Because I can......
You may tire of Patsy and Eddy, but I never will. NEVER!!!!!!!
This is the episode where Saffrom writes a play about the two most wonderfully dysfunctional women in the world.
Friday, August 25, 2006
THAT WHICH DOES NOT KILL US....
makes my head hurt instead.
Viva USED to be able to drink. She could throw down with the best of them, when she was young, thinner, and had a liver more bouncy than a new pair of Nikes. Life was good then, and the birds chirped and the world was a happy place.
But the passage of time can humble even the most prolific drinker. Especially one who has traveled the road of All Night Benders in the City all the way to Sobriety and Sweatpants in the Suburbs.
Time is not on my side, I am afraid.
Viva celebrated her Bachelor Girl freedom by heading out to happy hour with a dear friend last night. During the course of the evening, Viva learned four important things:
1. Cosmos sort of taste like lighter fluid unless you are really drunk (then they taste like watery lighter fluid)
2. Do not mix Cosmos with beer.
3. A 2 a.m. stop at the grocery store for frozen "stuffed potato skins," "mozzerella sticks" and "chicken taquitos" (and a cookie) is not probably not a good idea.
4. Eating said frozen items in a barely warmed state at 2:30 a.m. is an even worse idea.
Somehow I managed to walk the dog, clean the kitchen, take off my makeup and remove my contacts in my inebriated state, so score one for maturity. Sort of.
Anyhow, whatever brain cells I can cull today have to be used for actual work. In short, posting will be shit, while I conquer the shakes and head for McDonalds.
Bachelor Girl Week is officially over on Sunday, but Viva plans to nurse her wounds on the couch with happy hair for the remainder. Viva is a crappy bachelor girl.
It's not easy to get old.
makes my head hurt instead.
Viva USED to be able to drink. She could throw down with the best of them, when she was young, thinner, and had a liver more bouncy than a new pair of Nikes. Life was good then, and the birds chirped and the world was a happy place.
But the passage of time can humble even the most prolific drinker. Especially one who has traveled the road of All Night Benders in the City all the way to Sobriety and Sweatpants in the Suburbs.
Time is not on my side, I am afraid.
Viva celebrated her Bachelor Girl freedom by heading out to happy hour with a dear friend last night. During the course of the evening, Viva learned four important things:
1. Cosmos sort of taste like lighter fluid unless you are really drunk (then they taste like watery lighter fluid)
2. Do not mix Cosmos with beer.
3. A 2 a.m. stop at the grocery store for frozen "stuffed potato skins," "mozzerella sticks" and "chicken taquitos" (and a cookie) is not probably not a good idea.
4. Eating said frozen items in a barely warmed state at 2:30 a.m. is an even worse idea.
Somehow I managed to walk the dog, clean the kitchen, take off my makeup and remove my contacts in my inebriated state, so score one for maturity. Sort of.
Anyhow, whatever brain cells I can cull today have to be used for actual work. In short, posting will be shit, while I conquer the shakes and head for McDonalds.
Bachelor Girl Week is officially over on Sunday, but Viva plans to nurse her wounds on the couch with happy hair for the remainder. Viva is a crappy bachelor girl.
It's not easy to get old.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
EVERYBODY LOVES A 9/11 WIDOW
Oh Brucey Bruce-Bruce. What are you thinking? Jersey's finest has done gone and fetched himself a 9/11 widow (who apparently happens to be a hottie, surprise, surprise) much to the chagrin of his wife of 20 years, Patti Scialfa. Patti, you take that man to the CLEANERS, girl!
I remember reading in the New York Times about how NYC firemen (who survived the attacks) were dumping their very pissed-off wives and taking off with their fallen "brothers'" widows, and thought that was pretty sketchy. They even covered this in one of my most favorite shows, Rescue Me. God, I love Denis Leary. He's one I'd like to set a little house fire for, and wait for him to show up and.... Wait, where was I? Oh yes, real-life firemen being idiots. But, you know, in a tragedy of this sort of proportion, shit happens. Men have been falling for the "Damsel in Distress" crap since the beginning of time.
