Showing posts with label south park. Show all posts
Showing posts with label south park. Show all posts

Friday, February 22, 2008

George Clooney is a bit Fake

Especially if this Radar article is to be believed

Indeed, for the past few years [Clooney's] public image has hovered above those of his famous colleagues like a gleaming bubble rising from a heavily perfumed bath. But recently, Clooney's impossibly flawless exterior seems to have taken on too much air, with reports of some very un-Clooney-like behavior. There was, for instance, that motorcycle crash in Weehawken, New Jersey, which left girlfriend Sarah Larson with a broken toe (the parties blame each other, and the case is still under investigation), and a near-fistfight with romance-novel cover boy Fabio in November. Suddenly, Clooney's become the bubble people are lining up to pop.

The most recent salvo was fired by, of all people, Rupert Everett, who in a December 15 interview with the UK Independent, took aim at the actor's unusually diverse résumé: "Clooney thinks that provided he does films which are politically committed he's allowed to do Ocean's Eleven, Twelve, and Thirteen. But the Ocean's movies are a cancer to world culture. They're destroying us."

Everett didn't confine his comments to Clooney's filmic output. "He's not the brightest spark on the boulevard," he went on, predicting, "He'll be president one day. Mark my words, if he's straight, he'll be president." Though Everett seems to have meant it as an insult (and in the waning days of the Bush years, it's gotta sting), Clooney's name has, in fact, been bandied about recently as a possible candidate for governor of California, and, according to gossip columnist Cindy Adams, Arnold himself is fanning the flames. (Of the buzz, the actor has said, "Believe me, you don't want me in politics." Self-deprecating, sexy, yet slyly ambiguous—that's Clooney!)

But increasingly, an avid anti-Clooney faction is emerging. No one, save Everett, wants to go on the record, but under cover of anonymity the tales emerge, sprinkled in many cases with a dose of real resentment. According to Hollywood insiders, Clooney is an overhyped egomaniac, a phony, and a "bully" with a "whopping temper." And worst of all, at least in Hollywood: He can't open a movie.

"Oh. you mean Mr. Beautiful, Mr. Nice, Mr. Politically Correct, and All That Other Crap Guy?" growled a formidable Hollywood agent when asked about the actor. "He's the perfect human being, except that he has the biggest ego in the world and never lets the public know because it wouldn't be the right kind of image."

Lately, though, we've been treated to tiny glimpses of that other Clooney. Back in August, for instance, an Italian reporter at the Venice Film Festival asked him how he squared Michael Clayton's critique of corporate greed with his recent ad for Nespresso, given the international boycott of Nestlé for pushing what critics say is potentially harmful infant formula in developing countries.

The Clooney Bin from RADAR on Vimeo.
As he listened to the question being translated on a headset, a deeply tanned Clooney ran through an amazing array of expressions (annoyed, condescending, threatening, confused, disgusted...) before offering the most dismissive response imaginable: "Yeah, okay—look, I'm not going to apologize to you for trying to make a living every once in a while," he offered before mentioning his efforts in the Sudan and concluding with a wave of the hand, "It's sort of an irritating question."

The actor was dining at the swanky Hollywood eatery Madeo when a camera flash raised his ire. He seems to have thought the group of women at a nearby table were snapping his picture, but in fact they were documenting their evening with another sex symbol. Harlequin heartthrob Fabio was participating in a charity event on behalf of the 11-99 Foundation, benefiting California Highway Patrol family members—and Clooney, for once, was in the background.

As Fabio tells it, one of the six women at his table informed him that "a gentleman" a few tables behind him was flipping the bird every time she took a picture. Recognizing Clooney, Fabio says he approached the actor's table to explain the situation.

"He says, 'Fuck you,' and tried to push me—but I didn't move, and instead he fell back," Fabio recalls. "Then I got in his face, and I called him every name in the book. And he says, 'Get away from me, you big thing.'" Fabio's impression of Clooney's voice is decidedly unmanly. He also notes that the actor appeared to be in his cups.

The former cover boy returned to his table, but says he finally lost his temper when the actor dropped by on his way out to call one woman a "fat bitch" and another a "fat cow."

"That's when I got up, but he ran out of the restaurant," Fabio says, adding philosophically, "It doesn't matter how much money you have. If you're white trash, you're always white trash. He's not even half a man."

