Thursday, November 30, 2006

Today's Government-Mandated "Mel Gibson-Loves-Kramer" Content

I'm sure you're no doubt already sick of hearing that Mel Gibson has confessed his undying, beer goggles-induced lust for Michael Richards, whose Jew-bashing probably inspired Mel to reach out to a fellow publicly racist celebrity in need.

No doubt both Mel and Kramer have found themselves thinking back to one of Mel's previous on-screen adventures and ruminating on the poetics of Oscar Wilde.

Too bad I can't come up with a better joke here than that Photoshop job above, though.

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FIERCEFILE™: Dance Hall Days

The penultimate episode of this cycle of ANTM was a nicely paced hodgepodge of al things Top Model: we got a model breakdown, a heart to heart with Miss J, one-on-one coaching from Tyra, and a health scare! What more can you ask for?

Granted, the flamenco dance stuff was a bit ho-hum. But bringing back a photographer for the initial challenge was a very welcome development as it laid the pressure on thicker than Tyra's upper arms. And it led to the scene we've all been waiting for this entire cycle:

Melrose got pwned, bee-yatch! Yeah, that's right crybaby, it's Final Four time and you just don't measure up. "Dancing is my life!" she choked. Too bad her "life" wasn't good enough to beat lazy-faced Eugena this time, whose scripted-sounding declaration of "I've got rhythm" briefly made me think they'd hired Michael Richards to do script polishing.

Then came My Dinner With Miss J, wherein the obviously hung over Queen of the Runway imparted some pearls of wisdom before the swine that is Melrose monopolized the conversation.

But then came that photoshoot, wherein the models had to team up in pairs and listen to Tyra sling insults and instructions at them from over the edge of a freezing cold swimming pool. At least this meant Canadian short man Jay Alexander kept his trap shut more than usual. But it all became too much for CariDee, whose lack of insulation got the best of her and led to what was potentially our second hospital trip this cycle -- but unfortunately only resulted in some poolside towel wrapping and an all-too brief brush with some paramedics.

Of course, no emergency medical help could save Amanda from meeting her fate. Her Photoshop-requiring face shot even made Eugena's dead eyes look good this week. So the FInal Three fall into place as expected, and we're in for an all-out bitchfest between Melrose and the Anti-Melrose Alliance. My money's still on CariDee -- Eugena will unfortunately be eliminated first after they devise a test that specifically targets her eyes, then Melrose will crack under pressure. Or not.

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Wednesday, November 29, 2006

JOHN EATS CONTEST™: FINAL TWO DAYS To Win A T-Shirt You Probably Won't Feel Comfortable Wearing In Public

Okay, this is the last time you will hear me nag you about this. There are only two days left to get us an entry for the T-Shirt Contest.

Enter this contest. Make the world a better place. If you don't do it for you, then do it for the children. THE CHILDREN!

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I assume those of you at home playing the TUPAC/SNOOP DRINKING GAME™ already know the rules. But for the sake of the uninitiated:


1. Take a drink each time Tupac Shakur releases a posthumous single/video/movie.

2. Take a drink each time Snoop Dog gets arrested.

It's time to take two swigs this week, my friends!

New Tupac Video Has T.I., Ashanti, Unseen Footage of Late Rapper [MTV News]

Rapper Snoop Dog Arrested Again [BBC News]


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Tuesday, November 28, 2006

ENTERTAINMENT DROPPINGS: Naughty Mary, Pam n' Kid Rock No Longer Sitting In A Tree, B-Spears

• No room at the Vatican's Inn for not-so-virgin Mary [BBC News]

• Things that make you go "no sh*t" [US Weekly]

• Thematic inspiration for the lyrics to Britney's "Oops! I Did It Again" traced back to The Oedipus Cycle [Defamer]

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Monday, November 27, 2006

FIERCEFILE™: At Least They Didn't Do A Photoshoot During The Running Of The Bulls

Yeah, I know this is way late but I'm not gonna let a little thing like timeliness rob me of the chance to write about this cycle's "go see" episode! I finally got to catch up on the Sunday rerun last night, and am I glad I did...definitely a cycle highlight so far, with the remaining five splitting into three factions to conquer the Madrid transit system (which apparently consists of nothing but cabs) -- and Melrose proved that her army of one was superior to those other girls teaming up and being pansies. Man, the twins were practically a portrait in dysfunction, what with them seeing the fewest designers and getting back late. So of course Melrose won yet another challenge, so once again we got to see her clap and say "YAY" like a small child who's been dropped on their head one too many times.

Nothing beats Jay Manuel dressed up like a matador. Really. I'm almost as speechless about it as the models were, who had to be coerced by Jay himself into cheering at the sight of his three foot seven inch frame tucked into a costume fit for a black velvet painting. And what was the deal with his makeup? He was practically a short-haired, blonde, ethnically ambiguous version of Robert Smith...but, like, in a matador costume. And that fake showdown between Jay and the models and the raging bull was pretty sweet too; nothing goes a long way like bad editing in a reality show.

