Madonna strikes again. It pains me to ridicule Madonna because she raised me for a few years, she was my moral compass and I looked to her for all the answers. Then, she released True Blue and married Sean Penn and I realized that everyone, even my idols, make mistakes.
The kiss? Not surprising. I’ve been telling y’all that Madonna, like JLO, is staying young by sucking the souls of the younger and more talented. Madonna is feasting on Drake, while JLo gets Iggy Azalea’s flesh to nibble for a few more years of relevance.
Check out this True Blue video to see a young Debi Mazar as backup dancer:
Shailene Woodley’s On-Set Tutor Should be Fired
I want to apologize to my eight readers; I could not watch the MTV Movie Awards. While I am intellectually-challenged, even I have my breaking point. I had to turn it off after listening to Shailene Woodley’s two rambling thank-you speeches. Wow, this beautiful, talented actor is unaware of her obvious lack of intelligence, and no, it can’t ALL be contributed to her pot intake. Can you explain to me what the following means?
“In that, I keep marveling at this idea at who we pick up on the trails along the way and who becomes our communities. What am I trying to say? I just have no idea! Looking at all of you, I know some of you, I don’t know some of you, but for all of you who have been pillars to me, thank you, and for all of you who I have been able to be a pillar for, I will continue to be a pillar for. Whoever your community is, be pillars for these people. So, let’s trailblaze on!”
Then poor Woodley somehow mistook John Green, mediocre writer of young-adult literature, with J.D. Salinger. Girlfriend, what is your on-set tutor teaching you? Some of the accolades that Ms. Woodley bestowed upon Green include the following:
“His words will transcend time because they transcend any age. There’s not one single demographic that won’t be affected by the wisdom and the compassion and the beauty that he laces into every single thing that he does in his life.”
Okay, you’ve got me, Shai, I have not even seen Fault in our
Stars, Shailene was excellent in The Descendants and I dig her Southern California stoner vibe, but enough with the phoniness, her freshness is wearing thin. I don’t have to watch The Fault in our Stars, I’ve seen it before: Two teenagers meet and argue with obvious chemistry, teenagers fall in love, hilarity and sadness ensues, parents are unfair, teenager or troubled parent dies. Life changes, like, forever. The end.
Poor Gwynnie, she just can’t catch a break.
Gwynnie published a post on Goop to illustrate what $29 a week can get a family on SNAP food stamps for a week of supplemental grocery shopping. So far, so good- Go Gwynnie! Unfortunately for Gwynnie’s likability, her findings contained seven limes, more parsley than I thought one could purchase as one time, scallions and a bunch of other rich people food.
Oh G, take it from this white, privileged, shallow gal: If I know enough not to spout on about food stamps in the U.S., you should know better. Were you smoking American Spirits during Social Studies at The Spence School? I understand that being married to Chris “Boring” Martin was a form of coolness starvation, but let’s leave the important stuff to important people. You, Gwynnie, just worry about your luscious locks, lean legs and perfect pout.
Does Coachella have to be an annual event?
Must be Coachella time of the year again because I keep getting emails from chain mall stores attempting to sell me “festival-wear” and I am visually assaulted with pictures of Hollywood starlets and Hollywood has-beens like Fergie sporting the latest in festival-street-walker fashion. These poor kids, don’t they know that after a few tabs of acid, the clothing doesn’t really matter; you just need to know where the water and the medic tent are located. That’s rock festival 101!
Ugh, I’m so old. To watch Kardashian/Jenner filth get the best seat to this festival while donning gladiator boots and $800 cut-off shorts is grosser than when Metallica headlined Lollapolooza in 1996. I remember it so well, I was decked out in the best of my “riot-girl” finery: dirty white slip, combat boots and a black bra. I’d taken care to draw the word “Slut” across my bony upper arms, dirty hair grimy on my neck, chain-smoking while Metallica fans made fun of me. Oh, those were the days,I’m so old.
Thank you Courtney Barnett.
Courtney Barnett sings and writes about the most mundane aspects of life, yet she transforms these stories of ordinariness into a dynamic tale of living life. Born in Australia, Courtney is currently rocking my world in a very comforting and quiet way. Check her out if you enjoy a folk-singer with a sense of humor, a quick wit and a terrific voice.