Et tu, Bruce? Et tu?
I can never listen to "Thunder Road" the same way again.
What's next? I bet Bono is going to dump his wife Ali and run off some scabby Lebanese refugee who lives under the roof of a rusty '62 Plymouth Fury, and subsists on a diet of dried dung beetles and donkey milk. You know it could happen, and then he'll write a whole album about it. Bono is all sorts of batshit for those swarthy ethnic women. I bet "swarthy ethnic refugee women" will be the new "Ethiopian Orphan" for 2007. It'll be the latest Must-Have accessory. Better than a Birkin! Angelina will be first in line to adopt one, and make it wear a vial of her blood around its neck.
FromThe New York Post
Oh Brucey Bruce-Bruce. What are you thinking? Jersey's finest has done gone and fetched himself a 9/11 widow (who apparently happens to be a hottie, surprise, surprise) much to the chagrin of his wife of 20 years, Patti Scialfa. Patti, you take that man to the CLEANERS, girl!
I remember reading in the New York Times about how NYC firemen (who survived the attacks) were dumping their very pissed-off wives and taking off with their fallen "brothers'" widows, and thought that was pretty sketchy. They even covered this in one of my most favorite shows, Rescue Me. God, I love Denis Leary. He's one I'd like to set a little house fire for, and wait for him to show up and.... Wait, where was I? Oh yes, real-life firemen being idiots. But, you know, in a tragedy of this sort of proportion, shit happens. Men have been falling for the "Damsel in Distress" crap since the beginning of time.
Et tu, Bruce? Et tu?
I can never listen to "Thunder Road" the same way again.
What's next? I bet Bono is going to dump his wife Ali and run off some scabby Lebanese refugee who lives under the roof of a rusty '62 Plymouth Fury, and subsists on a diet of dried dung beetles and donkey milk. You know it could happen, and then he'll write a whole album about it. Bono is all sorts of batshit for those swarthy ethnic women. I bet "swarthy ethnic refugee women" will be the new "Ethiopian Orphan" for 2007. It'll be the latest Must-Have accessory. Better than a Birkin! Angelina will be first in line to adopt one, and make it wear a vial of her blood around its neck.
FromThe New York Post
August 24, 2006 -- BRUCE Springsteen is born to run - from marriage.
Several sources have told The Post that the superstar who wrote "Hungry Heart" and his second wife of almost 20 years, Patti Scialfa, are on the rocks and virtually living separate lives.
Part of the problem seems to be a friendship Springsteen developed with a stunning 9/11 widow The Boss is said to have met when he organized the "America: A Tribute to Heroes" telethon.
"They're separated, but everyone has been sworn to secrecy," one pal of the couple told The Post's Jeane MacIntosh. "We're not supposed to talk about it."
Springsteen and the woman - who is a redhead, just like Scialfa - have been spotted several times at the Beacon Hill Beach Club in Monmouth, N.J., said one local source. The two have also been spotted at the Stone Pony, the Asbury Park watering hole from Springsteen's Glory Days.
The widow is said to be a member of the swank Atlantic Club gym in Red Bank. Her children attend the exclusive Ranney School in Tinton Falls with Springsteen's kids.
But a Bruce pal said, "He's just a really big flirt. There's nothing going on." Another friend said, "Bruce and Patti are very much partners. They go at it a lot and fight, but they also work at it a lot . . . Patti is a strong woman. They are not going anywhere."
Springsteen and Scialfa vacationed with their children in upstate New York last month, but in recent weeks, he has been spotted alone with his kids at a local beach. Pals said he's been spending less time at the family's Rumson home and more time at a guest house on the couple's farm in Colts Neck, about 20 minutes away. Springsteen is said to have attended his daughter Jessica's eighth-grade graduation solo and spent a lot of time with Robert De Niro at a beach in Atlantic Highlands.
