Willow Smith has officially made the coolest music video I’ve seen since “Telephone”. There’s diamonds glued to her lips. She dips her hair in paint and swings her head around the room like she’s Jaquisha Pollock or some shit. The cafeteria set looks like it’s part of a multimillion dollar space movie from the 70s.

You gotta watch this. Wait til you get home from work or go to a friend’s house or just go to Best Buy and be all ghetto like that and watch the video there.

This girl is nine years old. We should all be scared.

After announcing back in August that he and his partner, David Burtka, were going to become parents, the moment is finally here. The couple’s surrogate gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl, last Tuesday.  The men named the babies Gideon Scott and Harper Grace, and there are no pictures, but if you take a look at Neil Patrick Harris’ Twitter, it’s pretty clear that this is possibly the most adorable thing that ever happened.  Here’s what he’s had to say so far on fatherhood:

Babies!! On 10/12, Gideon Scott and Harper Grace entered the Burtka-Harris fold. All of us are happy, healthy, tired, and a little pukey.

Youngsters. They cry a lot. I thought it was just a long bit that they were doing. I keep saying, “Annnnd, scene!”… but nothing happens.

You see what I mean?  I think that if pictures are released, then I would just be done.  I’m one of those “ooooh, babies!” people and also one of those “oooh, Neil Patrick Harris!” people, so really there’s no way I could handle the combination of the two.  You guys are with me, right?

Were you able to remember who Barbara Billingsley was before you decided to cheat and Google her? If yes, then you’ll know that she was the mama on Leave It to Beaver, not so much a show of my childhood, but a show that was on a lot in my household (my dad was a big fan) when I was just a kid.

But Barbara Billingsley was a lot more than just a passing reference in my house, and was actually a much bigger presence than I knew until now. Good old Babs, who passed away this past weekend at the age of 94, was not only The Beav’s mom on LITB, but she was auntie-in-real-life to Peter Billingsley, who we all know was Ralphie on A Christmas Story, a movie that will forever remain etched in the velvety folds of my forever-eighties heart and soul. To knock your socks off even more, Barbara Billingsley was also the voice of Nanny on Muppet Babies — oh hell yes I just said Muppet Babies. Do you remember that show? Because I almost fell full off my chair when I read Muppet Babies. I totally forgot about Muppet Babies, so what did I do just ten minutes ago? Scoured the internet for a box set of Muppet Babies, and this bitch found it. And bought it. And expedited the shipping.  MUPPET BABIES.

Anyway, happy 80s overload. And Barbara Billingsley, may you rest in peace — 94 is a good, long life lived, filled with talent and happiness and family.

That and I dare you not to be singing this song for the rest of the day.

“I got [my] book deal the same time Jim and I split after five years together. While researching and writing it, I looked inside of myself and began to see what was wrong with me instead of blaming him for everything … I was a girl who pretended. I would say I liked things when I didn’t. I knew if I wanted to grow, I needed to make myself happy before I could begin to have an equal relationship with another man.”

Remember those days in elementary and middle school, where you’d hang out with a group of really fab people and because they all liked strawberry Nerds, you did too, even though you secretly fucking hated them? Like, would gag as soon as the slimy sheen of color began to dissolve on your tongue? You’d hate like hell to say that you didn’t, for fear of seeming ‘uncool,’ so you’d tolerate the bitter film coating the back of your throat ’til you could get to the water fountain on the 2nd floor next to the janitor’s closet (the one least likely to be used by your friends since it’s next to — ugh — that creepy janitor’s ‘office’)? Yeah. That’s Jenny McCarthy. Only she’s not eight years old.

Grow up, Jenny. I’m glad that you feel that you can be yourself, but those close to you at any points in time probably feel pretty gypped that you didn’t love Clerks as much as they did. Poser.

It’s probably something like ‘being the couple with the most veneered Hollywood-white teeth,’ or ‘couple most likely to be involved with your husband. Or wife.’

Happy celebrating?

It’s that time of the year again. Not Halloween, or even autumn. The time of the year I’m referring to is the three weeks leading up to Halloween in which I am bombarded by photo after photo of celebrities taking their kids to go pick out pumpkins and gourds at that motherfuckin’ Mr. Bones Pumpkin Patch. This place is like the seasonal version of The Ivy. You can get a pumpkin or a meal any place in town, but if you hit up Mr. Bones or Robertson Blvd., you’re looking to be seen. It infuriates me. Sasha and I posted about it a couple of times last year and people told me in the comments that my bitterness will be the reason I die alone. I can live and die with that.

But Punky Brewster aka Soleil Moon Frye is a childhood hero of mine, so I’mma let this one slide. Her kids are pretty cute, too.