Merry Oscar Weekend! Your usual compendium of death and sex and television is below.
We are really upset with Jerry Seinfeld. Julia Mancuso's fans do not think highly of Lindsey Vonn. We do not think highly of Brighton Beach Memoirs: The Reality Television Show. We are also dissatisfied with the class of political candidate New York is attracting this year.
Columbia invited The National Enquirer to sully the name of journalism. Apple put their foot down: their child laborers must be at least 16 and they must have at least one day off during their 60-hour work weeks. We're hoping crazy Alec Baldwin saves the Oscars. You should save a writer by sending him $20,000. Then you should buy Rush Limbaugh's tacky house.
Some Scientologists made a funny video with stolen movie clips. We joined the Kombucha Tea Party. Alaskan Anger Bear Sarah Palin had a little sitdown with Jay Leno about how to leave a high-profile job with grace. We should give her her own TV show of lies and jokes and such. San Diego erupted in a college race war.
We explained why we hate Wal-Mart.
For a while, Mort Zuckerman was going to run for Senate, so we explained who he is. Facebook sent some stuff to people it shouldn't have sent stuff to and we posted it. Harvey Weinstein has lost his touch. His touch of death and fear. Now it is time for someone who works for him to write a mean book, probably.
Kari Ferrell was here for some fucking reason.
Getting killed by an Orca is pretty gruesome.