Scialfa's mom, Victoria Scialfa, told us, "I don't know anything about it; I don't want to talk about it." A representative for Springsteen, who was married to Julianna Phillips when he started seeing Scialfa in 1987, declined comment.
ONE BULLET COULD HAVE MADE THE WORLD A HAPPIER PLACE
Fellow American Idol dorks like myself will remember the Most Annoying Contestant Ever, Mikalah "Bastard Child of Fran Drescher and Barbara Streisand" Jordon. Apparently, she was robbed at gunpoint yesterday. Before you go all crazy on me, I am not saying Mikalah should be murdered. But would it have killed the robbers to put a bullet in her throat while making off with her measly $5 and cell phone? I mean, they had the chance of a lifetime there, and they blew it. We could have lived in a world where that big-nosed abcess would never speak again. A world of blessed silence.
Now we're going to see this bitch whining about her panic attack and near-death experience on Entertainment Tonight. Ovah and ovah. I need a Vicodin.
From Oh No They Didn't!
Fellow American Idol dorks like myself will remember the Most Annoying Contestant Ever, Mikalah "Bastard Child of Fran Drescher and Barbara Streisand" Jordon. Apparently, she was robbed at gunpoint yesterday. Before you go all crazy on me, I am not saying Mikalah should be murdered. But would it have killed the robbers to put a bullet in her throat while making off with her measly $5 and cell phone? I mean, they had the chance of a lifetime there, and they blew it. We could have lived in a world where that big-nosed abcess would never speak again. A world of blessed silence.
Now we're going to see this bitch whining about her panic attack and near-death experience on Entertainment Tonight. Ovah and ovah. I need a Vicodin.
From Oh No They Didn't!
Local "American Idol" contestant Mikalah Gordon is "lucky she's alive" after being assaulted during a robbery at gunpoint at 3:30 a.m. Wednesday, her mother said.
Gordon, 18, was taking a break from recording music when a man pointing a gun approached her and a male friend, Gordon's mother, Victoria Cavaricci, said Wednesday.
Three other men came up, and Gordon was ordered to lie on her back on the sidewalk.
Gordon, who was 16 when she reached the finals of the 2005 "American Idol" competition, told her mother that her head was slammed on the sidewalk by an assailant who was angry that she had looked at his face.
As her assailants groped her, Gordon had a panic attack that may have saved her, Cavaricci said, adding, "She thought she was going to die."
"She's scarred and scared, but it could have been so much worse," Cavaricci said. "Police said she's so lucky she's alive."
Las Vegas police spokesman Bill Cassell confirmed that the robbery occurred. The police are still investigating it, he said.
Cavaricci gave the location as near Nellis Boulevard and Washington Avenue. The robbers got away with a cell phone and $5 in cash, she said.
Gordon was putting together songs she planned to sing this weekend at a benefit in Orange County, Calif., for kids with cancer.
The precocious teen, whose "Nanny"-like nasal tones drew comparison to Fran Drescher, landed a guest-starring role on Drescher's sitcom, "Living With Fran."
Earlier this year, supermodel Tyra Banks hired Gordon to be a correspondent for "The Tyra Banks Show."
Gordon also has been working on a project with "Idol" judge Randy Jackson, a music producer, Cavaricci said.
PEOPLE WHO ANNOY THE LIVING CRAP OUT OF ME, EDITION 13: MARIAH CAREY
Sigh. Yes, Mimi, you can sing.
You have an amazing voice, and what a comeback, yadda yadda.
But bitch you are 36 years old! Nobody needs to see your junk in the trunk, no matter how much you might think otherwise. Really. You are not 18. Release the delusions within. Even Paris Hilton knew to step away from the Ho Clothes (though not the Ho) by the tender age of 25.
In short, you are old enough to know better than to step on stage in get-ups that scream for Nutrisystem. Put some clothes on already.
I think you need Tommy Mottola to come over and smack that big ass back of yours back into a pair of pants that both cover and fit you properly, with a shirt that keeps the old gals in check and not flopping willy nilly in a sequin bra.