Clooney may owe his sinking reputation, like so many pop cultural phenomena, to South Park.
They parodied the actor in Team America: World Police, and pounced again after Clooney's 2006 Oscar acceptance speech for Syriana. "We are a little bit out of touch in Hollywood every once in a while," the actor proclaimed. "I think it's probably a good thing. We're the ones who talked about AIDS when it was just being whispered, and we talked about civil rights when it wasn't really popular."


In the 2006 South Park episode, the speech gives rise to a cloud of smugness that, combined with the emissions of hybrid cars, ultimately endangers the nation. It is, says a local weatherman, "the perfect storm of self-satisfaction."

It was widely felt that Clooney's self-righteousness got the better of him, for instance, during his infamous 2002 dispute with his longtime agent at CAA, Michael Gruber. The conflict involved Clooney's purchase of Villa Oleandra, on the shore of Lake Como. Gruber, who helped steer the actor from prime-time television to his first blockbuster hit, The Perfect Storm, introduced the sellers to Clooney, and contemplated pocketing a $250,000 finder's fee for his efforts. "I introduced friends to George," Gruber later told Variety. "While a finder's fee was discussed, and disclosed to Clooney, it was never expected, and it was never received."

When Clooney heard about the proposed payment, he went ballistic, apparently making such an issue over the incident that Gruber was forced to leave CAA. "He ruined that guy in this town," claims a well-placed source with a major talent agency. "Maybe Gruber was an idiot to try it, but get over it! Change agents, move on! It's enough that he lost his job. But that wasn't enough for George. He just had to ruin his career. He had to kill him." (Clooney declined to comment.)

Before running afoul of Clooney, Gruber repped the likes of Brett Ratner and Ice Cube. After a brief return to agency work at ICM in 2005, he's currently working in the nightclub business.

"George has a whopping temper. I mean volcanic," asserts a well-placed studio executive who has worked with Clooney in the past, adding that alcohol often helps bring out the beast in him.The executive points to Clooney's dustup with Good Night, and Good Luck producer Simon Franks at an afterparty for the film's London premiere at the Floridita nightclub on November 3, 2005.

"Depending on who you believe," says the studio exec, who spoke with a number of witnesses to the event, "it was either that Simon Franks was trying to pick up Clooney's girlfriend, or that Clooney was mad because he went outside to get his limo in the back alley and it wasn't there, or that somebody just looked at somebody the wrong way and he went off. It was a late-night—maybe not a brawl—but a good, solid fistfight."

Various accounts of the fight were reported in the UK tabloids, most of which pegged Clooney as the aggressor.

"George was livid and trying to knock the living daylights out of the other guy," a witness told the London Sun. Clooney's publicist, Stan Rosenfield, explained things this way: It had "to do with someone being unkind to a woman. No punches were thrown, [but] George told the person to knock it off."

Clooney himself released a statement the following day, declaring, "I won't stand by while someone is being insulted and maligned."

Whatever the truth, the event apparently so rankled Clooney that three months later, he was still holding a grudge, according to the Daily Telegraph, which claimed the actor had Franks barred from Harvey Weinstein's glitzy BAFTA party at London nightclub The Hospital.

he responded to a savage review of his directorial debut, Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, by egging the house of the writer, Los Angeles Times movie critic Kenneth Turan. "He and a bunch of guys who were all in black tie got in a limo, and they each took a dozen eggs," recalls a studio suit who heard the tale from the actor himself. "They went by Turan's house and they egged it.

When Turan began telling the story, the exec continues, "George then used that to his advantage. He contacted the editor of the Los Angeles Times and basically said, 'It's bad enough that Kenny Turan has lambasted all my movies, and particularly the one I directed, but now he's going around saying I've egged his house. For God's sake, I'm a 43-year-old man! I mean, will he stop at nothing?'"

Perhaps Clooney's biggest scrap was with director David O. Russell on the set of Three Kings. Russell and Clooney reportedly had a tense relationship from the start because Clooney was not Russell's first choice for the role. According to Sharon Waxman's Hollywood tell-all, Rebels on the Backlot, the director even went so far as to make Clooney do yogic breathing exercises to curb the actor's tendency to squint when he delivered his lines. Depending on which version you believe, the two either almost came to blows or Russell wound up on the receiving end of a Clooney headlock. One thing that cannot be disputed is that Clooney kicked Russell's ass in the PR spin war that followed.

