Okay, I m outta here. Your witty Gawker editor Jessica Coen returns tomorrow to take back the reigns. Many thanks to Jessica, Matt, Lock, and Choire, and thank you for all of your emails. I especially enjoyed the hate mail. Like when William emailed in to say that Noelle Hancock is to blogging as Chevy Chase is to talk show hosting.
This is your captain speaking (aka Gawker guest editor Noelle Hancock). Just wanted to say that on Monday when I asked for readers to send in constructive criticism, that was really a courtesy more than anything else—you know, to make you feel a part of things? Truthfully, I m really not interested. In fact, there s a sticker on the back of my laptop that reads: "How's my blogging? Dial 1-800 EAT-SHIT.
· You make the call: Is this studio trying to "test film release standards" by releasing National Lampoon's Blackball on DVD four days after its US theatrical release, or just dumping a year-and-a-half-old piece of crap into theaters because the still-hot Vince Vaughn is in the movie? [via Movie Marketing Blog]
· Ryan Seacrest can't get any respect from headline writers. C'mon, CNN, he swears he's straight!
· MILFs are so totally red hot right now.
· The NY Observer presents the lost Paris Hilton sketch that was scrapped when Hilton supposedly refused to be on stage with low-class legend Joey Buttofuoco.
· Is Lindsay Lohan hooking up with Johnny Knoxville in between Hurricane chugging contests in New Orleans?
· Brad Bird, writer/director of The Incredibles, signs copies of the book The Art of The Incredibles at the Grove's Barnes and Noble. Sadly, we don't think the book includes nude mock-ups of Elastigirl, but the first 250 animation-obsessed fanboys will also receive a copy of the Oscar-nominated screenplay.
· Culture alert: The Los Angeles Contemporary Exhibitions on Hollywood Blvd. hosts an opening reception for two new
exhibitions, "Marking Time" and "A Walk to Remember." We owe this one to you for that cheap Elastigirl remark.
· TV-less TV emcee J. Keith van Straaten hosts What’s My Line? at the ACME Comedy Theatre on La Brea. This week’s panelists include Ann Magnuson, Rick Overton, blogging's Wil Wheaton, and a "famous mystery guest." Last week, the surprise celebrity was Ed Begley, Jr, so clearly anything can happen tonight.
· The geniuses (we aren't using that term flippantly) who brought us Lohan Freestyle make a triumphant return with another certain hit, Jolie Homewrecker.
· Franklin Avenue's (and Variety's) Michael Schneider ponders the implications of Joel Stein's pilot for ABC: "What will happen to Stein's column if the show is picked up? It's just a once-a-week gig, so I suppose he could continue... but would that be just too much conflict of interest? Would you want a entertainment columnist who is working closely with divisions of News Corp. and Disney?" We're going to toss and turn thinking about this one tonight. [via LA Observed]
· When we saw Burt Reynolds' Super Bowl commercial, we asked the same question.
· The Malis in Wonderland blog bets a million bucks on The Wedding Date.
· My Blog Is Poop marinates in Swanklash, wondering how her movies might've been better if the real Karate Kid had done them.
· Trey Parker tells the Aristocrats joke, and it's absolutely filthy.
· Indie rock royalty Modest Mouse does the second night of its is back-to-back-to-back gigs (that's three straight shows for those of you following along at home) at the Wiltern. Once you've been sufficiently rocked, you can lavish them with groupie love at the after-party at Cinespace.
· While some former cast members of In Living Color are counting their awards-season trophies, others (like Tommy Davidson, who's at the Improv tonight) are still "keeping it real" on the stand-up circuit.
· In case you weren't one of the roughly ten thousand people that crammed into Skylight Books on Friday to see Bruce Wagner, Hollywood's favorite novelist son, read from his new novel, he and his celebrity pals will once again dramatically recreate scenes from The Chrysanthemum Palace at Book Soup. Make sure you bring some plastic beads to honor the Mardi Gras holiday. Bruce will love it.
Like drunk.
· Not content to merely sit through the Super Sanitized Bowl, TVGasm recaps the proceedings in painstaking detail. Masochists.
· "If Michael Bay is a Ferrari, and McG is a Ford Mustang, Brett Ratner is a broken down Pinto with flat tires." So sayeth the IMDb message board for one Brett Ratner, although they're being incredibly generous to Bay and McG. We guess the analogy would've fallen apart if they used three Pintos.
· Hold on a minute...when did Half Pint get so gosh darn juggsy? And we don't care what anyone says, we studied the photo for hours and can't detect any kind of nipple slip. [via ToGawp/Fleshbot]
· Slate rates the Super Bowl ads. For the record, our favorite was the one where Burt Reynolds got racked by a guy in a cheap bear suit. Why stop with the balls, Smokey? Go for the kill next time.
· Naomi Kawase, "Japan's most famous woman filmmaker," (we can't name another one so we'll take their word for it) will appear in person to screen three personal documentaries at the Red Cat downtown.
· The DIY Convention at the Roosevelt Hotel teaches aspiring filmmakers, writers, and musicians how to give a finger to multimedia conglomerates and make their own creative products outside the system. Not covered: starving to death and dying in obscurity.
· Concert round-up: Burning Brides at Spaceland (free!); Mia Doi Todd at The Echo (free!); indie rock juggernaut Modest Mouse plays the first of three nights at the Wiltern (not so free!).
Come in. I ve been expecting you. For the next few days, Jessica is off doing some fashion something-or-other (I wasn t really listening) and is having me, Noelle Hancock, fill in. Mostly I m just here to make sure there are no air bubbles in Gawker co-editor Matt Haber s syringe, but would still appreciate any gossip or nasty remarks you might have for me (tips@gawker.com). I ve never blogged before so feel free to send along any sage advice. Or just sage. I m making stuffing for dinner.