And enough with the goddamned butterflies. No, I don't see any in these pictures, but I know they are there somewhere. You've been warned.
Sigh. Yes, Mimi, you can sing.
You have an amazing voice, and what a comeback, yadda yadda.
But bitch you are 36 years old! Nobody needs to see your junk in the trunk, no matter how much you might think otherwise. Really. You are not 18. Release the delusions within. Even Paris Hilton knew to step away from the Ho Clothes (though not the Ho) by the tender age of 25.
In short, you are old enough to know better than to step on stage in get-ups that scream for Nutrisystem. Put some clothes on already.
I think you need Tommy Mottola to come over and smack that big ass back of yours back into a pair of pants that both cover and fit you properly, with a shirt that keeps the old gals in check and not flopping willy nilly in a sequin bra.
And enough with the goddamned butterflies. No, I don't see any in these pictures, but I know they are there somewhere. You've been warned.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
LEFT TO MY OWN DEVICES ...
Let's see. the husband is still plowing around Shreveport, Louisiana and the surrounding environs for work. Today, he is up near Arkansas. Yippee Kay Yay! Observations thus far, from the front lines:
Lousiana is very, very, very hot, or "fucking hot," if you will.
The casinos in Shreveport are dead--empty and filled with seniors about one heart attack away from the Great Beyond.
The bugs are bigger. Much bigger.
Did I mention the heat?
The most populated place in Shreveport appears to be the local Wendy's Restaurant.
Everything is spicy.
Spicy foods are not kind to one's gastrointestinal tract.
This only reinforces my desire to keep my fat ass planted firmly in New York State, with its cranky people, nasty winters, and high taxes.
Anyhow, whilst the husband is making friends with Bobby Bouchet and his pet mule, I am here living like a bachelor woman. I can do whatever I want. WHOO HOO!!!! FREEDOM. The dog and I are besides ourselves.
Here has been my crazy-ass week thus far:
Sunday: Power-cleaned the house. I vacuumed, I mopped, I dusted, I scrubbed. A bachelor girl needs a spotless house for all the parties she is going to have, right? Chinese for dinner. Bed.
Monday: To shower or not to shower? Screw shower. I plant myself in my office in my pjs for 9 hours and don't move. Leftover Chinese food for dinner. Bed.
Tuesday: Okay, I really need a shower now. Shower and change out of pjs into slightly nicer happy pants. Look at work to do, and clean house again. Dog looks sullen. Baked Lays for dinner, bed.
Wednesday: Still in jammies, doritoes for breakfast and lunch, hiding in office, with dog underfoot looking for dorito crumbs. Vowing to shower before 3.
This is my hot week alone. Fortunately, I have a real dinner coming tonight. If I look at another chip, my stomach may team up with Pete Doherty's liver and evacuate.
I'll keep you all posted on the madness as it happens. Don't all be too jealous now. Par-tee.
Let's see. the husband is still plowing around Shreveport, Louisiana and the surrounding environs for work. Today, he is up near Arkansas. Yippee Kay Yay! Observations thus far, from the front lines:
Lousiana is very, very, very hot, or "fucking hot," if you will.
The casinos in Shreveport are dead--empty and filled with seniors about one heart attack away from the Great Beyond.
The bugs are bigger. Much bigger.
Did I mention the heat?
The most populated place in Shreveport appears to be the local Wendy's Restaurant.
Everything is spicy.
Spicy foods are not kind to one's gastrointestinal tract.
This only reinforces my desire to keep my fat ass planted firmly in New York State, with its cranky people, nasty winters, and high taxes.
Anyhow, whilst the husband is making friends with Bobby Bouchet and his pet mule, I am here living like a bachelor woman. I can do whatever I want. WHOO HOO!!!! FREEDOM. The dog and I are besides ourselves.
Here has been my crazy-ass week thus far:
Sunday: Power-cleaned the house. I vacuumed, I mopped, I dusted, I scrubbed. A bachelor girl needs a spotless house for all the parties she is going to have, right? Chinese for dinner. Bed.
