How I long for the bygone days of couch-jumping and maniacal laughter. No, for reals. Ever since the writers and actors went on strike, all of your favorite celebs are no longer on the promotional ho stroll making fools of themselves or being tacky. Ergo, celebrity gossip isn't just in the crapper, it's an unsinkable molly brown - or a brown trout of, let's say, the Piers Morgan variety. Eeeow! No one wants that.
How do we know this? Because all the gossip sites are straining really hard to come up with stuff now that the stars are hunkering down - or protesting, God help us, like Susan Sarandon. Take "Page Six," which today has this earth-shattering news: "Barbara Walters' Last Words!" Which are the none-too-earth-shattering, "No regrets. I've had a great life." That's not just a crumb parading as a story, it's your grandfather's flaky beard dandruff and sputum dotting his dark blue shirt. What else does "Page Six" have? More on alleged child abuser Ruby Franke. That's not gossip, thats a fuck-me-sideways-with-a-monkey-wrench horror show and it doesn't count. Neither does their lead story about Derek Hough canoodling with his wife. His wife! WTF? And Derek Hough? Cue *Harpo, who's this woman* gif.
Even TMZ, a usually reliable source of celebrity fuckery, is straining. They're reporting on Travis Barker - such glamour! - who had to cut his tour short with "Blink 182" because of an unspecified family emergency. But c'mon, unless this emergency is a complete head transplant for Travis, I'm not interested. And, oh, yes, there's another story in which "a source" claims that Britney Spears will not be doing OnlyFans, because, let's be honest, save a camera showing her cooter stretched wide with a speculum, we've seen it all.
The only celebrities allowed to speak and potentially give us some decent goss or asshatary are those appearing in SAG-waiver, non-AMPTP productions, like Adam Driver - again, the glamour! - who's promoting "Ferrari," a Michael Mann movie already getting tepid reviews. And what is he talking about? The strike! How he's totally behind it and really supports...huh? Wha? Sorry, but gossip right now is like an awkward sexual advance. You may want it, but it's so clumsy and skird you just want to slap it upside the head.
Which means the best gossip right now is no gossip. It's Kylie Minogue and her verifiably batshit new music video, "Tension." I've no idea what's going on here - someone please explain (or not) - but Kylie looks fantastic and if she's intending to bring back trippy mid-90s club beats, she's succeeded. It's just no substitute for TommyGirl™ jumping on couches and this makes me sad emoticon. For our own sanity, I hope the strikes end soon.
It's happening right now! This is place to scream about the election; to vent, to rejoice, to grumble, then scream again. I swear, your throat will feel like sandpaper once this day is done. Have you voted yet? Are you in line? Post pictures! Is your heart skipping beats? Do you fear for the future? Of course you do! But crucially, do you have enough booze and pills to get through this? What, exactly, are you taking or drinking? We want to know. And what are you eating? Are you a sugar or salt whore? We want to know that, too. Leave those who'd rather not discuss such matters to our special Election-Free Open Post , since today, for one day only, we're gettin' real and gettin' dirty in our own gasping, shrieking, blood-soaked election post. Hold tight.
Rise up, my chickens. We're all worth fighting for. It won't be easy, it won't be fun, but through the long dark of night and on to a new day, it will surely be worth it. We don't regularly refer to politics in our Open Posts, but today, I think it's worth noting that many of us got through eight long years of Ronald Reagan - and it was a nightmare, and for many of my contemporaries, deadly. But here we are, we're still standing. We'll get through this, too, I promise. What does this mean in the short-term? Tears, fury, booze, pills, or weed, of course. You have my permission - not that you need it - to comfort yourself however you like for the rest of the week. But come Monday, all bets are off. Bitches won't even see us coming.
Are you freaking out about the election tomorrow? Me, too. Or maybe you're having a more generalized "It's Monday, oh-my-fucking-gawd" freak out? In either case, please allow Peckerwood Manor's esteemed DJ Li'l Scratch to take you away. Many of you already know about Li'l Scratch, as he regularly lays tracks at "Heavy D's," the Manor's exclusive after-hours club. Today he's spinning Teri Thornton, a vibrant, husky-voiced jazz singer and piano player who hailed from Detroit. In 1961, she exploded onto the scene with her debut LP, "Devil May Care," demonstrating show-stopping vocal prowess. The reviews were through the roof and so was the public reception, yet just as suddenly - poof - she vanished after a few more LPs, her career thwarted by market changes given the rise of rock 'n' roll. And that was that. She was all but forgotten, reduced to driving a taxi to make ends meet. But in a jaw-dropping comeback, she re
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