The weirdest thing you will read all day

This little doozy comes to us courtesy of our friends over at Gawker. Guaranteed, this is the weirdest thing you will read all day.

The young lady pictured at left is Corinna Burt. She looks like a regular gal, does she not? She's also a real Renaissance lady. Remember when you were a kid and you wanted to be an astronaut-ninja-doctor-firefighter when you grew up? Well, Corinna has a weird hybrid career sorta like that. Only really, really, really weird.

Corinna is a bodybuilder who loves to choreograph those fun routines they do at bodybuilding competitions—the ones where the musclebound lummoxes (lummoxi?) nimbly hop around on stage and flex their lats and generally look like Vera deMilo. In a phone interview with Gawker, she shared her greatest dream: to be photographed for Muscle & Fitness. So she's a bodybuilder!

But wait! There's more. Corinna is also a licensed mortician in the Portland, Oregon, area and considers funeral service her calling."It seemed like the most fascinating thing in the world, the embalming process," she told Gawker. So she's a bodybuilder-undertaker.

But wait! There's even more. Corinna is also the star of several hardcore torture porn videos. Which I don't even want to know more about. So she's a bodybuilder-undertaker-S&M porn star!

But wait! There's even, even more! Corinna decided to leave the sordid world of porn so she could be a better Holocaust-denying neo-nazi. That's right: much like our old pals the Gaede twins and Heritage Connection, Corinna is all about the Adolf. She even has a fucking Hitler tattoo! A really bad one, too. It looks like Hitler has a mullet and some kind of degenerating lip disease. Don't worry—she covers the tattoo up when she competes.

Corinna told Gawker of her white power-ism: "If we consider ourselves a master race then we have to act like a master race, not degenerates. I credit my involvement with the NSM [national socialist movement] and my awakening racial consciousness as what got me out of the porn industry for good. I have no desire to return, though I admit 'Nazi Girls Gone Wild' has a nice ring to it." Someone call Joe Francis! Or Bombshell McGee. Actually, Bombshell McGee has probably already done this, so day late and a dollar short, Cori.

Anyway, we're now up to bodybuilder-undertaker-S&M porn star-nazi. She's also got kids—two girls—that she says she's encouraging to marry white men and have white babies. Aww, isn't that nice? Maybe she can use April Gaede's nazi dating service to fix those little ladies up with some nice skinheads someday! So, this now makes her a bodybuilder-undertaker-S&M porn star-nazi-mom.

But wait! There's more! Corinna revealed to Gawker the biggest bombshell of all: "I raise gerbils, too."

So in conclusion, we have Corinna Burt: Bodybuilder-Undertaker-S&M porn star-Nazi-Mom-Gerbilist. This might make a good reality show, actually. If she made cakes, has six more kids and involves a little person, it can be on TLC.

It's not you, it's me

Hey girl, how's it going? Oh, I'm good. Sorry I haven't called...been really busy. I've been traveling a lot this for work this summer. Chicago, New York, you know.

Actually, there's something I need to tell you. Sit down. This is hard for me to say, but I've been lying to you. I have, and I need to come clean. Don't get upset, baby. You know I love you and you deserve to know the truth.

So here it goes: there's someone else. It's true. I'm seeing someone else and I'm leaving you for her. How long has it been going on? The truth is, it's been going on for some time. About three years, to be honest. Baby, baby...there's no need to yell. The whole neighborhood can hear you! This is between us.

I'm moving out today. I already have a lot of my stuff at her place. Don't tell me you didn't notice. You had to have known something was wrong. Yeah, you remember. Back in May, when I became really distant. It wasn't because I found out about mom and Delonte.

Why am I doing this? Because she promised me a ring. Yeah, you're right...you could have given me a ring, but I got scared and pushed you away. I just couldn't stop thinking about her, and if you would have given me a ring, it just would have been that much harder to leave.

Don't cry, baby. You'll find someone else before you know it. You'll forget all about me! Yes, you will. You deserve someone great and you deserve a ring, too, but it's just not going to be with me.

Hey, don't throw that! What are you, crazy? Calm down, baby! OK, OK, I'll stop calling you baby! Relax! Stop slapping me! OK, you want to know the truth? You asked for it! Yes, she IS hotter than you! Way hotter! In fact, she's hot year-round, unlike you! You get so cold sometimes...frigid! She never does. But you're right, she doesn't like rock n' roll the way you do.

