Notice to celebrities -- the time for drugging, and partying it up beyond the max, is OVER!
People apparently expect celebrity Twitter feeds to be authentic. They like to imagine, and they do imagine, that they are following a celebrity's life as it happens. That's an unrealistic, albeit rather charming, expectation.
While poking around Huffington Post's Entertainment Page last week, I was struck by two images, placed one above the other. The first was Laurence Fis...
A fun and comically witty TV series set in Aspen, America's winter playground for the rich and famous, has been developing in the mind of it's creator Greg Simmons for a number of years.
Something about Fred Thompson's life mirrors the greatness of America -- how ordinary men and women answer the call to service. He was willing to serve, of course, but not obsessed by the need for power.
We must stop trying to act like the leaders of the free world when all we can think about are boobs and rumps. Heck, even our politicians and priests are preoccupied with body parts.
Paris Hilton: Is your vice-like grip on the public imagination starting to slip? Judging by these pictures, not if you can help it.
Paris Hilton, who caused a huge stir with the photographers the minute when she entered the room, lost her grandmother after a long struggle with multiple sclerosis.
Sarah Silverman braved the rain to greet fans at Urban Outfitters in Manhattan and sign her memoir The Bedwetter.
Remember when female celebrities were curvy and beautiful and nobody cared? Or rather, when they were curvy and beautiful and people appreciated their unique appeal instead of dissecting it?
Martha, you had to be hurt when Mariana testified against you at your trial. But writing this book and exposing the intimacies of your longstanding friendship so publicly, was a particularly bitter form of betrayal.
"I would like to be famous for 16 minutes" and so in a new film called Ultra Violet for Sixteen Minutes we actually witness the extra minute of fame ...
In the past two years, two completely unrelated films have been made about a dystopian future in which organ transplants have become a commodity.
The next time you confusedly see in a 6'1'', 180 lbs. wide receiver running nude through the park, Chad Ochocinco's question remains: Why wouldn't he?
Imagine the water, soft drinks, and beer consumed by 2.5 million people in the streets partying during a record heat wave with stifling humidity, and then think of the pressing need for rest rooms.
Monica Lewinsky was the tip of the iceberg. It is not an exaggeration when I say that all you must do is let your orifices (orifii) run free and a media career is in your future.