The Boomer List airs September 23, 2014 on PBS' American Masters. The film, a series of "talking portraits," is based on my photographic portrait style, come to life.
The very-pregnant Mila Kunis may be ready to pop, but that didn't stop her from selling off her Los Angeles property this past week for $3.825 million.
The world's most eligible bachelor is finally getting hitched. And I'm beginning to think I'm the only one who cares.
YouTube personalities become popular because they speak directly to their fans, with no network oversight, no whitewashing of their language and no fancy production. They say what they want. They're real. It's important that parents get clued in to who they are.
1. She knows brevity is commanding. While many in her shoes would take advantage of her media platform and have plenty to say about her virtual attackers, her official statement was two sentences.
Photos of women's unclothed body parts drive traffic and readership. It doesn't matter whether it's an ex-girlfriend's bare boobs on a revenge porn site or an Emmy award-winning actress caught off guard on the Red Carpet. Every woman is fair game.
My petition in my wife Briggs's memory on Change.org, the Petition for Briggs for Cancer Immunotherapy for All, has been generously signed by 25 stars of film, media, and tennis.
Joan Rivers sat at life's table. She demanded the finest linens, china, and utensils. She always had fresh flowers. She was always served food that was seasoned perfectly. But when the food called for it, she ate with her hands. When she dropped her napkin, she wiped her face with the corner of the tablecloth. If she belched, she didn't apologize.
Much to my surprise, she was the opposite of the joking loud-mouth I knew from television. She seemed demure and polite, and she let Bernard do most of the talking and the quipping.
Already, we've seen plenty of celebs out and about in the city, and most are shacking up in their usual haunts -- i.e. the city's hippest, most luxurious hotels.
It's our Internet, and if we don't take care of it, it won't take care of us.
I didn't get to meet Robin. Yet, like so many of you, I felt like I knew him. I'd had the privilege of peering into those sensitive blue eyes on TV or in the movies, and I believed that I'd plumbed the depths of his soul.
I bet it was much more difficult to leak nudes back in the "oughts" and early twentieth century. You couldn't sit all day and night in a dark room with Slayer playing in the background. Leaking photographs of Theda Bara or Anna Pavlova took time and patience.
To get the number of signatures on it to build to the point that we can begin truly changing the face of cancer, I want to start a volleying-video challenge here in this post while the U.S. Open is still in full swing.
Why do we normalize forced and involuntary pornography of women? Why do we consistently participate in the exploitation of women, and why do we turn the ownership of the female body into a spectator sport?
What would you do with a stage three-cancer diagnosis? Mope? Grieve? Surrender? It's devastating and paralyzing. It quickly snuffs out hope and threatens your joy. It murders you figuratively and sometimes takes you literally.