Entries from December 2007 ↓

Hello lovely readers. I’m sure I only have about two of you now (if that) since I’ve been on a hiatus these last few months. Oh, by the way, I’ve been on a hiatus. Yeah. I thought about making a post about it, but that strays into tricky territory - if I’m on a hiatus, can I post and say that I am on a hiatus? Does that defy the rules of a posting-hiatus?

Anyway. It’s no matter. The point is, while I probably will continue to disappoint my last two readers with a noticeable absence of celebrity gossip in the coming weeks, I can assure you I will be sharing something much, much more awesome. I’m sure you, dear mother and aunt, are not very excited to know that I am going to be sharing with you my TOP 100 SONGS OF 2007 list, but hopefully some poor souls will stumble upon this site and find some use for the compilation.

I know that this is a gossip blog, and pretentious lists of obscure music is probably not why you stop by once a month to see if I’ve gotten off my lazy virtual ass and shared insight on shallow people with unattainable wealth and idiocy… but I don’t really care. This is my blog, and if it’s going to be vacant I may as well share what I’ve so diligently spent my time working on over the last few weeks. Because I have been working diligently - this list is very, very important to me. Most years I only make a top 20 or 30 list, but this year merited a top 100.

Anyway - carry on. Go back to visiting the blogs that actually give you both news and hilarious commentary. In a few days, if you choose to return, you will find the greatest Christmas present of all - some lovely zip files with all of the best songs of the year, subjectively chosen by your favorite slacker of a gossip blogger. I really can’t wait to share it with you. Stay tuned.

The Orange County Weekly has a disturbing article up outlining the collaboration between - wait for it - Lil’ Wayne and Zac Efron. Yes, I’m serious. The whole thing makes me want to vomit a little in my mouth, but here are some highlights:

“What’s up, my nigga?” Efron says, giving Wayne a pound, a hug, and then, to my astonishment, a full-on kiss, reminiscent of the one Wayne famously gave his surrogate father Baby last year. (Obviously, Efron is going to have to work harder to squelch rumors surrounding his sexual orientation.)

“I’ve been a big fan of Wayne for a long time,” says Efron, emerging from the embrace and cueing up a CD player. “These are the cuts we just finished. Dope, right?”

Fuck it. I’m just going to share the whole article because it’s that absurd. And, for the record, I am completely in love with Weezy F and find his part in all of this very amusing. It’s the Efron part that makes me want to vomit a little in my mouth. Why, Weezy, why??

I wish I could share his enthusiasm, but the songs are a bit jarring, to say the least. On “All for One,” Efron sings the chorus—“Everybody all for one, a real summer has just begun! Let’s rock and roll and just let go, feel the rhythm of the drums. We’re gonna have fun in the sun!”—while Wayne raps: “I’m a dog, you’re all a bunch of fleas on my dick. Driving a Jag, er, like my name was Mick. I’m so sour like cream with chives, and my sperm will make your face break out in hives.”

When they ask for my honest opinion about their new songs, I mutter something about them being “outside the box” and “memorable.” Though my answer is clearly insincere, Wayne seems unfazed.

“This isn’t the only thing I got going on right now,” he says, as the two young celebrities walk me out. “I just did songs with Mannheim Steamroller, something for the new Raffi album, and 16 bars in Spanish on Ricky Martin’s new one.”

Does Wayne ever get overwhelmed by the pace of his high-flying lifestyle?

“Hell, no! This is how I live! I get up in the morning, get my dick sucked four times, drink a Molson’s, and then hang out with Zac. What, do you want me to go to Hawaii for a vacation? You got a job, but this is my vacation right here.”

Adds Efron, “Word!”

I’d be inclined to think this is all a crock of shit, but having seen my fair share of High School Musical and having heard my fair share of Lil’ Wayne, I have to say, those lyrics are spot-on. And this also helps me validate my longstanding claim that Zac Efron always looks stoned.

The Daily Mail has quite the fascinating list of celebrity dressing room requests.

Mariah Carey: Cristal champagne. One box of bendy straws. One special attendant to dispose of used chewing gum. Tea service for eight. A Honey Bear pack of honey. Two air purifiers. Puppy. Kittens. (Why only ONE puppy but MULTIPLE kittens? Seems a little puppyist to me.)

Marilyn Manson: Air-conditioning always on full. Haribo gummi bears. Doritos. Microwave popcorn. Bottle of Absinthe. A bald hooker with no teeth. (All of this seems frighteningly normal until you get to the normal frighteningness of the bald hooker with no teeth part. Maybe it’s because he can’t take his skeleton baby on tour and misses it.)

David Hasselhoff: Life-size cut-out of David Hasselhoff. (This can’t be real.)

Barbara Streisand: Rose petals in toilet. (No, Barbara, rose petals or not, your shit’s still going to stink.)

Keith Richards: A guitar strap. Chicken sandwiches. Diet Coke. Cigarettes. (What more do you need? I mean…. really?)

Jennifer Lopez: White flowers. White tablecloths. White curtains. White candles. White couches. Lowwatt lightbulbs. Coffee to be stirred counter-clockwise. Skittles. (If you stir the coffee clockwise, all of the white decor turns into black decor and you see evil Jlo unleash her wrath)

P Diddy: 204 towels. 20 bars of soap. Two bottles of Hennessy cognac. Two bottles of Santa Margherita Pinot Grigio. Two bottles of Veuve Clicquot. A bottle of Dom Perignon. Grey Goose vodka. Boom box. Bouquet of white flowers. Cheddar cheese and sour-cream chips. Sweet Tarts. A $300,000 bullet-proof Maybach. (What it doesn’t say here is that everything is bulletproof, not just the Mayback. The towels, the liquor, the boombox, hell - even the sweet tarts. Because it’s just not cool to bust a cap in cheddar cheese and sour cream potato chips.)

Apparently Madonna is attempting to make ‘Louise’ happen now that she’s realized two years later that no one picked up on ‘Esther’. Maybe she’s thinking that since Louise is one of her eight middle names it will be a little more legit.

Star Magazine “reports”:

An insider reveals that the singer born Maddona Louise Veronica Ciccone “has started telling us all to call her by her middle name” - after 25 years of being Madonna and then Esther, the Hebrew name she adopted when she began practicing Kabbalah. The latest moniker change “has to do with the fact that she’s having an age crisis,” the insider says about the star… “She says she wants to go back to her roots!” Madonna’s rep denies the story.

Come on. Really, Madonna? The only nickname you ever got people to call you repeatedly (other than “Crazy Bitch” and “Reformed Slut”) is Madge, and you should consider it lucky you even got a nickname at all. Like it or not, you are a historical icon in the world of pop. No one’s going to go out to the club and beg the DJ to play “Louise’s amazing hit, ‘Like a prayer’”.

Oh well. There’s always Veronica if Louise doesn’t pan out.

Other names under consideration: Faith, Chastity, Love, Fate, Unicorn.

Her parents call her Miley because when she was a kid (as if she’s not a kid now), she was “smiley.” I can only guffaw, though I suppose this is to be expected of the man who brought the world “Achy Breaky Heart.”

But I have to say, the kid is kind of adorable, precious name aside:

So, in sum, Hannah Montana is really Miley Stewart is really Destiny Hope Cyrus is really cute.