Seriously, not to be facetiously morbid, but place your bets now. Realistically, it’s only a matter of time, and MTV only encourages this behavior, so… what’s the over/under on a Jersey Shore: Memorial Special? Season 3 finale episode, maybe? (Two-parter, of course.) Just wondering.
Radar says that sometime during the filming of season 2 (the season currently airing), Snooki (the tiniest orange one) from Jersey Shore got alcohol poisoning, was sent to the hospital and had her stomach pumped. This is the same little orange one that got arrested on the beach for being drunk and disorderly. And “annoying.” (No, really.)
As the clunky title suggests, this post will be a serious one.
This morning I noticed a hashtag on Twitter called #SpeakLoudly, and after clicking on it, realized that there was a lot of brouhaha about book censorship happening. And then I opened Jezebel’s page, and saw a guest article written by Laurie Halse Anderson, none other than my favorite author from childhood/adolescence (other than Sharon Creech, holla!) and the scribe behind a book that actually changed my life as a young one, called Speak.
Hello, all. Wonder where we’ve been? So do we.
Anyhow, let’s dive back in like nothing ever happened (not unlike all of Charlie Sheen’s exes) and start with a review of The Switch. I saw it a couple of days ago and… well, I’m just a mishmash of emotions. I’m not terribly upset that I paid for it, but I am upset about almost everything else.
This movie is about as plain granola mixed with vanilla yogurt one movie can get. It’s cardboard, people. It’s ridiculously uninteresting any time Jennifer Aniston is on screen and only vaguely interesting (as in, I’m not doing anything else so I might as well keep watching) when she’s not. The first mistake the marketing team behind this film made was promoting it as a “Jennifer Aniston movie.” This is a critique for another time, but let’s all be honest with ourselves: Jennifer Aniston is not that great of an actress. She was good in The Good Girl and passable in Marley & Me, but as my mother always says, even a stopped clock is right twice a day. As Celebitchy so cleverly summed up for us, she was a good-enough TV actress that rode the publicity of a shitty breakup into a monumental movie career, even though she’s proven time and time and time again that she cannot carry one.
Seriously, just examining her IMDB profile is like looking at a warehouse full of dud bombs – few of them had even enough life to give off a spark or two, and when they did, it was hardly her own accomplishment. Consider Marley & Me, a film that had the big draw of a cute and furry animal and the charming Owen Wilson, and you have to understand that some of Aniston’s most recent successful movies were not successful because of her, specifically. (This assessment is purposefully omitting analysis of that perturbing anomaly The Bounty Hunter, which had a moderate success that this bitch will never understand.)
Beyond Aniston, this movie is mainly a “Jason Bateman movie.” Seriously, it is. I was actually kind of taken aback. Sure, the storyline’s a tad also-ran but to market is a Jennifer Aniston movie was a mistake. Bateman is the narrator and the action of it all centers around his character. He makes the catalyst choices, he supplies the denouement. All of which only further serves to confuse me – why did this have to be an Aniston movie at all? She can’t sell a movie, we know that for sure, so why did we feel so obligated to slap her name and face at the top of it like that would put asses in seats? Ugh, these people.
For all of you poor women out there who’ve been victims of rape or incest (or both), and gotten pregnant as a result, Sharron Angle is here to help you. Not with family resources or anything – that shit costs money – but with excellent advice! Now, Modern Dreck ain’t a political blog and we’re not about to be one, but when anyone offers up, on a gleaming silver platter of amazingness, the best piece of advice ever issued (and that person isn’t Lindsay Lolzhan, because we’re done with that broad until she gets out of jail), we consider it our job to tell you about it. No, but seriously, be warned: what follows is sick and weird (and a potential trigger for SA survivors). Just so you know. Read more…
ETA: So City Rag beat me to the most awesome compendium of Lolhan pictures ever. Check them out here. Also in updates: Lolz might get more jail time for contempt of court, because our little darling painted “Fuck U” on her middle fingernail either before/during the hearing. Such a prize, yes? She’ll likely do around a total of 23 days and she’ll be in isolation because she’s a pretty princess and those other hags inmates are not. Oh, and Michael Lohan went and partied last night, and joked, “I should call Lindsay and make her jealous.” Nope. Not kidding. So yeah, let’s all give Lolz a hand for living as long as she did and hope she gets to spend her 23 days, at the very least, detoxing from her fucking family.
I’ve already beaten a dead/dying horse with this Lolzhan thing, and I do feel moderately bad for the girl (despite my conflicted feelings that she also doesn’t deserve anyone’s pity at this point), so let’s just sum some shit up, shall we?
Yesterday Lindz had to go to a hearing to see if she’d violated her probation. Half the free world knows she has, because her SCRAM bracelet went off and the company charged with investigating the results seemed quite sure that it wasn’t something as trivial as alcohol spillage on her bracelet. And in anecdotal evidence, it says plenty about a young woman sentenced to alcohol education classes and a SCRAM bracelet (among other things) who continues to go out every single night a week – regardless of whether she was drinking or not. Read more…