Monday: To shower or not to shower? Screw shower. I plant myself in my office in my pjs for 9 hours and don't move. Leftover Chinese food for dinner. Bed.
Tuesday: Okay, I really need a shower now. Shower and change out of pjs into slightly nicer happy pants. Look at work to do, and clean house again. Dog looks sullen. Baked Lays for dinner, bed.
Wednesday: Still in jammies, doritoes for breakfast and lunch, hiding in office, with dog underfoot looking for dorito crumbs. Vowing to shower before 3.
This is my hot week alone. Fortunately, I have a real dinner coming tonight. If I look at another chip, my stomach may team up with Pete Doherty's liver and evacuate.
I'll keep you all posted on the madness as it happens. Don't all be too jealous now. Par-tee.
PEOPLE WHO SHOULD ANNOY THE LIVING CRAP OUT OF ME, BUT DON'T, EDITION 2: PETE DOHERTY
This guy is a mess, I know. I mean, how many times can one guy get arrested for drugs, get let out of prison, and get arrested again like five minutes later with smack? Every time you turn around, this guy is in the clink. His skin is yellow, which means his liver, along with everyone other than Kate Moss, has given up on him. In short, Pete is a trainwreck, complete with blood and unconscious people scattered about. But I sort of like that about him. He obviously is so far gone that he doesn't give a fuck, and there's a certain beauty in his truth (that truth being "I am Pete Doherty, and on any given day I am usually one hit away from death"). If this were the 70s, he'd be Keith Richards. Plus, today he punched a nurse. That's brilliant. Horrible, but brilliant. I wanted to punch a nurse once too, a dipshit one who said my old man was "stable and doing fine," meanwhile all of his organs were shutting down, one by one, and he was dead 4 hours later. Idiots thrive in health care. I wish Pete could have punched THAT nurse too. Riiiiiight in the kidneys. And stabbed her with one of his needles.
But I digress. Back to Pete. Apparently, rehab is not the bed of roses he imagined. Meanwhile Kate is sunning herself in Bali while Pete twitches and sees imaginary scorpions crawling up the walls. ROCK ON PETE.
From The Mirror
This guy is a mess, I know. I mean, how many times can one guy get arrested for drugs, get let out of prison, and get arrested again like five minutes later with smack? Every time you turn around, this guy is in the clink. His skin is yellow, which means his liver, along with everyone other than Kate Moss, has given up on him. In short, Pete is a trainwreck, complete with blood and unconscious people scattered about. But I sort of like that about him. He obviously is so far gone that he doesn't give a fuck, and there's a certain beauty in his truth (that truth being "I am Pete Doherty, and on any given day I am usually one hit away from death"). If this were the 70s, he'd be Keith Richards. Plus, today he punched a nurse. That's brilliant. Horrible, but brilliant. I wanted to punch a nurse once too, a dipshit one who said my old man was "stable and doing fine," meanwhile all of his organs were shutting down, one by one, and he was dead 4 hours later. Idiots thrive in health care. I wish Pete could have punched THAT nurse too. Riiiiiight in the kidneys. And stabbed her with one of his needles.
But I digress. Back to Pete. Apparently, rehab is not the bed of roses he imagined. Meanwhile Kate is sunning herself in Bali while Pete twitches and sees imaginary scorpions crawling up the walls. ROCK ON PETE.
From The Mirror
PETE CRACKS
He punches nurse in chest
Cries out for girlfriend Kate
Guarded for his protection
PETE Doherty punched a nurse and trashed his own room in a rehab clinic as the out-of-control crack addict went berserk.
The Babyshambles singer - desperately pining for supermodel lover Kate Moss - turned violent after screaming foul-mouthed abuse at a male nurse who told him to attend more therapy sessions for his drug habits
Doherty, 27, punched the medical man, kicked the door and slammed walls with his hands during the tantrum at the Priory clinic on Sunday night.
