just like they did with the original! Oh, how I loved that movie when I was a kid. (My god, I am old. I'm an old, old woman. Sigh.)

Onward and downward! Page Six continues it's run of top-notch non-news with this lil' nuggget about Our Favorite Doomed Couple!
Kate Moss' hot and heavy romance with druggie rocker Pete Doherty has put her best friend Sadie Frost's nose out of joint.

Frost banned Doherty from her 40th birthday party in London the other night, and, adding insult to injury, invited Doherty's ex, Lisa Moorish, the mother of his child.

The London Mirror reports Moss, already steamed at the snub, went ballistic when she bumped into Moorish at the bash, fuming, "I don't want to be anywhere near that woman!"

Meanwhile, Elton John has offered to help Doherty kick his heroin and crack habit, saying he's welcome to stay over any time.

Awww, how sweet! Good ole Elton, offering to let a troubled, sexually-ambiguous young slight-of-frame lad "stay over." He's got a heart of gold, Elton, pure gold! But seriously, ladies and germs, how awesome is craaaaazy actress/underpants-designer Sadie "Ex-Wife of Jude Law" Frost? She's totally trying to throw a wrench into those star-crossed lovahs' best-laid, drug-induced plans of impending holy, sacred matrimony--and who could blame her? Although I really, really, really want these nuptials to take place. I wouldn't miss that fiasco for the world! I can see it now: Shane MacGowan will perfom the ceremony, which due to excessive slurring will later be rendered invalid by a court of law...oh, I could go on and on, but I don't want to ruin the surprise. Let's just say that I have it on very good authority that Naomi Campbell will be burned in effigy and still be the Maid of Honor! And everyone involved will be high as kites. And very, very thin. And possibly crazy.

Oddly, while there are a million photos of the lesser-known Doherty out there on the internets...

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...there are very, very few images available of Kate Moss. Odd, that! She is just not out in the public eye enough, I guess. Here's the closest I could get, an artist's rendering:

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Speaking of weight issues, the following tidbit from Page Six is not for the easily-angered, such as myself, who flew into a violent rage upon reading it the first time:
Publicist Andy Morris has come up with a surefire way to generate buzz for tonight's party for Abby Ellin's new book about fat kids, "Teenage Waistland" — subjecting overweight celebrities to public ridicule.

Morris has invited bulky boldfacers Monica Lewinksy, Delta Burke, Emme and Wendy "The Snapple Lady" Kaufman (what, no Star Jones?), and mandated that all guests weigh themselves on a scale before entering.

If that's too subtle for you, consider that the fattie-themed fete, held at Morris' downtown office, will be catered with Krispy Kreme donuts, eclairs and tarts.

Gee, I bet Monica, Delta, Emme, and Wendy couldn't wait to rush down to that "fattie fete" and stuff their faces with donuts after being publicly weighed/humiliated! They were probably so psyched to get that invite. What a tasteful and sincere gentleman this publicist Andy Morris must be! Three cheers for sending a wonderfully empowering, positive, healthy message about being happy with your body to the teens of America: Hip hippo hooray! Hip hippo hooray! Hip hippo hurray!

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While we're on the subject of "hip," Jeannette Walls' Scoop column on tells us that we should definitely not:
Expect Noel Gallagher to record a hip-hop album. “I despise hip-hop,” the Oasis frontman said in the London Times. “Loathe it. Eminem is an idiot and I find 50 Cent the most distasteful character I have ever crossed in my life.”

Hmmm. I guess I don't have much to say about this statement of Mr. Gallagher's except to point out that no one on God's green earth gives a flying f*** what Noel Gallagher records anymore. I must say though, that I, for one, am rather sad that we as humans have been denied the Great Oasis Hip-Hop/Rap Album That Never Was.

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Just in case you change your mind, Noel. Just in case!

In other Gallagher news, snarky Popbitch relates this too-good-to-be-true-therefore-maybe-it-is story. Apparently Noel Gallagher told the Observer last weekend that his brother Liam:
Was a huge fan of "Spinal Tap." But he thought they were a real band. He was horrified to discover the same actors performing as "A Mighty Wind" at Carnegie Hall a few years back and, when Noel told him the bad news, shouted "I'm not 'avin' that", and stormed off. And has never watched the film again.

On the bright side, Oasis' amps still go to 11. And the band has yet to trod on dwarves. Yet.

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OK. We're down to the final non-news item of the day! And in case you are the type who ignores blog post titles, I issue another warning: At the very bottom of this post is a photo montage that may not be considered safe for work.