And then the moment to beat all moments, the Earth-shattering bombshell that made this A Very Special Episode Of America's Next Top Model: CariDee let her midwestern freak flag fly and lobbed a crude joke Nigel's way. Oh, CariDee...haven't you learned that the people who actually do have sticks up their asses really don't find it funny when it's pointed out to them? You poor, misguided creature. I think her sincere letter to the judges (on torn-out notebook looseleaf no less) is what saved her ass, because her hootchie mama photoshoot wasn't doing her any favors.

But it was Eugena who finally shined, grabbing the bull by the horns so to speak, and ending up with the episode's best photo. Even though she lost out to Melrose on the go see challenge, she definitely earned her top slot. But we'll see if it lasts, since Wednesday will see the revelation of who makes it to the final three. Bring on the end of the other twin! She won't be interesting at all anymore now that her sister's gone!

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Saturday, November 25, 2006

FIRST CHURCH OF LATTER-DAY PHIL COLLINS ADVENTISTS™: Because There's A Little Bald British Drummer In All Of Us

With news of tickets to the upcoming Genesis reunion concerts selling out faster than a British musician in the mid to late '80s, it couldn't be a better time for us to launch our newest recurring department, THE FIRST CHURCH OF LATTER-DAY PHIL COLLINS ADVENTISTS™.

As Archbishops of this new faith, we hereby dedicate ourselves to spreading the Gospel According To Phil -- whether that involves showing you touching personal tributes to the man, celebrating his flirtations with heavy metal, or debunking the myth that he can't dance.

We will not rest until every man, woman and child accepts Phil into their hearts.

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Thursday, November 23, 2006

WHY GOD CREATED YOUTUBE™: CSI:Miami Cold Opening Cornucopia

If you read Defamer this will be old news to you, but if you don't, take a few minutes and treat yourself to another kind of turkey today: a montage of David Caruso's ending lines from what appears to be an entire season's worth of CSI: Miami episodes.

Truly, this is why God created YouTube.

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FIERCEFILE™: The Guy Who Missed The Show

Yeah, so I totally forgot to watch ANTM last night until the last fifteen minutes. At least I got to see the judging, which saw one of the twins get kicked off just like I said. But you'll have to wait for the Sunday rerun for a writeup (which I know everyone was looking forward to on this Thanksgiving day).

But in its place, courtesy of Legolas, enjoy thse photos of Tisha Campbell (House Party, Martin) and Tichina Arnold (Martin, Everybody Hates Chris) at a Halloween party dressed as Tyra and Miss Jay.

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Wednesday, November 22, 2006

ESCAPE FROM THE BOOKDROP OF DOOM™: Prince Arthur, Duke of Connaught

[Editor's Note: There's just ONE WEEK LEFT to submit entries for the Win A T-Shirt You Probably Won't Feel Comfortable Wearing In Public Contest -- so get your butts in gear and send something in if you want a chance at the glorious t-shirt prize (And in case you're skeptical, the t-shirts are real. We're like totally serious about this). Anyway, we've got another entry today from none other than Eels, who is obviously desperate to claim that John On John™ Women's Cap Sleeve T-Shirt for her very own. So put your hands together for an entry that can undoubtedly claim victory in the race to the highest word count...]

Take it away, Eels:

I first began working at the library in an assignment that had recently been vacated by none other than our beloved webmaster and editor in chief, JohnEats. One of the duties of the job I currently hold (admittedly not yet with the effortless aplomb of my predecessor) is to spend each Sunday supervising the student workers who are assigned to brave the front lines of patron assaults at the circulation desk. The tasks left to the supervisor are usually enough to fill, at best, two of these lonely weekend hours when the majority of students do their best to be anywhere but the library. This leaves five and a half hours in which I struggle to occupy myself by any means necessary... quite often through the perusal of books recently returned by patrons.

The very first book that caught my attention in this way was Victorian Studio Photographs: Biographical Portraits of Eminent Victorians by Bevis Hillier. Struck by the rich orange of the cover, so handsomely framing the gender-bending portrait of Lady Randolph Churchill, I took the volume aside to peruse at my leisure.

Little did I know what wonder was in store.

I casually paged through the volume, passing by stuffy photographs of writers, artists, politicians, royalty and other notables (a fluttering pause for Oscar Wilde -- oh be still my dandy-loving heart!) and, of course, Queen Victoria herself. The name and title, birth and death dates, and an enlightening biographical sketch of each sitter is framed on the left-hand page, opposite a plate of the portrait which (we are assured by the book jacket blurb) "offers a fascinating insight into the way the eminent Victorians chose to view themselves: each portrait, carefully composed, lit, executed and finally granted the sitter's approval, is a finished copy of the subject's public personality."

How was I to react, when suddenly I found myself confronted with this portrait of Prince Arthur, Duke of Connaught?

How indeed, dear reader, do you find yourself reacting?

I recommend that you take a moment to breathe slowly and deliberately now, so as best to maintain your composure as you take it all in... Click on the small version of the portrait to the right, in order to see the full-size image and witness for yourself:

• The powerful crush of royal fist against table, the piercing crystal eyes, the plush yet carefully waxed and pointed mustache -- evidence of such majestic authority!

