Okay, okay. This 3-year-old, Wesley Muresan, snowboards better than I do. Fortunately, I’m better at pronouncing the letter “r” than I expect he’ll ever be. Also, he pronounces “giant” with a hard “g”, which is totally inexplicable. It’s clear that his mother is way too busy selecting hip and rockin’ beats for his YouTube videos to read James and the Giant Peach to him.

He has a Facebook page, which I’m not going to link to, because, like, that’s ridiculous. But, if you like, you can jump in for more videos of him shrupping or gnawing or snorting rails or whatever it is you call doing things on a snowboard when you’re good at it.

(more…)

The poor girl can’t even stand up. What do you even think is in that thing? Liquor bottles? A less obnoxious blazer? Ashley?

I also think it’s funny that they have her standing on grass. As if she doesn’t already have enough in her system.

Type O Negative bassist/lead singer Peter Steele’s never been shy when it came to dying. Back in 2005, the musician (or rather, his band) faked his own death, but the gimmick was a gag — it was a promo for Type O Negative’s newest album.

However, new reports are emerging that the 48 year-old rocker really has bit the big one this time, but sources are still trying to completely confirm the news.

It’s said that Steele died from heart failure last night. Peter allegedly battled a life-long bout of depression and had endured bouts of psychiatric treatment for his problems.

The band’s site is also confirming the singer’s death, but I checked his Wiki page anyway — and according to it, he is pretty dead. If you can’t trust Wiki, hell, I ask you, who can you trust to tell the truth?

RIP Pete.

Katy was pictured in LA earlier this week, prancing around like the pop princess that she is. She arrived at a film studio in Chinatown for … well, something, I guess. I’m really kind of too busy checking out her body to care why she’s where she is.

This girl’s got a massively-tiny waist and fabulous boobs for days.

Perry’s about as full-bodied as my morning cup of coffee and I dig it completely. More women should be using Katy as their body role-models (if they feel they absolutely need one), instead of stick-thin, rib-poppin’ haute couture models with no visceral substance.

I’ve generally abided by the rule of thumb, “It takes one to know one”, so this might not be so surprising, considering Wainwright’s notoriously flamboyant about his sexuality.

The singer was interviewed earlier this week by Details magazine — the interview that’s sure to rock the rap world:

Q: You’ve sung in Latin, you’ve referenced Thomas Mann, and your new album pays tribute to Shakespeare. What’s your beef with the 21st century?
A: I am a little slower in my percolations. I like examining what’s come before. But that said, I’m addicted to Real Housewives of Orange County and Keeping Up With the Kardashians. I get sideswiped by the boobs, the hair, the butts, the jewels, the cars, the bad boys. And I love, love 50 Cent. I think he’s just the sexiest, and a brilliant writer. And I know he’s gay.

Q: What makes you so sure?
A: That cute little voice of his. It’s okay, 50 Cent. Feel free to call me anytime. My boyfriend and I are experts. You can come over for dinner. And maybe dessert.

Q: You were born in America but raised in Montreal. What’s the most Canadian thing about you?
A: My love of maple syrup. I’ve been known to knock back a can over a couple days: A swig here, a swig there, and next thing you know it’s gone. It’s a habit I have to stave off. I don’t want to lose all my teeth. I stopped doing crystal meth—I don’t want to look like an addict.

Q: What’s the best part of a crystal-meth high?
A: There’s nothing enjoyable about it. It gets its hooks in you. I’ve done every kind of drug, and each one has something laudable about it, except meth.

Q: How did your parents—the folk musicians Loudon Wainwright III and (the late) Kate McGarrigle—react when you came out in your teens?
A: I love my folks, and they’ve done a good job coming full circle, but they were terrible: terrified, ill-equipped, confused. They threatened to kick me out of the house. They didn’t want to talk about it and just weren’t there for me. I mean, it was the mid-eighties and AIDS was pervasive, so I can’t blame them totally for their insanity. And they changed a lot over the years.

So … Fitty, gay? Do you think Rufus has some inside information that we commoners aren’t privy to, or could it be mega-wishful thinking on Wainwright’s part as it were?

That’d be quite a concept to behold, huh?

Thoughts?

Jaime King leaves the premiere of Kick-Ass the other night and maintains to keep it together. And by “it”, I mean “her legs.” And good for her. Although there’s probably a whole slew of pre-pubescent young boys who’d love nothing more than to catch a glimpse of King-gina (is that like Godzilla?), the illustrious actress avoids pubic ridicule and holds steadfast to what she believes in: dignity.

And the seat of her dress.