· ArcLight face-off coming: Rocky vs. Rocky.
· New blog alert, and this one's getting bookmarked immediately: Ugly Breast Implants [NSFW, via Fleshbot]
· Given all the Desperate Housewives outing chatter, this is certainly an interesting eBay auction title: "Female Perversions DVD Marcia Cross Nude lesbian stuff"
· Rick Fox stuns Hollywood dining companions by talking to regular people. Is he trying to destroy the entire social order?
· "LIKE WHT YOU SAY ABOUT OSAMA BIN LADEN: WE DONT KNOW A LOT - BUT WE ARE FRAID - BECAUSE OF 11.9. - SO WITHOUT ANY INFORMATIONS ABOUT THE ALIENS WE ALL FEEL NOTHING - WE ARE ALL CONFUSED BUT LETS SAY YOU NEVER WOULD HAVE SHOWED AN ALIEN IN SIGN - IT WOULD BE A DESASTER - NOBODY WOULD TAKE IT SERIOUS!!" A frustrated screenwriter reproduces e-mails of Alone in the Dark director Uwe Boll.
· Ossie Davis and Dean Wormer die. Hollywood holds it breath and waits for the inevitable third celebrity passing.
Friday
· The SuicideGirls will sign copies of their 2005 illustrated calendar and book at Meltdown Comics on Sunset from 6-9 p.m. Go and get your calendars signed, but for the love of God, if you try to shake one of their hands, please don't use your "special" hand.
· Panthers play the Echo tonight...but by now, everyone's aware that Beck has dropped in on two consecutive Friday nights for "secret" shows. Draw your own conclusions.
· Bruce Wagner recruits some famous friends to read from his latest novel, The Chrysanthemum Palace at Skylight Books. Oh, you probably want us to drop those names. OK, here you go, starfuckers: Dana Delaney, Beverly D'Angelo, and James Ellroy.
Saturday
· Because just one secret Beck show per weekend isn't enough: Check him out at Club 1650. In other concert-related news, the Elected are at the Troubadour and Lewis Black rants his way through the Wiltern.
· Daniel Knauf, creator/executive producer of HBO's Carnivale, speaks to the Alameda Writers Group about "Surviving Success, or I've Broken into Show Biz, Now What?" A drug problem and a slow descent into madness, usually.
Sunday
· Enjoy the Super Bowl and its delightfully metallic nipple-guard-free halftime extravaganza. At least let's hope so—we don't need to see Paul McCartney showing off those withered areolas of his.
· And for those of you who want to take your Super Bowl high-fiving to the next level, Silver Lake's very own Akbar hosts "Fag Football" starting at 2:30 p.m. Insert obvious scoring joke here.
Brace yourself—I'm taking most of next week off to pursue other projects. Namely, I'm going to try my hand at model-feeding. I'll be the fairy godmother of Bryant Park, doling out iceberg lettuce and cigarettes to those in need. The prospect of charity work is so exciting, isn't it?!
Despite the bank account jammed with millions and millions of dollars, the staggering worldwide fame, and the constant security detail keeping crazies from trying to destabilize the state government with a well-placed stab-wound, the Governator's just a chain-restaurant-pizza-chomping guy like the rest of us! Who knew? Let's all get cracking on that "foreigners can be President" amendment and get one of our own into the White House.
· The intriguingly named LA Weekly Passion Party (equally intriguingly sponsored by Erotica LA) gets nasty at the Hotel Figueora downtown. Somewhat less intriguing is the $25 cover charge, but such is the price of passion.
· Two concerts for you listening and/or scenester pleasure: M.I.A. plays the Knitting Factory, while Electric Six (whom you undoubtedly know from their hits "Danger! High Voltage!" and "Gay Bar") overtake the Key Club.
· The NYT's Sharon Waxman signs Rebels on the Backlot: Six Maverick Directors and How They Conquered the Hollywood Studio System at Book Soup. We read that her feud with David O. Russell (one of the book's subjects) is over now, but that's no reason not to ask her all about it in excruciating detail.
· Rhino Records hosts screenings at 5, 7, and 9 pm of a film of what they call the "Holy Grail of in-stores," Nirvana's 1989 appearance at the record shop. Better show up early; if the newly corpulent version of Courtney Love turns up, there might not be much room for true fans.
· Hem and David Mead play the Troubadour, an event our "cool" intern scoffs at thusly: "Boring corporate white dudes in their thirties are stoked." We think David Mead's a great songwriter, and we're totally not "corporate" even though our evil boss owns a worldwide, multinational blogging empire.
· David Israel reads and signs Behind Everyman: A Novel for Guys and the Women Who Rescue Them at Book Soup. Sounds like a great place to pick up chicks!
· Towleroad continues its comprehensive coverage of all developments in the timeline of gay cowboy epic Brokeback Mountain by filling in the blanks in some screenshots from its "cockteaser trailer."
· Words fail us when trying to describe the mangled mess that's replaced Jackie Stallone's face, but we'll take a crack at describing it as "watery Play-doh."
· The Tinseltown Tattle-Tale drops by Funnsylvania for a little gossip session...why aren't we getting these hot scoops?
· Edward Furlong can't shut up about lobsters: "Lobsters, they are great spirits and they need to roam free." Especially if you're shitfaced at the time you realize that lobster liberation is such a lofty goal.
· Disney is opening an entire unit dedicated to the skillful knocking-off of their Pixar collaborations.