• The tantalizing brush of fringe against slender yet muscular leg, encased in (one can only assume) the finest of silk stockings; the decorative embroidery and lace at wrist and throat; the magnificent puff of satin at the jauntily pointed elbow -- touches of such elegant refinement!!

• The post-mortem hug of the mighty leopard, whose life was given up gladly so that its pelt could be immortalized embracing the well-corseted form of the "third son and seventh child of Queen Victoria, Arthur William Patrick Albert -- in fancy dress"!!!

Oh, it gives me pause even now, despite having had the joy of gazing upon a copy of this photo every day at work for the past year and a half. It is framed in the cover pocket of the all-purpose binder on my desk in which I keep my notes, guidesheets, and informative papers. It is to this binder, and therefore to Prince Arthur, that I turn whenever I am in doubt on a policy or in need of a contact number.

I shall tell you now of my reaction at the moment I first laid eyes on this portrait, mes Dames et Messieurs, and you ought not be surprised in the least! Such a powerful swoon came upon me that I slumped in my office chair and rolled helplessly back, clasping the volume of photographs to me even as I lost consciousness. Luck would have it that I was brought quickly to again by the slam of my head against the bookshelf behind me. When I had recovered enough to open the book once again to pages 100 and 101, I did not allow myself (alas!) to feast my eyes too long immediately again upon the dizzying details of the portrait itself, but rather began to read the accompanying text.

Some morsels of this biography I now pass along to you, gentle reader, so that you will begin to understand, as I have, a good deal more about the illustrious life and character of our magnificently illustrated subject:
... Victoria soon came to regard him as her favourite child. 'Darling Arthur', he became, and she would write of how much she 'adored our little Arthur from the day of his birth. He has never given us a day's sorrow or trouble... but has ever been like a ray of sunshine in the house.' He was, indeed, 'dearer than any of the others put together.'"

"... Queen Victoria remarked, 'I rejoice in having a son who has devoted his life to the Army, and who I am confident will ever prove worthy the name of a British soldier.' Given command of a bicycle regiment, he is reported to have fallen off and to have become intricately entangled with the mechanism of his machine while attempting to return a soldier's salute."

"... Even into old age, Arthur was deeply involved in diplomatic and military affairs, in the Boy Scout movement and in Freemasonry, serving as Grand Master of England. He died in 1942 at the age of 91, the oldest surving child of Queen Victoria."

Of course I was driven on to further research. Sadly, I must report that most other photos I have found of this real-life Prince Charming are disappointingly conservative, at least at first glance. It should be pointed out, however, that he did continue to meticulously keep up that fabulous mustache until the very end of his days. Even when wearing his military and royal garb, the Prince shewed flourishes of an irrepressibly flamboyant style that (I dare say) likely influenced late-20th-century fop Adam Ant.

For those of you who, like myself, simply cannot get enough of His Royal Highness Prince Arthur, Duke of Connaught and Strathearn and Earl of Sussex (1850-1942), I present this elegant desktop portrait on a fittingly tasteful lavender marble background:

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Tuesday, November 21, 2006

WHY GOD CREATED YOUTUBE™: Take Me Out For A Milkshake

Inspired by Eels' first t-shirt contest entry, I dove feet-first back into the semi-blissful world of YouTube mashup videos and came up with this gem by Thriftshop XL: Franz Ferdinand vs. Kelis with a dash of Chic's "Good Times," which is a pretty apt description in itself.

Truly, this is why God created YouTube.

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Monday, November 20, 2006

ENTERTAINMENT DROPPINGS: Hipster Doofus Demoted To Racist Doofus

The term "WTF" exists for moments like these: Seinfeld's Michael Richards goes all Mel Gibson and drops the N-bomb (and quite a bit more) at an African American heckler in a comedy club. Guess that old "Kramer The Pimp" routine just won't be the same anymore... ["Kramer's Racist Tirade Caught on Tape" at TMZ]

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ARTFARTS™: The Converse Project

So Anonymous A and I decided to leave the John Eats Cave early Saturday morning in an attempt to act like normal humans for a change -- you know, the ones who actually leave the house, eat food and interact with other human beings who leave the house and eat food. So what better place to go than one of them hipster brunch spots that the kids these days seem to enjoy so much after a long night out of listening to the rock and the roll and drinking at the devil juice?

Our meal was made extra-pleasant by the wacky cast of characters occupying the table next to ours: a four foot tall, three foot thick army brat obviously used to being the center of attention who, during the many times he got up and came back to the table, made sure to rub his ass against my coat which was laying on the bench between us; his girlfriend, who couldn't keep her meathooks off of him, laughed like Mr. Ed and may not have had all the spots on her dice; his loud overweight parents, who said things like "He's a nice conservative guy!"; and the brat's sister, who rarely spoke and carried a small pink piece of luggage which was continuously berated by the brat, who was obviously nervous around something "prissy" that reminded him of those filthy, unnatural thoughts from the deeper, darker recesses of his psyche -- the ones he thought he'd banished forever at boot camp. They had finished their meal just as we sat down, but proceeded to stay and "chat" for the entire duration of our meal, which made us eat quite a bit faster than we would have preferred.

