Shifty Likes His Coffee Strong

Oh good, still there.

Last night at Starbucks, while waiting for her medium vanilla soy latte (I refuse to call it "venti" on the grounds that is pretentious and annoying as shit), my friend Ginger overheard a guy behind her ask for an Americano with "four, no, make it five shots" of espresso. Curious, Ginger turned around to see what kind of nut would drink such a super-charged caffeine concoction and... lo and behold it was Seth "Shifty" Binzer of Crazy Town (dumb name) and most recently VH1's "Celebrity Rehab" (dumb show).

Now, for those of you who don't know it, a) an Americano is essentially espresso coffee (anywhere from one to three shots) plus hot water and, b) Seth was in "Celebrity Rehab" for smoking crack. Well, it seems our boy is trading one addiction for another. Soon he'll be asking for "nine, no, make that ten shots" of espresso and won't even bother with the damn hot water. Hasn't he heard of Peet's though? Doesn't he know that Starbucks is the meth (nasty but gets the job done) of the coffee world?

Let's just hope they don't come up with a way to smoke the stuff because you know if they do our boy will be on that like a Pit Bull on a two-year-old.

Heath Ledger: R.I.P.

I'm shocked, saddened, and speechless.

Katie Holmes' Tongue: Potential Trouble Source

Out of Tom's sight for a moment, Katie's tongue tries to make a run for it.

Macroglossia: The abnormal enlargement of the tongue. In rare cases, macroglossia occurs as an isolated finding that is present at birth (congenital). In many cases, macroglossia may occur secondary to a primary disorder that may be either congenital (e.g., Down syndrome, Beckwith-Wiedemann syndrome) or acquired (e.g., as a result of trauma, marrying Tom Cruise, Stockholm Syndrome). Symptoms associated with macroglossia may include noisy, high-pitched breathing, snoring, and referring to husbands as "amazing" and two-year-old girls as "magical." In some cases, the tongue may protrude from the mouth, as seen above.

Seriously Kate, why bother with all the expensive designer clothes and thousand dollar haircuts if you're going to keep doing the tongue between the teeth move? And speaking of teeth, why haven't you fixed them yet? I'm not advocating getting veneers that look like dentures (See below for a scare) but round, jagged, uneven teeth belong on a hillbilly not on a wannabe style icon.



Is there anything in my teeth? You sure?

The Final Frontier

Ever wish you could browse the internet in 3D? Yeah, I know, me neither. But sometimes it takes trying something you never knew you wanted to get to the point where you wonder how you ever did without it.

Fresh off its debut at the Consumer Electronics Show, SpaceTime is a cool new browser that launches pages as stacks in 3D space. All you have to do is click on a window in the background to bring it forward. This is especially handy when searching through videos and images (YouTube and eBay, anyone?).

Having a tough time getting your mind around just what this means? Well, just head over to www.spacetime.com and see for yourself. I think you'll like what you see. The good news-- it's free. The bad news-- Mac users will have to wait for their version.

Smiling is Overrated

You think my teeth are yellow? You should see my toenails.

What happened to George Clooney's teeth? Coffee and Merlot are not your friends, George.

Image: Wenn

Hair Don't

Recently there was a blind item and subsequent reveal in crazydaysandnights about Shakira. It was alleged that upon entering an elevator Shakira became so enamored of her reflection in the mirrored ceiling above that she made her peeps push everyone into the corner while she preened.

Well, I checked with a source who spends quite a bit of time with the Shakira camp and he backed the story up. It seems our little Shakira is incredibly vain and is more concerned with her hair than with helping the poor children of Latin America. Sure, she cares about the kids, but if her hair isn't just right... look out. When I offered that her vanity might spring from a deep insecurity, my source told me she was anything but deep or insecure. In fact, it seems she is secure to point of narcissism.

Sadly, I can relate to the hair obsession. If I'm having a bad hair day I tend to become a tad unreasonable (some say hysterical) myself. Years ago, when I was a bridesmaid at a friend's wedding I became so crazed that my hair wasn't behaving that I shamelessly announced to the bride that I couldn't possibly walk down the aisle until I got my hair right. Yes, it was HER day, but it was MY hair. In the end, I came to my senses and walked down the aisle, but I know how Shakira feels.