He screamed: "I don't f***ing want to be here. I've f***ing had enough."
Staff threatened him that if he didn't calm down he would be sedated. Now he has been assigned a security guard to keep him under control as he continues his treatment.
A friend told 3am: "Pete flipped out on Sunday night because he doesn't want to be there and wants to get out. A nurse was trying to encourage him to get more involved in the therapy sessions when Pete suddenly went berserk.
"He was very upset, screaming 'f*** off', and lashed out at the bloke.
"He was told that if he didn't calm down he would be medicated.
"He just kept saying that he didn't want to be there and wasn't going to get involved in anything.
"He started kicking the door and slamming the walls. He said he wanted Kate. As the nurse tried to restrain him he punched him in the chest. He was out of control.
"His behaviour was appalling. Pete's lucky that the nurse was not hurt."
Doherty, who has had an implant fitted to combat his crack and heroin problems, was ordered into the North London clinic by a judge last Friday after he was charged with five counts of possessing drugs. He is under a 10pm to 8am curfew until September 4 when he is due for sentencing.
Judge Alison Rose warned him: "I've granted you bail on three conditions. You must live and sleep at The Priory, and you are to obey a daily curfew."
The magistrate also warned Doherty that he could face a jail sentence. His passport was confiscated after he admitted he was due to leave the country.
Friends tell us the troubled celebrity has become increasingly depressed and lonely.
He misses supermodel Kate who he had planned to join on holiday in the paradise island of Bali There were even reports they had intended to marry there in a spiritual ceremony but that has been denied by Kate's aides.
Kate, 32, who the Daily Mirror exposed last year, as a cocaine snorter is on holiday on the Indonesian island on her own. The couple were reunited two weeks ago at The Rhythm Festival in Clapham, South London.
They were spotted kissing passionately and holding hands backstage and Kate was said to be "overjoyed" at being back in the arms of her junkie lover.
They first got together on her 31st birthday in January 2005 but broke up in the wake of Kate's cocaine scandal.
She went into rehab but ditched Doherty after he quit the same Arizona clinic that treated her. Now the rocker has pledged to kick his heroin addiction for good, vowing: "I'm off the brown. It took me a while to realise but there are people who care about me so I'm doing it for them."
NOT THAT I AM PROMOTING A NUCLEAR ATTACK
But if there was one, and people had to die, I hope it would be this bitch, her gay, and her little dog too.
Apparently Jessica is releasing her own line of clip-in hair extension, which will be reasonably priced and look like total shit. Paging Tara Reid! You know Tara will be down for this shit. And she's be so drunk, she'll clip them on her vag or something. That might be an improvement, actually. At least the extensions would hide the genital warts.
But if there was one, and people had to die, I hope it would be this bitch, her gay, and her little dog too.
Apparently Jessica is releasing her own line of clip-in hair extension, which will be reasonably priced and look like total shit. Paging Tara Reid! You know Tara will be down for this shit. And she's be so drunk, she'll clip them on her vag or something. That might be an improvement, actually. At least the extensions would hide the genital warts.
BRING OUT YOUR DEAD!!!!!
Tom Cruise isn't dead yet. But Paramount gave him a good smack on the head with a shovel and tossed him in the crazy corpse cart anyway. Seems La Cruise's fake wife (beard), fake baby, and very real psychosis are finally catching up with him. What would Xenu say?
From Reuters
NEW YORK, Aug 22 (Reuters) - Viacom Inc.'s Paramount Pictures unit is ending its 14-year relationship with Tom Cruise's film production company because of the actor's offscreen behavior, the company's chairman said in an interview with the Wall Street Journal.
Sumner Redstone, Viacom chairman, said the behavior of the star of the "Mission: Impossible" series and "Top Gun" was unacceptable to the company, according to the Wall Street Journal story e-mailed to reporters.