We were just plotting to get up to go to the restroom at the same time so as to spare each other from having to sit alone next to the 50-decibel freakshow alongside us when suddenly a member of the waitstaff approached me:

"Excuse me, can I ask you a weird, kind of personal question?"

"Great," I thought, "someone wants me to help them bury a body again."

But it wasn't like that at all. No, she just wanted to take a picture of my face and my black Converse. And put the pictures online. She said she had one of them fancy picture sharing accounts on The Flicka, you know, that web page with the photos and the social networking that everyone talks about these days. She said it was for something called The Converse Project and that I was "the first non-friend" she had approached about being photographed for it. I wasn't sure if she meant an actual human friend or just someone's account she'd added to her MySpace page since I so rarely understand what goes on with these kids on the cyberhighway these days, but there you go. So now I'm up there, at least a full fifteen years older and fifty pounds heavier than everybody else. That's what I get for leaving the house, I guess.

Anyway, give it a looksee! [The Converse Project]

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Sunday, November 19, 2006

CRUISEWATCH™: Attack Of The Fifty Four Inch Woman

So did anyone else notice something odd about the official TomKat wedding portrait? Of course I'm referring to the fact that in their weding photo, Katie Holmes -- who is usually significantly taller than Tom Cruise -- appears to be a full inch or so shorter than everyone's favorite Operating Thetan Seven.

Well, London's The Times Online certainly picked up on it as is evidenced by the somewhat conspicuously awkward headline for their Cruise/Holmes wedding story: "Star Stands Taller in the World's Eyes at Wedding."


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Friday, November 17, 2006

ENTERTAINMENT DROPPINGS: The Equally Bald Cruises, MJ, PuffyDaddySeanPDiddy-Diddy, Piven/Black

• Tom and Suri Cruise rock matching comb-forwards while blushing, contractually obligated bride-to-be Katie Holmes rocks about a four-inch bunchup []

• The camel's back that is Michael Jackson's fan base finally broken by metaphorical straw of lousy stage performance; other metaphorical straws --including keeping a photo of young MacCauley Culkin in his bathroom, having delusions of being Peter Pan and/or Diana Ross, obliterating his blackness, and releasing the "Blood On The Dancefloor" video -- just not quite heavy enough [BBC News]

• Diddy tries, fails to live up to the helicopter coolness quotient first achieved by RUN-DMC in the "It's Tricky" video [TMZ]

Asshole with ascot holds grudge against asshole with Nacho Libre and Shallow Hal on his resumé [Page Six]

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Thursday, November 16, 2006


Editor's Note: After yesterday's goading and beratement in an attempt to bleed at least one more contest entry out of you people, frequent JohnEats commentor and solitary t-shirt fan Eels submitted the following obsessively hyperlink-annotated post for our consideration. Enjoy.

Experience first. Words later.

A mashup music video featuring the original Prince version of "Kiss" as well as the Tom Jones cover, PLUS Rick James' "Superfreak" with MC Hammer's "U Can't Touch This". The visual choices (culled from all 4 performer's videos) are as well-chosen and key to the success of the entire piece as the music... perhaps, if possible, slightly more so. Well done, antonbachelor. Well done.

I have yet to come across a more convincing reason for why God created YouTube.


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FIERCEFILE™: Short (Hair) People Got No Reason To Live

Apathy has truly set in amongst the America's Next Top Model community. Even the official website refuses to post updates anymore, so I don't even have new pictures to include here. But I'm a real trooper so I'll manage somehow.

We finally lost Jaeda last night. I'll miss her complaining about her short hair, her bitterness about her short hair, and her inability to adjust to her short hair. But mostly I'll miss her blaming everything on her short hair.

ANTM crossed a line last night with the whole acting class/therapy session thing. I mean, at first I was really enjoying clutching my stomach and squeezing my eyelids shut while each and every model, upon being told to come up onstage and express what they were feeling right now, proceeded to scream at the top of their lungs and cry about things like their hair being too short. But when CariDee got up there and kinda slipped in the little thing about wanting to kill herself, it made me realize I could only think about one thing: does this mean she's won the challenge? Oops, not so fast buster, she still had to compete against the other models in a silent movie challenge, and if nothing else has proven that the writers' strike has adversely effected this cycle of ANTM, this did. WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT MOVIE ABOUT? A couple bites of lemon, a swig of prune juice, an intern dressed up like a bell boy, and some passing references to bestiality did not make the best setup for the trip to Barcelona, but there you go.