Anyway, this is from my busting-at-the-seams "The Many Reasons I Despise Greta Scacchi" File. Greta, for those of you who may have tried to forget, was best known for being the slutty blonde murdered lawyer in "Presumed Innocent," the slutty blonde Icelandic artist in "The Player," and the slutty blonde slut in "White Mischief." She has always just rubbed me the wrong way. And, apparently, she herself was rubbed the wrong way by a parade of actors, according to Ms. Walls in The Scoop:
Greta Scacchi says she stopped playing the babe in movies after a love scene with Tom Berenger in “Shattered” because she was tired of being mounted by leading hunks. “There I was, in the missionary position, with the fourth famous actor in six months on top of me — Harrison Ford, Vincent D’Onofrio, Jimmy Smits, now Tom Berenger,” Scacchi told Australian Magazine, “and I’m thinking, ‘I just can’t do this any more.’”

Yes, that is a tragic tale, Greta. Being forced to be in high-profile major motion pictures while being pawed, yes pawed, by the likes of Harrison Ford and Jimmy Smits--it's just too terrible for words. This horror story is like the atrocities in Rwanda or Serbia--why didn't we do something to help her? Why didn't someone rescue this poor woman from her awful fate? She ended up marrying Vincent D'Onofrio, for god's sake, and we, the Brotherhood of Man, just stood idly by and let it happen. It will hang on our heads forever.

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We have only ourselves to blame for this tragedy. Only ourselves.

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Guest Blogger Today!

Yes, your Felt Up blogette has to be out of town all day today, so I thought I'd post Rock the Casblogger Rebekah M.'s humorous musings on the last episode of "Trading Spouses." Since I was fated to miss it, I had demanded from her an account of what took place on the season finale, when each woman decides how the other one's family gets to distribute $50,000, usually in some manner than ends in tears.

Rebekah's rousing, spirited, and highly partisan description of this major television event seemed appropriate for, nay, even superior to what is normally contained in Felt Up, and since it was this or nothing, I give you this! I'm very grateful to Rere for graciously providing high-quality content for my humble blog brings a wee tear to me eye, it really does.

Now. When we last left the families of "Trading Spouses," the Humorless Californian Vegan mom was being outsmarted by a be-mulleted blonde Cajun imp, and her Cajun counterpart was seething with rage at the thought of having to make a tofu gumbo for a Humorless Californian Vegan party...

Take it away Rere!

"The Cajun mom is really sweet & tries to be considerate of the crazy vegans. She eats & cooks vegan food in their house & even tries to make a vegan gumbo for a party (which the ungrateful vegans scrape the food into the trash, being freaked out by the presence of "spices" and "taste" in their food). [Ed. note: HA!] Later, at the party, this crazed vegan in a pleather motorcycle jacket berates her for killing poisonous snakes at her house in the swamp (that might hurt her kid) and sneers at her "oh, killing is so easy – isn't it?"

Meanwhile, the vegan mom also throws an all-vegan party for the Cajun neighbors (hooray!) and berates the guests for arriving early to their faces. Then she makes them all watch an animal cruelty video AT THE PARTY -- and sits there and cries during it while all the guests look at her like a crazy person and slowly back out of the room. The husband says in voice-over that he thinks everyone is afraid of her.

In other highlights, she makes fun of the way the Cajun lady dresses (and of her house) and says all people in Louisiana are behind the times, she uses "journaling" as a verb and she correct the little boy's homework and makes him respell monkeys as "monkies". In short, she is a moron, in addition to being a self-righteous bitch.
[Ed. note: I think using 'journaling' and maybe also 'scrapbooking' as a verb should be made a federal crime, perhaps in some special amendment to the Patriot Act.]

You can tell the people who edited it really hate her – at one point, they juxtapose a clip of her talking about how much she loves animals with a shot of her hitting the Cajun family's dog, while trying to force its head down in its pee. They also show her lecturing people at the party about how regular burgers cause cancer but her yummy gardenburgers actually help prevent it – and then she goes outside for a smoke.[Ed. note: HA!]

To add the final hypocritical cherry to her shrill sundae, she then goes out on the town and eats alligator! Sure, she's the one who forced her family to go vegan for the last eight years, but when she sits down in front of a plate of fried alligator she justifies eating it because it's only a reptile. First she starts crying (it's her own idea to eat it), then pops it in her mouth and immediately brightens up & says "mmm, it's good!" At this point, I begin to think she is actually certifiably insane.