Cruise, one of Hollywood's biggest stars, has been known more recently for his antics on U.S. television talk shows, including jumping up and down on Oprah Winfrey's couch to declare his love for Katie Holmes and criticizing the use of antidepressant drugs.
"As much as we like him personally, we thought it was wrong to renew his deal," Redstone was quoted as saying in the Wall Street Journal. "His recent conduct has not been acceptable to Paramount."
Cruise's representatives and officials from Viacom and Paramount did not have any immediate comment on the report.
UPDATE! Camp Cruise responds (from Dlisted):
Paula Wagner, Tom Cruise's producing partner, has spoken out about Paramount Pictures cutting the crazy which was reported yesterday. Paula said that Sumner Redstone's comments were offensive and undignified.
“Whatever remarks Mr. Redstone would make about Tom Cruise personally or as an actor have no bearing on what this business issue is. I don't understand why this would be turned into a personal attack. Because that's what it is. That's letting one of your greatest assets walk out the door. It looks like bad business to me."
"There must be another agenda that the studio has in mind to take one of their greatest assets and malign him this way. We in fact made a decision not to continue our relationship with Paramount Pictures,"
Paula claims that they decided to produce independently and they quit and weren't fired.
"For some reason, Paramount has chosen to negotiate in the press. It's not really the most businesslike approach. We've had virtually no dealings with Mr. Redstone."
Tom Cruise isn't dead yet. But Paramount gave him a good smack on the head with a shovel and tossed him in the crazy corpse cart anyway. Seems La Cruise's fake wife (beard), fake baby, and very real psychosis are finally catching up with him. What would Xenu say?
From Reuters
NEW YORK, Aug 22 (Reuters) - Viacom Inc.'s Paramount Pictures unit is ending its 14-year relationship with Tom Cruise's film production company because of the actor's offscreen behavior, the company's chairman said in an interview with the Wall Street Journal.
Sumner Redstone, Viacom chairman, said the behavior of the star of the "Mission: Impossible" series and "Top Gun" was unacceptable to the company, according to the Wall Street Journal story e-mailed to reporters.
Cruise, one of Hollywood's biggest stars, has been known more recently for his antics on U.S. television talk shows, including jumping up and down on Oprah Winfrey's couch to declare his love for Katie Holmes and criticizing the use of antidepressant drugs.
"As much as we like him personally, we thought it was wrong to renew his deal," Redstone was quoted as saying in the Wall Street Journal. "His recent conduct has not been acceptable to Paramount."
Cruise's representatives and officials from Viacom and Paramount did not have any immediate comment on the report.
UPDATE! Camp Cruise responds (from Dlisted):
Paula Wagner, Tom Cruise's producing partner, has spoken out about Paramount Pictures cutting the crazy which was reported yesterday. Paula said that Sumner Redstone's comments were offensive and undignified.
“Whatever remarks Mr. Redstone would make about Tom Cruise personally or as an actor have no bearing on what this business issue is. I don't understand why this would be turned into a personal attack. Because that's what it is. That's letting one of your greatest assets walk out the door. It looks like bad business to me."
"There must be another agenda that the studio has in mind to take one of their greatest assets and malign him this way. We in fact made a decision not to continue our relationship with Paramount Pictures,"
Paula claims that they decided to produce independently and they quit and weren't fired.
"For some reason, Paramount has chosen to negotiate in the press. It's not really the most businesslike approach. We've had virtually no dealings with Mr. Redstone."
Monday, August 21, 2006
THINGS I LOVE
You know what I love? I love it when people I hate with a passion look like total shit. It's wonderful. It makes me feel alive and bouncy again. Puts a spring in my step, if you will.
Messica Simpson managed to look like total CRAPPYCAKES at the Teen Choice Awards, with the weight gain, the unevenly inflated lips, the man-chin. Dane Cook is probably wondering why he ever stuck his wee-wee in her in the first place. Meanwhile, Nick looked great, and probably wiped his brow in relief after seeing what he could have been stuck with for the rest of his life. Well, AFTER he backed the Brinks truck up to her house and took half her money.
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