Proving that the judges don't give two shits about the personal lives of the models, they followed up their graduation day booting of Brooke by booting off Jaeda after she was forced to kiss a racist asshole Spanish male model. I guess they're just doing their part to teach the models some tough life lessons, but gee whiz guys. The commercial shoot was pretty uneventful except for the racist liplocking, but then right after they finished that segment and went to a commercial, they showed an english-language version of the same commercial! Madre de Dios!! Why the hell didn't they show them filming two separate versions of the commercial in the episode? Boy did I feel cheated. I guess they're leaving that for bonus footage on the DVD...oh wait, there hasn't been an ANTM DVD since cycle 1. What the crap?

So we're down to five: Melrose, CariDee, Eugena and the twins. I'm thinking the twins each get the axe over the next two weeks, how about you?

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Wednesday, November 15, 2006

THE JOHNEATS.COM POLL™: O.J.'s If I Did It Interview

As you most likely already know, former football hero/Hertz Rent-a-car spokesperson/human being O.J. Simpson has for all intents and purposes written a book confessing to the murders of his ex-wife and her friend, and Fox will broadcast a two-night interview with the unconvicted murderer so he can discuss how he's made some more money off his mortal sins.

But of course the big question is, should I actually be allowed to watch the interview? Since no decent person in their right mind would actually watch this crap but would really really like to know what he says anyway, I feel like I have a moral imperative to take one for the team by watching it and reporting back on what I see when it airs on November 27th and 29th. But I also have a feeling that Anonymous A will put the kibosh on my ability to watch it. So what do you think? Take the poll and let me know!

The Poll™
Should Anonymous A let John Eats watch the O.J. If I Did It interview?
Only if he liveblogs it

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THE COVERS THAT TIME FORGOT™: Bobby McFerrin Sucks On His Lips

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JOHN EATS CONTEST™: Last Two Weeks To Win A T-Shirt You Probably Won't Feel Comfortable Wearing In Public

Listen up, people: you only have two weeks left to enter our Win A T-Shirt You Probably Won't Feel Comfortable Wearing In Public contest, so get busy! If you need a refresher, make sure you review the official rules before sending your entries to johneats[a]

When that t-shirt shows up in the mail and you're rubbing that cotton/poly blend between your grubby little fingers, you'll look back on the tears and the sweat you went through to write a couple of crappy sentence fragments and find a cheesy YouTube video, and you'll say to yourself "My god, what have I done?"

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Tuesday, November 14, 2006

ENTERTAINMENT DROPPINGS: Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man 3 Leaked Trailer

Boy, looks like they've really cut the budget on Spider-Man 3...I know this is an illegally released rough cut and all, but are you telling me they're gonna actually use footage from the old cartoon series in the movie now? Sheesh!

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Monday, November 13, 2006

WHY GOD CREATED YOUTUBE™: Godzilla vs. Dylan McCkay

While searching for a YouTube video to celebrate the long-awaited release of Beverly Hills 90210: The Complete First Season on DVD, I stumbled across this gem. Remember when Dylan had a drug problem, and the gang all confronted him about it alongside well-known child star turned rehabilitated drug addict Mackenzie Phillips? Well, here's the big confrontation scene with the added bonus of being slightly out of sync with the sound, giving it the feel of a classic badly dubbed Godzilla movie.

Truly, this is why God created YouTube.

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Friday, November 10, 2006

ENTERTAINMENT DROPPINGS: The Pope, FedEx, FedEx Baby Mama, The Baldwin With The Most Face Fur

• Pope sets his sights on the high school locker market [BBC News]

• FedEx pimps one lousy prenup [Boston Herald]

• Oh, Shar Jackson so did NOT just say that [People]

• Daniel Baldwin auditions for Cousin It in new Addams Family 2.0 remake [US Weekly]

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Thursday, November 09, 2006

FIERCEFILE™: It's Over, And She Didn't Even Have To Sing

The sledgehammer of caricaturization finally came down on Anchal with a bang last night as she faced yet another week of alienation, humiliation and shyness all stemming from her battle with four-egg omelets and Dreamsicles®. Yes, we got yet another week of everyone complaining about Anchal's weight, confidence and self-image issues, and can I just say: how the mighty have fallen.

But between the footage of Anchal's perpetual Elijah Wood Eyebrow Scrunching™ we got some decent challenges to wade through. Gabrielle "Just Do It®" Reece showed up to teach the models how to look fierce yet feminine while bumping a volleyball and chewing on sand. It was a pity there was no photographer there to add to the tension because those still frames of the models wincing just weren't the same without the dubbed-over camera shutter sound effect. And finally Jaeda got to show a little expertise in something other than bitching about her hair!

Then of course we were treated to the ever creepy James St. James (whose Nascar-inspired getup made him the spitting image of Doug McKenzie during the hockey scenes in Strange Brew -- except with a turban) and model/Nascar driver Stanton Barett who surprisingly seemed to have no problems touching each other. I'm sure thatwent over well in the red states!

Once again Anchal couldn't step up to the plate and Caridee went all-out, but Michelle ended up winning (even after stepping on the Nascar car in heels and denting the hood!) and I was all like "Whaaaaa..?"