At one point she tries to show that she does have a heart and says that she always tells her children that they could eat the neighbors dog if they were really starving (thanks, mom!) – to which the Cajun family looks horrified and insists they would starve before they would eat their dogs. When she asks why the little boy would eat his pet frogs but not his dog, he sagely says "because a frog is a frog, but a dog is man's best friend." [Ed. note: That kid is a genius! I love that kid! When is he going to get his own show, dammit?]

To top things off, she leaves the Cajuns a letter detailing why they are bad parents. She basically tells them they need to be nicer to their kid & spend more time with him, which is amusing since her own kids are talking about how much they're going to miss the Cajun mom & how they're going to get in so much more trouble & get yelled at all the time once their real mom comes back. True to their fears, once she returns to her own family she almost immediately starts berating and threatening them. Everyone is clearly afraid of her.

When they read out the money shots, the vegan lady tells her family that if there's any tears they won't get any "lettuce wraps" as treats [Ed. note: HA ha ha oh god that is awesome]-- and then proceeds to cry after finding out how the money is split. Though it's unclear why she's upset, since the sweet Cajun lady gave them $8K for a vacation, $10K for a jacuzzi (she got really mad about this & insisted that she got to be the one to decide where to put it), $10K for an orchard for the husband (this is the part that apparently pisses her off)...and then after she gets to the last item ($20K for her to do with as she wishes), she proclaims the Cajun lady "wise."

In contrast, the vegan made them spend most of their money on "eco-engines" for their boats and a new roof on their house and only left them $4K for a vacation. The one nice thing you can say about her was she did include $2K for the mudboat that the Cajuns had promised their little boy if he was nice to his new mom -- and the poor kid earned that mudboat the hard way. Thank God she didn't crush his little dreams as she is surely crushing those of her own sad little children.

It's a real shame the show didn't end with the Cajun lady beating the shit out of the California vegan, because that is what America really wants to see! [Ed. note: It's certainly what I wanted to see! Or maybe the Cajun kid putting crawfish down her underpants or something.] Sigh."

Yay, thanks Rebekah! Fantastic job. I couldn't have been any snarkier myself. Now, it's off to old San Antonio, where I am almost positive they have my long-lost stolen bicycle hidden in the basement of the Alamo.

Vaya con Dios, amigos!

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

He Puts The "Butt" in Butterscotch

It is way, way, way past my bed time, but I just had to get this in so all you workin' nine-to-five-ers can have a little treat waiting for you when you get to the office. What is so urgently important, you may ask? Only this, the best "blind item" ever put into print since the Dawn of Time. From, naturally, the NY Post's Page Six column, which asks, not very coyly:
Which blond stud, nicknamed the "Butterscotch Stallion," has a perverse sexual bent? He recently picked up a girl at a wedding and the two went back to his hotel room. When the woman asked if he had a condom, the actor replied: "I don't want to have sex with you, but I do want to do something else" — and proceeded to lick her buttocks for "over two hours."

I say, Page Six, it's not really a "blind item" if you put the person's nickname in it, for God's sake! And surely everyone knows who the "Butterscotch Stallion" is, right? Well, just in case you don't, it's none other than Owen Wilson. I believe it was which bestowed the every-day-more-appropriate moniker on the stripper-lovin', butt-lickin' blonde Texan studmuffin.

Jesus. Two hours? It seems like the good times might start to wane a little after about 20 minutes. Even the velvet tongue of the "Butterscotch Stallion" might chafe after a while...

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In other non-use you can't really use, it seems that Lindsay Lohan has moved on to, if not bigger or brighter, at least sillier pastures on the dating front. According to Page Six:
She's already dated bubble-gum popster Aaron Carter, and now it looks like Lindsay Lohan has been hooking up with a bona fide rocker. Our snitches say the 18-year-old superstar has been discreetly dating Diego Garcia, hunky lead singer of local buzz band Elefant. Garcia, an Argentinian-born Brown grad, is known for his onstage lothario act. While opening for stellastarr* at the Bowery Ballroom a while back, he told the sold-out crowd, "I have now impregnated each and every one of you."

Hee-hee, I can't help it, that line made me giggle. Let's take a look-see at Lindsay's new herpes virus victim, shall we?

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Hmmm. Not too shabby, Hohan! Although I admit that I have an ingrained distrust of all scarf-wearing Brown graduates who front "rock" bands, I suppose he is better than Fez, at least. But then again, who isn't? Besides Carrot Top, I mean.

I'm sorry. It's 2:30 am, and I can't resist a Carrot Top reference! I'm slap-happy! The Butterscotch Stallion licked someone's ass for two hours! Two hours!