"I would not stand for him humiliating and yelling and screaming at crew members, who weren't allowed to defend themselves," the actor told Vanity Fair in October 2003. "I don't believe in it, and it makes me crazy. So my job was to humiliate the people who were doing the humiliating."

"George Clooney can suck my dick," Russell responded, adding, "He's a really good person, and I'm a really bad person, right? He's a super-political, extremely manipulative guy, and he's not an artist. I think George is super-invested in making himself look like a good guy all the time. I think George will be president."

Anyone inclined to take Russell's side was likely persuaded otherwise when a clip of the director verbally abusing Lily Tomlin on the set of I Heart Huckabees was leaked to YouTube last year. Speculation as to its origins immediately pointed to Clooney.

"Clooney paid the [cameraman] to release it," insists the well-placed agent. "It was all him."

George Clooney is as entitled to his occasional missteps as anyone—that is, he would be, say his critics, if his movies earned money. Unfortunately, they rarely do. "Look at his box office!" says the power agent. "The bottom line is, the only movies he's made money on are either movies costarring Brad Pitt, Julia Roberts, Matt Damon, and Mark Wahlberg, or one starring a giant wave. Everything else: nothing."

Even Michael Clayton, for which Clooney was tipped as a likely Oscar nominee, has been fairly flat, bringing in just $39 million on an estimated $25 million budget—a payday that wouldn't make up even half the losses on last year's ill-fated Clooney vehicle, a black-and-white World War II noir called The Good German, which earned just $1.3 million of its estimated $32 million budget. One prominent screenwriter sees that film as a rare case in which Clooney eagerly spread the credit around: "It was always promoted as starring George Clooney, Tobey Maguire, and Cate Blanchett—though clearly it was George's movie."

"When that thing completely cratered, no stink got attached," notes the screenwriter with annoyance.

Actually, Clooney's big-screen career has generated quite a lot of stink for such a major celebrity. Excluding the star-studded Ocean's Eleven and its sequels, which have made a fortune for Warner Bros., most of Clooney's films have actually lost money at the domestic box office. Even the critically acclaimed Steven Soderbergh film Out of Sight, costarring Jennifer Lopez, failed to make back the $48 million it cost.

The fact that Soderbergh and Clooney had final cut on the films they produced was intended as a buffer against studio interference. But some directors soon found that they had more to worry about from the partners themselves. "They didn't always stand up for the artist," recalls the studio exec, "which was the thing that they were promising. Sometimes it was just ego-driven stuff, and then there were other occasions where it was like, 'Well, yeah, but we see it differently and we're going to get what we want.'"

The exec reports that during the production company's six-year run, numerous talent felt they'd been undercut by the duo—among them writer/director Ted Griffin, who was signed to helm his script Rumor Has It, but was sacked after 10 days of filming. "Famously, the biggest fight was with Syriana director Steve Gaghan," recalls the exec, who had direct knowledge of the day-to-day production. "Syriana is the most regretful case, because they wound up cutting a lot of the heart out of the movie," he continued, noting that at least four scenes were deleted "that [Gaghan] was very dedicated to keeping in."

In an interview with the Financial Times, Gaghan said Soderbergh "ruined my movie" by shaving off 24 critical minutes. "It's ego and power," Gaghan told interviewer Nigel Andrews. "End of story." At which point, Andrews notes, the writer/director, who received no mention in Clooney's Oscar acceptance speech, unleashed an off-the-record "blistering attack on another significant player in Syriana who insisted on cutting the film just where, for Gaghan, its major veins and arteries were." Clooney was the only other person with final-cut approval.


And if that weren’t proof enough here are some strangely almost animation like airbrushed images from the promotional campaign for his new film Leatherheads (from the Daily Mail)



Where have you gone, non self important George Clooney?


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Sunday, February 17, 2008

The Brawling Rooneys

Sounds like a great name for something, a tv show or band, or just an offensive stereotype, either way…

(Wayne Rooney covered in the blood of his 3rd cousin, once removed, after a particularly spirited Family Board Game Night)

I love this story from the Mail just because it fits that title The Brawling Rooneys so well
And plus it fights my image of Wayne Rooney as like a British bulldog or a boxer. He looks like one, like he would get drunk in a pub and start a row…kinda like Russell Crowe on South Park

Anyway here’s the story from the Daily Mail (which is my new obsession)

The news comes after Coleen reportedly refused to invite [Wayne Rooney] the England striker's extended family to attend her big day.