And then that b*tch Melrose had to steal everybody's thunder by winning the $10,000 shoplifting spree. I mean really, what were the other models thinking? When the challenge is to pick up the most stuff you can in 30 seconds, you should actually try to pick some stuff up. Not that I enjoy having to give her any credit, but at least Melrose was smart enough to be greedy instead of choosy.

And then of course we get the wind tunnel photoshoot. One last chance for everyone to tell Anchal she looks fat in a leotard, another chance for Jaeda to look awkward because she's tall, and another chance for Caridee to take the best photo of the bunch.

The verb/adverb exercise was a stroke of genius, and we got to see just how grammatically inept Melrose really is since she interpreted her verb as a noun. Let's hope they don't ask the models to do a simile/metaphor exercise or they'll have to bust out the cricket sound effect. Caridee took the prize for her wacky slapstick, and once again Eugena got a faceful of "your face has no emotion" comments. But of course it came down to Anchal's hasty retreat after her failure to dance that led to her ultimate demise...

Six left. Can you stand the tension? Who do you think will win? Have you even read this far?

Bring on the cricket sound effect!

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Wednesday, November 08, 2006

WHY GOD CREATED YOUTUBE™: And It Only Cost Her $.10 Per Message

WTF? Brevin was planning on taking over the world?

Props to non-commenter Anonymous 'W' for the tip.

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My God, What Have They Done?

The whole sordid mess is finally starting to sink in.

I feel like...this:

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Today's Government-Mandated Election Content

This morning brought the above ad banner to my Internets web browser, very appropos for the current Election Fever™ sweeping the good ol' USA. But take a look at the small print:

If the thought of a $100 gorgefest at The Olive Garden (a good $75 of which would easily go towards the Italian Wine Service®) doesn't make my heart swell with Neil Diamond-esque patriotic pride, nothing will.

Well, except maybe watching Neil, his shiny shirt and borderline jingoism in action back in the day:


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WHY GOD CREATED YOUTUBE™: Phil Collins Live In Vice City

Okay, I need a PSP now.

That plaid grey suit is CLASSIC.

Truly, this is why God created YouTube.

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Tuesday, November 07, 2006

JohnEats Vote 2006 Election Coverage

In a shocking example of shoot-yourself-in-the-footedness, Chicago-area intellectual news source, The RedEye, last week offered its readers a chance to ban their chosen annoying celebrity from the RedEye's back page, cleverly titled "Red Hot." The readers' choice by a landslide, K-Fed and Britney, or Brevin, if you will. However, as luck would have it, a new kind of stork has landed in the couple's quaint little trailer park, a divorce stork.

As reported today, Brevin has decided to separate their collective name back into K-fed and Britney. No one knows for sure when the two drifted apart but E!Online has set up a rough estimate for us:

...somewhere between the birth of the couple's second son on Sept. 12 and the release of Federline's debut album on Oct. 31, the relationship apparently went downhill...
We at JohnEats speculate that it was probably closer to the latter.

While rumors of a RedEye election recount are still in the air, the RedEye editorial staff is finding it hard to believe that 66.1% of the vote went to ending the reign of the white trash royalty on the back cover. A late night planning session has been planned for the crack news crew that has been a strong inspiration for the JohnEats staff.

Of course, there are plenty of pages left in the RedEye, including the coveted RedEye cover story which in the past has gone to such inspiring stories as Virgin Mary images miraculously appearing on urine-stained walls and jaw-dropping exposes on CTA trains running late. So while most newspapers are wasting time on cover stories about Election 2006, the tireless editors and writers of the RedEye are making Sophie's choice..."Britney is K-Fed up" or "Democrats in da House"

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ENTERTAINMENT DROPPINGS™: VH1's 100 Greatest Songs Of The '80s

Thanks to a tip from Shady, we'd like to draw your attention to yet another of VH1's pointless attempts to qualify and quantify pop music history. Their ongoing ranking series The Greatest recently debuted a five-episode countdown of The 100 Greatest Songs of the '80s. You can check out VH1's episode guide [1, 2, 3, 4, 5] or just get the whole list here.

As with all things VH1, this list was "scientifically" compiled through the use of an online poll of 44,000 crack-smoking VH1 viewers. And apparently there's a pretty large current and/or former mullet contingent among those 44,000 because the top five alone includes a staggering two faux metal bands: number one is Bon Jovi's "Livin' On A Prayer" and number two is Def Leppard's "Pour Some Sugar On Me." I'm sorry, but I've just never been able to accept the mainstream fame of the Bon Jovi (probably because they're French) so right there we've got a big mistake. But a post-armless drummer Def Leppard song? Man, at least go with something off of Pyromania for god's sake. And definitely not in the top five, people. At least we've got a classic that I think we can all agree on in the number 3 slot.

And poor little facially deconstructed Michael Jackson is relegated to the number 4 the mighty have fallen. Even five years ago he would have been number one. I can't argue with number 5's "When Doves Cry" by the artist formerly known as an artist and not a Vegas showman, but how much more appropriate would it have been if they'd picked El DeBarge's "Who's Johnny?" for this slot--then Number 5 truly would be alive.

