I really like Dave Chappelle. I loved his movie, Dave Chappelle’s Block Party, and I think he’s one of the more interesting humans to ever appear on the Oprah show. But check this noise out:
LOS ANGELES (AP) â€” Now that he’s back on the standup circuit, Dave Chappelle has a lot to say. The comic … shattered the Laugh Factory’s endurance record by taking to the comedy club’s stage for six hours and seven minutes on Sunday.
SIX HOURS. Imagine that. Being funny for six hours of comedy. That’s not even human, or possible. It’s inhuman. And impossible. Yet the guy did it. Instant diagnosis? He’s a stark raving mad fellow.
Now for the good news. I Love that. The best comedians of our time aren’t well adjusted in the slightest, they’re loons. Chappelle is currently the best in the business, I just wish I’d been there to see it. It’s something I would’ve actually told my grandchildren if I hadn’t preemptively written them out of my will so long ago.
“See, when I do this thing with my hands, it means I’m hardcore. Get it? I’m a total rebel. Fighting the man, man. You can tell by my hands. You should buy my album, particularly if you’re a suburban youth who feels most comfortable railing against the prevailing, suffocating social norms by purchasing alt-pop music on iTunes and positioning your hands just so.”
Posh & Becks hit Paris. The city, I mean. They go there. Because if they had physically hit Paris Hilton, well, we’d all be having a much better day, now wouldn’t we? [Daily Stab]
Beyonce might ditch BMG for her boyfriend’s label. [Juicy-News]
Check out the trailer for Neil Gaiman’s Stardust. [popbytes]
Oh, good, a Jessica Simpson nip slip. I am going to take the high road and be the only blogger on the planet who doesn’t make some joke insinuating that her father will sexually pleasure himself while looking at these pictures. Because I feel like that kind of goes without saying. [SOW]
Ladies and gentlemen, it’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for: it’s country night here on American Idol. Ryan’s dressed for the occasion by wearing — what else? — purple. The mentor for this week is Kellie Pickler. Oh, no, that’s only in my fantasies. (Or an SNL sketch? Lorne Michaels, call me.) It’s actually Martina McBride, who is one of those rare country artists I really like. We cut to Martina McBride in a studio, leading our remaining seven idols in what I would guess is the worst rendition of “Independence Day” you’ll come across outside of your local sorority’s body-shot/sing-along night.
Phil Stacey’s up first. Singing “Where the Blacktop Ends” by Keith Urban. We cut to this weird shot of Phil and Martina in the studio, and I think they’re talking as the director motions for them to hit their mark by the piano, so they both seem really distracted, and Martina’s asking Phil about Kansas as she walks backwards, so it seems like he’s cornering her. I have no idea why they used that shot. Phil is — thank God — not wearing his Oliver! cap tonight, and looks respectably country-cool in black pants and a black shirt with only a hint of shiny stripes. He does seem comfortable on stage tonight, and he’s walking through the audience giving people high-fives and hugs, pausing to make love to the camera every now and then, and it’s kind of working as an act. Vocally he’s nothing special tonight, but he’s holding it down. Someone didn’t think the camera work through quite right, so we have a solid ten seconds of the back of his bald little head before they figure it out. Phil has a really small head, like a character from Goonies or something. I just noticed that. Ha! Randy’s all like, “From an accomplished producer,” as he gestures to himself, “you’re going to have a career in country music.” Randy is nothing if not modest. Paula is in that weird place where I’m not sure if she’s high or stupid, but she liked it, I think. Simon liked it quite a bit. Ryan, making fun of Phil, goes “Woooo!” and makes a face that I think is supposed to be hard-core, but you know what he looks like? That’s painting, The Scream? Of that ghost-like dude? If you still have this episode TiVo’d, go to minute 8, wait ’til Ryan goes “Woooo!” and pause it. Then look at that painting. I think Ryan was the model. And then Ryan, again making fun of Phil, goes “Love you love you!” and suddenly I realize that he was the inspiration for Crank Yankers‘ Special Ed. Ryan, darling, Phil is not the one walking away from this encounter feeling silly.
JenLop (my new nickname for her) is now suing the most credible news source on the planet, the BBC. Oh no wait, I meant The National Enquirer.
DUBLIN (AP) â€” Jennifer Lopez and her husband, Marc Anthony, are suing The National Enquirer in European courts over the tabloid’s claims they were linked to a drug scandal, their Belfast lawyer said Monday.
See? What are they seeking you ask?
“a six-figure settlement”
Hmmm, that seems a little lame. Don’t you usually sue for 60 kajillion dollars and then settle for a million or so? I thought that was how it worked. They are suing because the rag alleged that they were “caught up in a heroin scandal” which is of course false. The scandal turned out to be only crack pipe related. One fun part is they are suing in Europe because:
“The First Amendment restrictions in U.S. libel law make it virtually impossible for international celebrities or other high-profile individuals to sue successfully (said their attorney Paul Tweed)”
Ugh. The First Amendement is sooooo annoying. As is having a tangible place where someone can serve you with a lawsuit. And now, the kicker! For the lawyer, Paul Tweed, this marks the second time he’s represented a high profile celebrity against the publication. Check it out:
In July 2006, he secured a published apology in the European edition of the Enquirer for an article that claimed pop singer Britney Spears was about to divorce Kevin Federline.
You see, it wasn’t until November that the two would split up. The Enquirer has got to stop trusting their psychics. Those guys are only accurate so far as alien stuff is concerned!