The only members of Rooney's clan that Coleen is allowing to attend the ceremony this summer are his parents and two brothers, but the decision has caused massive family tension.

Coleen, 21, is understood to be anxious there is no repeat of scenes at her 18th birthday party, when police were called out after an unseemly brawl broke out between family members.

Manchester United forward Rooney, 22, later claimed that members of his family had got involved in an argument with several of the bouncers.
And Wayne Rooney has a transvestite cousin?! This is too fabulous

Mr Rooney's two children, Wayne's cousins Natalie and Stephen, are also waiting for an invite.

Telephonist and aspiring glamour model Natalie, 18, caused a stir when she flashed a breast at Coleen's 21st birthday last year and then threatened to strip entirely at the nuptials.

She said at the time: “I'll do the Full Monty if I get an invite to their wedding next year! Coleen will probably be fuming about it but I don't care - it was just a bit of a laugh.”

She then insulted the future Mrs Rooney when she told a national newspaper she should have breast surgery to improve her shape. [Ed. Note Like Natalie who wants to get 34FF implants!]

Her 23-year-old brother Stephen, who is a gay transvestite, is equally outgoing. He is reported to have offered his services as a bridesmaid but has found out that he won't be attending either.

Soo saucy! That would've been the best wedding ever- transvestism and drunken brawling- it's like the English national pastimes.
Ah the British, so much more refined than us.

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Thursday, January 31, 2008

Scott Tenorman Must Die!

because that last post reminded me of it and it is my absolute favorite South Park episode (having Radiohead was just icing on the cake) (in case you didn't know it's based on Shakespeare's Titus Andronicus, which was made into a phenomenal if bloody movie by Julie Taymor, which you should all see)

And “director” commentary with Trey Parker and Matt Stone (unless it's Matt Parker and Trey Stone

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Schadenfreude Pie: Best Served With a Glassful of Your Enemy’s Tears

Cartman: [walks over to Scott's end of the table] Yes! Yeess! Oh, let me taste your tears, Scott! [Starts licking Scott's tears off his face.] Mm, your tears are so yummy and sweet.

Cartman: Oh, the tears of unfathomable sadness! Mm-yummy. [Licks the tears off the table and off Scott's face.] Mm-yummy, you guys!

From John Scalzi’s “Whatever Blog something that is totally up my alley and combines two of my great interest- baking and reveling in the pain , misery and misfortune of my enemies.


It's the world's first Schadenfreude Pie, the pie to enjoy while you are reveling in the horrible misfortunes of others. Why is there a Schadenfreude Pie? Because after I wrote the headline for this entry,
I wondered to myself, "what would Schadenfreude Pie taste like?"

My guess: Dark. Rich. And oh so bittersweet.

And you know what? That's exactly what it tastes like. Also -- and this is really just a perfect but unintentional extension of the whole schadenfreude metaphor -- you really only want a small slice; too much of this pie and it'll sit in the pit of your stomach like a rock of judgment, pulling you down. Small slice? Excellent. Big slice? You'll regret it. Just like schadenfreude itself.

Let's face it, schadenfreude is a dark emotion. It deserves a dark pie. Here are your ingredients.

  • 1 cup dark brown sugar
  • 1 cup dark corn syrup
  • 1/2 cup molasses
  • 1/2 cup (1 stick) butter
  • 1/2 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips or chunks
  • 3 large eggs (I used brown eggs in keeping with the spirit of things, but white eggs are fine)
  • 2 teaspoons cinnamon
  • 1 splash Kahlua or other coffee liqueur
  • 1 graham cracker pie crust (9 or 10 inches). Choose regular or chocolate graham cracker crust according to taste.

Preheat your oven to 375 degrees (Fahrenheit). Melt butter in largish mixing bowl; add in corn syrup, molasses, brown sugar and cinnamon. Mix well. Melt chocolate; fold into existing mixture. Add eggs and Kahlua; mix vigorously until mix has an even consistency. Pour into pie crust (depending on size of crust you may have a little filling mix left over).