And what's with that Hall & Oates choice at number 6? What abvout "Maneater," or "Kiss On My List," or even better -- something off of Big Bam Boom? That album was the sh*t back in the day. And I'm sorry, but ain't no way "Sweet Child of Mine" deserves a top 10 slot -- that should be "Welcome To The Jungle"'s slot for sure.

And what's with perennial favorite Phil Collins only getting one song and wallowing in the depths at number 35?? Have we lost all our appreciation for stubby bald British white men in our society? Or did the Miami Vice remake forever tarnish the street cred of "In The Air Tonight" (more than the old Michelob commercial did)? Damn you, Colin Farrell and Jamie Foxx!!

Obviously I could go on with this for days, but I'll just leave you with this oddity: how is it that Chaka Khan made the list with something other than "I Feel For You"? I think my head just exploded.

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Monday, November 06, 2006


At first glance, the website for a Lakeview, IL-based spiritual healer/motivator (tipped by Anonymous A) may appear straightforward enough: you've got your basic lefthand sidebar with some links and a spinning logo, then a righthand body area filled with one of the longest website titles in history, a background photo, and some basic information. But dig a little deeper and you'll soon become mesmerized by more than the hypnotic animation loop.

Soon you discover that there is practically no end to this page...a user can keep scrolling and scrolling and scrolling and still get no closer to the end. Okay, we've all seen websites that cram way too much information on one page, right? No big deal. Well, how many web sites that cram way too much information on one page have included stream of consciousness-style writing that makes Absalom, Absalom! read like a Betty Crocker recipe?

Before you click the link and dive into the world of, be advised: this is Pringles®-style web browsing...once you pop, you just can't stop. Looking to fill three hours? Go to and just start reading. This mishmash of New Age healing scheisterism combined with tales of personal animosity will have you saying "Is it lunch already?" in no time flat.

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Sunday, November 05, 2006

ENTERTAINMENT DROPPINGS™: Doogie Howser, Prince, Bo Duke, Grace Jones

• Doogie Howser's admirable self-admission marred by overuse of indefinite article [Xinhua]

• Prince makes everyone kinda shake their head and sigh [MSNBC]

• Where's that flaming bow and arrow when you need it, Uncle Jesse? []

• Grace Jones gig awarded on the basis of surname ubiquity [BBC News]

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Friday, November 03, 2006

ENTERTAINMENT DROPPINGS™: Alcoholic Anti-Semite Actor Helps Junkie Has-Been Rocker Widow

EDITOR'S NOTE: The following post is our first entry in the Win A T-Shirt You Probably Won't Feel Comfortable Wearing In Public Contest. Instead of waiting until the end of the contest to publish the winning entry, every post-worthy entry received will be given its day in the sun here on; it's just that special someone who will actually win the much coveted t-shirt. Enjoy.

Submitted by Michael Knight

Guess who's been sober for fifteen months? Well, judging by the handy SobrietyWatch™ ticker to the right we know it isn't world famous actor/director/Catholic Mel Gibson whose highly anticipated film Apocalypto is set to hit theaters next month. No, it was that other famous substance abuser/actress/singer/train-wreck, and now author, Courtney Love.

Trying to further hype up her highly anticipated memoir, Dirty Blonde: The Diaries of Courtney Love, Love confessed to the press that Gibson was responsible for helping her kick the habit. Apparently, Gibson mysteriously appeared at her hotel room while she was injecting some tasty drugs with several men. "Mel kept coming to the door with this cheesy grin going, `Hi!'" Love told the press. After repeatedly being told to "Go Blank Himself!," Gibson was able to help, getting a counselor to Love's room while he distracted the "several men" with the offer of free cheeseburgers.

As we all know Gibson himself was arrested for drunk bigotry several months after saving Love, so it appears that the blind CAN lead the blind. But wait: Doesn't this mean that the Bible is wrong! As Matthew 15:14 states:
Let them alone: they be blind leaders of the blind. And if the blind lead the blind, both shall fall into the ditch.

Clearly if Love stays sober, Gibson will have proved the Word of God to be fallible. Holy Chirst! My blind faith is quickly disintegrating! We can only hope that Love will soon fall back into the gutter and that the Holy Scripture will prevail.

I think a new SobrietyWatch™ ticker is in order.

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JOHN ON JOHN™: Birthday Horoscope

Since today is my birthday, I thought I would act only slightly more self-centered than usual and offer this entertaining scan of my horoscope, courtesy of this month's InStyle Magazine. It's pretty much spot-on except for the "assertive" thing. And I really have always felt a cosmic connection between myself and Demi Moore, especially that whole naked and pregnant magazine cover schtick. We Scorpios certainly do all act alike!

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Thursday, November 02, 2006

FIERCEFILE™: Recap Of The Recap

And here we are at the Cycle 7 recap show already! Boy, it seems like only yesterday we were wallowing in ennui after realizing this cycle wasn't gonna be all that, and now here we are celebrating what's happened so far. With only five weeks to go, we were treated to a stroll down memory lane and enough bonus footage to make you wonder "How many other scenarios did they concoct and realize they weren't quite interesting enough to include?"

