This may look like a long-haired clown giving you a seductive stare, but it's actually vintage Bono serenading us with a holiday tune. I know people say that U2 were still cool in the 80s, but this video proves otherwise.
The band that put the "boom boom" into our hearts also brought us this holiday classic. George Michael wrote this song in 1984 and released it alongside the lesser-known half the duo, Wham!
In the early 90s, Kathie Lee's delusions of grandeur led her to film a hip hop Christmas special styled after Pee Wee's playhouse. A clip of Kathie Lee's Rock 'n Tots Cafe: A Christmas Giff after the jump.
When December comes around we all share the exact same strain on our wallets. This how-to video is here to help.
Day two of our celebration of cheese-tastic holiday songs is this little diddy made for the Scrooged soundtrack. If these two have so much love in their hearts, why isn't there a single shot of them together in this video?
In honor of our holiday spirit, we're turning our daily Retro Jam into a celebration of the cheesiest Holiday videos ever made. First up is Hall & Oates' edition of Jingle Bell Rock. Believe it.
Take still paintings of holiday gatherings, add moving human arms, and dub some risque conversation over it all and you've got this series of holiday ads by Schweppes. The result is funny, confusing, and kind of uncomfortable. Watch!
On December 3rd, 1964 NBC aired a yule-tide classic, and a sort of break-through in the world of stop motion animation.
True story: tomorrow's my fifth day off in 133 days, since starting this gig on May 9th! As such, Gawker's going dark. Kidding! But we are going dark in honor of the workforce. Enjoy Labor Day. We'll see you Tuesday.
So, I get home from a lovely day of beaching and Ross Macdonald to discover that McCain's picked a lady for his Veep-a psycho-lady Religious Right mouth-breathing fuss-nut who thinks evolution is crazy talk, that dinosaur bones are the 6,000-year-old remains of dragons, and that there's no good reason a woman should control her own body even if she's been raped by her uncle. It was quite a mindfull! So I was pondering the implications of how this will help the cynical rotting husk that was John McCain to steal this election... And then I thought, I wanna rock out and think about that stuff later. So here is the elf rocker Ronnie James Dio at the height of his elfish powers. Anyhoo, jump on in!
John McCain, who is running for president, will release his medical records to the media. To a select group of reporters, anyway. Only two print journos. It's 400 pages, and no one can make copies. And it will happen on the afternoon before a three-day weekend. Hah. An amazing example of the Friday Night Newsdump. But we've all become sooo media savvy that it just looks pathetic and worrying. What the hell is in there? For that matter, what's up with his wife's tax returns? She won't say, though she will pose for Vogue looking all saucy on a couch. Click to enlarge! Surely if McCain is healthy enough for that fox, he's healthy enough to lead the nation! [Radar, WT]
We'll see you on the 26th! Offer void where prohibited. In event of the death or hospitalization of Lindsay Lohan, Gawker will immediately return. Christmas has been proven to be hazardous to your relationships and dignity; take with caution. "And when justice is gone, there's always force. And when force is gone, there's always Mom. Hi Mom!"
Wow, feels kind of self-indulgent around here this week. That's probably because a) there's no news, and b) we are so completely in love with ourselves and our drama and we are endlessly fascinated with what we write about best, which is us. This post will be no exception. It's all about me. Did you know it's my "Gawker birthday?" It's true! I started here a year ago today. In the intervening twelve months I've worked with six different editors, written approximately 2,500 posts, suffered through three staff transitions, and learned more about Rupert Murdoch than I know about my own family. I developed a case of pneumonia that literally almost killed me, I've never slept more than five hours a night, and, once, Nick Denton gave me the finger. ("It means you've arrived," he explained helpfully.) A man can only take so much.
Okay, okay. Valleywag's a little gay today. And "valleyntine" is a pain to the soul. But what are Valentines for, if not sickening puns?