Image: NY Times

Nabokov is a Blowhard

I recently finished reading Vladimir Nabokov's excruciatingly irritating, alleged masterpiece "Lolita." I carried this book with me over two Christmas breaks in Carmel and through two jury duty stints in downtown LA (a gang murder trial and then a less titilliating domestic violence trial with a dog walker victim who liked to get black-out drunk, pull out her tampon and chuck it at her boyfriend's head-- Yeah, I would have hit her too).

No, I don't read at a second grade reading level. The book was that tedious. So tedious that I would go months without even thinking of cracking it open. Naturally, when I finally did I'd read maybe a page or two before promptly falling asleep. I did read some other books in between. Nevertheless, the specter of "Lolita" the novel haunted me, vexed me and irritated me much like "Lolita" the nymph haunted, vexed and irritated Humbert Humbert.

I had to finish what I started. Why? Because the novel was considered a classic and a masterpiece. And I am considered an intellectual and a bibliophile. I knew I had to finish the damn book when my ordinarily oblivious mother said to me, "You're still reading that?" I mean, this is a woman who, when referring to a movie she might have seen, often says something like, "You know, that movie where the man falls in love with the woman with that actor I don't like with the short brown hair…"

To say "Lolita" is a little dull is to say Eva Longoria is a little annoying. Nabokov's novel is ridiculously overrated, his prose mastubatory, his style self-indulgent. Okay, so there were a few passages in the book where his writing showed some flashes of skill (I will refrain from labeling it brilliance). But, in the end, Nabokov's circular, pun-heavy, longwinded prose infuriated me to such a degree that I decided I would make it my mission to tell anyone who would listen to stay the hell away from this pretentious piece-of-shit novel. So, without further adieu: Stay away from this prententious piece-of-shit novel! Consider yourself warned.



Eva prepares for her evening with Tony.

Older, Fatter, Shorter

Peter Falk in his younger, slimmer, and taller days.

I just saw Peter Falk at the Beverly Hills Whole Foods. He looked older, fatter, and shorter than on screen but his bewildered expression was the same as always. Who knew a trench coat could be so slimming? He seemed nice though.

Speaking of Whole Foods, I spotted Jodie Foster there too a couple of months back. She looked tiny and very nondescript as she foraged for greens at the salad bar. I almost didn't recognize her in her mom jeans and sneakers. She's a cool lady though. A friend of mine has worked with Ms. Foster and has nothing but good things to say about her.

Perhaps the Huckabee clan should invest in a few trench coats for their next Christmas card. I wonder if they even make them that big? All I can say is God help us all if these crackers actually make it into the White House. Wait a minute. I take that back. I think invoking the name of God is what got us in this mess in the first place.



At least they opted for vertical stripes.


Images: peterfalk.com, wonkette

Woof

Yo, dude... you got any treats on you?


I've seen a few photos of Orlando Bloom at the Laurel Canyon dog park floating around the web the last couple of weeks so I thought I should mention I saw him there myself a few days before Christmas. He was there with his girlfriend, model Miranda Kerr, and a miniature Yorkie, not one of those random big dogs he keeps getting snapped with.

Miranda and I briefly exchanged words about our dogs-- she wanted to know the breed of my gorgeous black Pom, Pearl (her name has been changed to protect the wicked... me). Miranda was very pretty but nothing about her look or demeanor screamed Victoria Secret model. I didn't even know who she was until after the sighting. I will say she seemed very nice and she was very pretty but pretty in a very accessible way. She was nearly make-up free and wore her shortish hair pulled back in a ponytail. Also, she was rocking a really nice pair of black riding boots.

As for Mr. Bloom-- he spent most of the time on his cell phone. I heard him utter the words "wicked" and "rubbish" but didn't hear much else (damn him). He did manage to give Miranda a casual smooch when he finally did tear himself away from the phone. Orlando looked pretty much like he does on screen-- cute but nothing special. He's never done too much for me, to tell you the truth. I don't get it. Now, David Duchovny, who seems like nothing special on screen, is hot, hot, hot in the flesh. I met him at a party in Venice a few months back and let me tell you, that man is sex on legs. But I digress.

This is my hot bitch, Pearl.

Rich and Anonymous

I'm so glad I'm not famous. I wouldn't mind being rich, of course. But famous... no thanks. Why? Because then I wouldn't have to deal with pictures of my flat, white ass all over the internet. And... no, my ass is not flat. But I still wouldn't want it all over the internet.

Below is Courtney Cox-Arquette on vacation in Mexico with the aforementioned flat, white ass. But where is Coco?





Image: Yeeeah

Happy New Year, by the way.