By far the best too-hot-for-TV moment was Monique's tirade in the kitchen upon the discovery that someone ate her chips. Having realized her precious snack food had been devoured by one of her housemates (my money's on Anchal), Monique decided that if she couldn't have chips, no one would have chips, and proceeded to crush every bag of chips in the house with her feet. This prompted the following exchange between Monique and one of the twins:
ONE OF THE TWINS: I don't understand, why would you take away everyone's chips if we're all sharing anyway?

MONIQUE: Where my Doritos® at?!?

(Okay, that might just be paraphrasing, but Monique did make sure to scream the word "Doritos®" in order to fulfill the product placement contract. Altho why any company would want their product associated with a psychotic episode is beyond me.)

Next we had the never-before-seen footage of the models freaking out when a tiny bird flew into the Top Model House. As far as I can tell, one of the crew probably tossed the bird into the house and Jay Manuel probably shouted "All right girls, time to get crazy!" and then everyone started screaming like they were in a Hitchcock film. But really all this particular situation seemed to generate footage-wise was a "desperate" Anchal crawling on all fours in a slip, which they made sure to show three times.

Other than that we got footage of Megg crying at the crazy-wig photoshoot and trying to vent her frustrations by playing her "ghetto bongos," which merely served as a reminder of why I hated Megg so much and how relieved I was when they finally got rid of her.

There wasn't much else of note, and since my Powerbook is making some really strange noises, I'll make this mercifully short.

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Wednesday, November 01, 2006

JOHN ON JOHN™: America's Got Talent Chicago Auditions (Part True)

Previously on John On John™...
...match made in heaven..., steaming...

...the man who made it...

...rubbed the crew member...
And now the exciting conclusion of John On John™ as told by the other John...

What began as a business outing with my boss to interview people at the auditions for America's Got Talent, ended up turning a trip to Navy Pier into a hellish ride through "CVS Pharmacy presents Navy Fear."

I was awakened early by my Editor-in-Chief, John Eats, on Sunday morning. I had planned on a nice long morning with Jesus and his dad and some other guy that is always with them, but the Chief said it was urgent, "Big story breaking down on the docks," he exclaimed in his usual gruff tone, "...Hasselhoff...all the major news outlets there...get me a shot of the Hoff or you're fired."

Once there, the Chief explained to me that he had a few things he always did as a ritual to prepare himself for a big story. So after humoring him by eating a sodium stick with gelatinous cheese on a bird-shit-covered table (oh, no, this was not an outdoor table, folks...those filthy little winged urchins were right there with us), I thought he was ready to work. But no...

He next insisted on riding the ferris wheel despite my persistent ear ache in the cold winds. As it turns out my doctor had advised me that it would be best if I avoid the cold, but if I were to go out I should lean my head to the right to allow the mucus and other discharge to drain out. That's right, look more closely at the picture of us on the ferris wheel...I kept trying to drain my ear wax (notice the extreme discomfort in my eyes) but John kept coming to my side of the gondola with the awkward excuse of wanting a better view of the water treatment plant. I just kept praying to Jesus to send me some sort of time machine to help me escape this horrible situation and travel back 85 million years to safety.

Finally I convinced John to do some marketing for by dropping business cards around for the sailors on leave. Hell, I just want to finally start cashing my JohnEats paychecks which seem to be printed on the back of candy bar wrappers.

After dragging John, kicking and screaming, to the audition for America's Got Talent, I felt the dream coming to fruition. This was it...finally I, Psychictoad, would be there with the Hoff. The man who brings down the house and made a stand in an industry in which no hetero men would be caught dead inside a gay car...this man would be right before me in all his glory. I put up with the cheese pretzels and cheese fries and, well, just too damn much cheese...and now it would pay off.
Psychictoad: Hi, ma'am, we are with the press. We have some questions for Mr. Hasselhoff regarding his pioneering work on tv, stage, and screen. Do you think we could speak with him?

Event Staff Member: Who...oh, he's not here. Are you here to audition? We are just taping footage which we will send back to be judged.

(Sound of steam shooting out of Psychictoad's horribly infected ears)
So did John lie in his post? Yes. But he did tell the truth about one thing. It was my fault we were escorted out. After the news of the Hoff taking a nice big Baywatch Nights dump on the city of Chicago, I lost it and began flailing like a madman. John, who at this time was busy photographing the girls doing gymnastics around the waiting area, tried to calm me but in doing so alerted the security to my accomplice. Unfortunately because of the camera and excessive recording equipment which John had in his bag, and the picture from the ferris wheel which was promptly delivered to the Department of Homeland Security (they are very quick), we were removed from the Pier and branded as terrorists.

Even with that little setback, the date still seemed to go on forever. This date left me yelling "Run, Forrest, Run!" Oh, and Roger, the only sparks on this date were from the all new "hair raising" Static Ball located at the Amazing Chicago's Funhouse Maze inside Navy Pier (hey someone's got to get paid)! Don't call me...

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