Sheila Addison was a psychology professor at John F. Kennedy University in California. At the same time, she was performing in a San Francisco burlesque show, the Hubba Hubba Revue, under the name "Professor Shimmy" (sample performance above.) The school decided that was too scandalous, and fired her. Now she's suing.
Since Christina Aguilera and Cher conspired to ruin the good name of Neo-Burlesque last fall, it's up to these Southern Belle-busters to win it back. Although this clip is cable-safe, how does your boss feel about tasseled pasties?
[Singer Cher removes her coat as she arrives for the British premiere of her new movie, Burlesque. Photo via AP.]
Who knew! We're certainly shocked. But not more shocked than when we heard that Tangled managed to beat Harry Potter in the slow-ish post-Thanksgiving weekend. That's a big deal! As big a deal as Burlesque? Uh, no. Definitely bigger.
Despite being weighed down by heaps of cranberry sauce and Brussels sprouts (those are everyone's favorite Thanksgiving foods, right?), people managed to haul themselves out to the multiplexes to do their American duty this weekend. And they mostly wanted fantasy.
Thanksgiving is here! Which means mashed potatoes, so yay, but it also means family. Family's the worst! So get out of the house and go see a movie this holiday weekend. Will it be naked ladies or... nearly-naked ladies?
Burlesque, the gayest movie made since Prince of Tides, opens in theaters today and people are so excited! Cher! Christina Aguilera! But should they be? Let's take a look at the not-so-good reviews that have come pouring in.
Fall is the best time for movies. All the serious awards-contenders strut their stuff, the thrillers are darker and grittier, and the romances tend to be weepies. Here's a guide to what's coming out from now until the new year.
Don't tell Esquire editor-in-chief David Granger that the concept of "magabrands"—magazines that have "extended" their "brands" to new media, old media and non-media"—is out-of-control bankrupt. Esquire North is the magazine's sprawling Harlem three-level condo on Central Park North; each room and everything in it was decorated by an Esquire advertiser. To have the honor of furnishing arcade seats in eel skin in the gaming room, both Kenneth Cole and Intel had to purchase at least one page (ooh!) of advertising. Last night all these brands threw a party for Riverkeeper. We don't care really about fisheries on the Hudson, but we do care about Robert F. Kennedy Jr., who is the main litigator for the environmental outfit. He is so boyishly handsome and so charismatic and so, well, Kennedy-like! Semi-socialite Melissa Berkelhammer stood alone near the panini bar as Kennedy gave a speech. And—was she wearing a sad pony mask?
