This was, hands-down, my favorite movie as a child. I was obsessed with it. Do you guys know the movie I’m talking about? With the super-powered kids and the bad guys trying to exploit them? And they had a really cool ice cream parlor? And a puppet theater? Remember, guys???
The film — released originally in 1975 — is being remade by Disney and titled Race to Witch Mountain.
They’ve cast The Rock in the good guy role, and some Irish guy named Ciaran Hinds as the bad guy. As for Tia and Tony, they’re being played by AnnaSophia Robb and Alexander Ludwig.
They better do this movie justice!
March 5, 2008 at 2:10 am by Evil Beet
Brit-Brit went to Millenium Dance Studios again, accompanied by who I assume is her latest friend-for-hire, laughing her ass off at one of Britney’s trademark not-funny jokes. Britney was probably just like, “I farted, ya’ll,” and this girl’s all like “AHHHHHHH HA HA HA HA HA! You are a fountain of wit, Britney!” and then Britney was all like, “Wit and farts!” and then the girl just peed herself laughing so hard.
Also, if you look closely, you can see that there’s a girl in a white tank and jeans laying down in the back seat. What’s up with that, ya’ll? She’s probably hiding from Britney’s fart.
March 5, 2008 at 1:58 am by Evil Beet
Hillary Clinton won the all-important democratic primaries in Texas and Ohio on Tuesday.
And Mike Huckabee swept the Republican vote. Nah, I’m kidding, McCain won Texas and Huckabee’s ass finally dropped out.
It’s anyone’s game still, kids.
March 5, 2008 at 1:52 am by Evil Beet
So I wrote yesterday about how American Idol contestant David Hernandez used to dance fully nude at gay strip clubs. And I also wrote about how the American Idol producers were all like, “Yeah, that’s okay with us, it was just his job, no biggie.”
And at first I was all like, “Yeah, that’s all good. I don’t think it’s a big deal either.”
And then I’m driving to my friend’s house to play Guitar Hero (that’s my new obsession) and I’m just in my car, drinking my Red Bull, enjoying my life, and all of a sudden I’m like, “Holy shit. What about Frenchie Davis?”
Frenchie, if you’ll recall, was the fan favorite booted from American Idol in 2003 after producers learned she’d posed for topless photos on a racy website. At the time, Frenchie was all like, “Dude, I was doing it to pay for college,” but the producers at Fox were all like, “We don’t care. You’re out.”
I interviewed Frenchie on camera at an event in Hollywood about six months ago. Before the interview began, her publicist pulled me aside and was like, “Whatever you do, do not ask her about American Idol. Don’t even say the words. She doesn’t want to talk about it.” So obviously it’s still a sore subject. (And, for the record, the interview started off really rough — she was guarded and rude and I hated her — but once it became clear that I was not going to make her talk about American Idol, she was a total sweetheart and we had a great time. It turns out her best friend is Eva Pigford — the ANTM winner — and she told me this really cute story about how Frenchie had to move out of her NYC apartment on short notice but was really busy with auditions and shows, so Eva came over while she was gone and packed up her entire apartment for her. That’s a true friend.)
So why is David’s stripper past a non-issue, while Frenchie’s topless photos were cause for expulsion?
When the nude photos of Antonella Barba surfaced last season, this same issue came up. But I get the difference. Antonella took those pictures privately and they leaked, whereas Frenchie’s pictures were taken for pay and public consumption. But I don’t get the difference here. Both David and Frenchie got naked for pay. Professionally. And legally, I might add.
Why is David’s past somehow more palatable for the producers? Is it more acceptable for men to take their clothes off for money? I demand an explanation.
March 5, 2008 at 1:39 am by Evil Beet
I love me some Ally Hilfiger.
I know she’s like a Z-list celebrity, but, come on, people, I also know you watched Rich Girls and loved it despite yourselves.
When she’s not busy being a reality TV star, or producing documentaries or fashion shows or vomit, Ally Hilfiger is painting. And, on Tuesday night, she debuted her latest set of paintings, titled “Series of Eights.”
Because they all have the number eight in them. And also because they look like an eight-year-old painted them.
Jesus, I’m such a bitch. I’m sorry, Ally. I don’t know you and I don’t know art. But you starred in a reality show called Rich Girls once, and that means I get to be scathingly cruel to you whenever and wherever I so choose. It was like writing a blank check of meanness and handing it to the media. You didn’t know that when you were 18, did you?
March 5, 2008 at 1:15 am by Evil Beet
Here’s our gal Paris, getting all half-naked for 944, while pointing out all the respectable things she does with her life.
“It makes me angry because people don’t know the real me,” she says. “Yes, I do get paid to go to parties. But when you see me at a party, I’m always working or promoting something. I work with so many organizations, especially Childrens Hospital in Los Angeles and the Make-A-Wish Foundation.”
Yeah, Paris, when you go to parties, you’re always promoting something: yourself.
Did I ever tell you guys about when I used to work for 944? This was before it was a lifestyle mag; it was a porn studio back then. The name of the magazine comes from the address of our original studios: we were at 944 S. Mill in Tempe, Arizona. You know, right next to the tattoo parlor, although I was instructed to tell callers that we were “next to the Dairy Queen.” The Dairy Queen was actually two doors over, but the owners thought that sounded classier than saying we were next to the tattoo parlor; I found this point to be arguable at best.
Anyway, I was doing web development for them, along with a group of 15-year-old boys they’d recruited out of the local high schools. It was one of the more surreal experiences of my life. I’d be sitting in the main offices with these horny teenage boys, and the owners would be leading nude models in and out of the studios. Their goal at the time was to be a “classy” porn studio, so they’d take all these artsy pictures, and then — as the only woman working in the entire place — the pictures were presented to me, so that I could make the final determination as to whether or not they were classy. There was one that I seriously had to stare at for like 30 seconds before I could figure out what it was; it was two nude women, standing stomach to stomach, legs spread. The shot was taken was taken from the ground, between their legs, facing up. I was finally like, “Oh! It’s two vaginas! Pressed together! From the ground!” and they were like “Classy, right?”
Needless to say, I eventually quit. And I never gave any formal notice or even said goodbye. I just got fed up one day, turned to the pimple-faced boy sitting next to me, said “Tell them I quit,” and left. So that was shitty of me and, if you guys are reading this, I’m sorry about that. But about six months later I ran into one of the owners at a Tokyo Express. Rather than berating me, he was like, “Hey, I’m glad I ran into you. We’re turning 944 into a lifestyle magazine. We need some good writers. Do you want a job?” and I politely told him that I’d think about it and then never called him back. In retrospect, it was a remarkably stupid decision.
Here’s Paris. Being classy in that special way that only 944 understands.