Shove into oven, center of middle rack, and bake for about 45 minutes. At 45 minutes, poke pie with butter knife. If butter knife comes out clean, your pie is done; otherwise give it about another five minutes.

Once you take the pie out of the oven, let it set at least 20 minutes before you dig in. It's really good when still warm, however.

Serving recommendations: small slices (this is an awesomely rich pie) and an ice cold glass of milk to go with it.


Sounds tasty. Hm, maybe I should bake that for Super Bowl Sunday, just in case the Giants win.

P.S. you have to really check out the photos and captions on this page; I really enjoyed them

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Saturday, January 26, 2008

Cringe Worthy

first in a possible new series where I share things that made me so incredibly uncomfortable while watching.
This inaugural edition was sparked by a link in Bill Simmons' latest linkapalooza and it is of an incredibly incredibly awkward encounter between Jeffrey Ross, Trey Parker and Matt Stone and Lorenzo Lamas from the March 12th, 2003 episode of Jimmy Kimmel Live. Prepare to cringe



God that was so uncomfortable.
A Note from the Simmons article: "After the show, Lorenzo challenged Jeff to a boxing match and Jeff declined." Not surprising at all

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Thursday, September 6, 2007

A Bit of Political Porno

featuring Barack Bashing, Bush's potty mouth, gay mexicans and more!

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Thursday, July 26, 2007

And on the subject of P*ssies Endangering Health...

In a really roundabout way... I'm not really sure; I'll just let Team America explain


Oh I get it,and Goldifinger would tie in from the last post as an asshole...so are we saying James Bond is a dick? I don't believe it. Look at this man; I don't see dick when I look at him except for...well, y'know

wow,wow,wow,wow,wow

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Wednesday, July 4, 2007

Overheard in L.M.E.-um...America

a dam e : i really wanna buy a flat in the french quarter
a dam e : one of my fav places on earth
ev livid e : i really love it too.
ev livid e : i would rather live in paris though
a dam e : i love america
ev livid e : i love france
a dam e : U-S-A U-S-A
ev livid e : vive la france

America? Fuck Yeah!

America Fuck Yeah (mp3)

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Saturday, June 30, 2007

Time to Enjoy Saturday

I'm sort of ashamed to admit this since many of my friends basically call me Miss Hollywood (not really), but living in So Cal for my whole live I realized that I haven't seen a movie in theatres since The Departed. It's not that I'm cheap or don't like a lot of movies, because watching movies in theatres have their own special magic, like watching the dust dance in the projection light, or anticipating the moment when the house lights are turned on are all amazing. But not going to a cinema for this long, I think I'm addicted and am sort of feenin' for it. So I'm going to hopefully get out of my rut (and hopefully over some recent negativity from assholes) and see of course Live Free or Die Hard, though Ratatouille is getting some great notices (here too) as well.Plus it looks cute (this is sort of true, though every good movie is a story about relationships-[from Defamer]) But anyway.
So I'm peacing for a bit. Either that or I may just order a pizza and watch Dreamgirls with my mom.
Either way let's enjoy today, m'kay?

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Tuesday, June 19, 2007

John Travolta is a moron

Yet another reason why celebrities should not be heard unless they're a script. John Travolta of the "I'm not gay," " no my son is not autistic," camp is crazy but apparently he, like Tom Cruise, is an expert on psychiatric medication. He is now claiming that "I still think that if you analyze most of the school shootings, it is not gun control. It is [psychotropic] drugs at the bottom of it. I don't want to create controversy; I just have an opinion on things, and there is nothing wrong with stating your opinion if you are asked."
Because we all know that if a kid is depressed an anti depressant wouldn't restore their chemical imbalance and make them better, of course it wouldn't, and there's no chance that these drugs could help a kid not think that not getting a date is the end of the world, they have nothing to live for and may as well take other people with them.

It is so irresponsible that people in their postions of influence (maybe somebody someplace looks up to the person who financed and starred in this) but the positive effects of these drugs for so many people, and people in all ways of life can not be overstated. But then again this is a man who believes this to be true

So in conclusion, John, thanks for Pulp Fiction (nice hair, btw) and
Grease (though you're ruining Hairspray, hypocrite), now fuck off.

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