Listen, I hope we can still be friends, I really do. Maybe the next time I'm in town, we can have lunch or something. C'mon, don't be that way. Let's handle this like adults. Fine, if that's how you want it. Once I'm gone, I'm gone, and I'm never coming back. But you're going to regret it. I'm the king, baby! You're nothing without me!

Girl, I've never seen you like this. You don't need me? Yes you do! C'mon you need me, YOU NEED ME! Yeah, I know she's seeing other guys, but she's just so hot!

Fine, I'm outta here. I'll show you! You may have made me, but I'm the chosen one! Stop pushing! Watch it, don't slam that...dammit, the door hit me right on my ass! You better get that fixed!

Don't even think about calling! I'm changing my number! You need me! YOU NEEEEEEEDDDD MEEEEEE!

Baby?

13 worst uses of rock in commercials

Advertising agencies are fucking stupid. The evidence is in our faces for at least seven minutes of every half-hour of television we watch. What's most infuriating is blatant cluelessness about the music that's used to illustrate a product.

Behind every dumbass commercial is some fatcat telling the marketing minions that he/she heard about this cool song that really might speak to the kiddies like, for example, "All You Need Is Love" and wouldn't that be perfect to use in our new commercial for Luvs diapers? Get it?? Love = Luvs!

"But boss," the minions say. "That's a classic song that the legendary and beloved John Lennon wrote as an inspired simple message to be understood by all cultures and nationalities."

"Fuck that!" Big Boss says, slamming a chubby fist down on the conference room table. "This song is perfect for telling people what diaper to use to catch their baby's rancid shit! MAKE IT HAPPEN!"

And so it goes in advertising boardrooms across America. And speaking of rancid shit, check out these 13 sad examples of horrid usage of rock n' roll in advertising.

13. Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Sweet Home Alabama" for KFC
Because the K in KFC doesn't stand for Alabama.

12. Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Simple Man" for Busch
Imagine writing a song in honor of your beloved grandmother who has just passed away and the valuable life advice she bestowed on you while she was living. Now imagine your grandmother's legacy being visually illustrated by a bottle opener prying the cap off of a bottle of cheap, watered-down beer, a horse rearing up in front of a snow-covered mountain and a breathy disembodied voice gasping, "Busssschhhhhhh." OK, you're right...it's actually pretty awesome.

11. Jane's Addiction's "Jane Says" for Jack Daniel's
When I kick back with a nice refreshing fifth of JD, I like to think about the simple pleasures in life: good friends, good music, good liquor and good old-fashioned prostitution. And heroin addiction. Ahh, good times...

10. The Smiths' "How Soon Is Now?" for Nissan Maxima
Whoever thought it was a good idea to use a Smiths song in any commercial does not deserve to live. This example is particularly embarrassing. According to this ad, the Nissan Maxima offers 45 square feet of leather, seven Bose stereo speakers and zero cars like it. But according to the song, if you drive this car to a club in the hopes of meeting someone cool, you're just going to end up standing alone, leaving alone and going home to cry and consider suicide.

9. Jefferson Airplane's "Volunteers" for E*Trade
What is the opposite of "sticking it to the man"? A song with the lyrics "One generation got old / One generation got sold / This generation got no destination to hold" being used to advertise online stock trading and investing. To make matters worse, E*Trade is the same company that makes those hideous talking baby ads. The newest one has two infants taking a red-eye home from a bachelor party in Vegas. Do I need to say more? I hope not, because I'm about to throw my Putey out the window.

8. Bow Wow Wow's "I Want Candy" for Old Navy
"I want Christmas to come early!" "I want khakis, cords and cargos for $15!" "I want a 14-year-old to sing about blowing a guy she just met at the beach!" "Yaaaaaaay, we got everything we wanted at Old Navy!"

7. Creedence Clearwater Revival's "Fortunate Son" for Wrangler Jeans
The usage of "Fortunate Son" in a commercial that seems to be about patriotism is the perfect example how out of touch stodgy advertising execs are with reality. However, to their credit, Wrangler stopped using the song in the commercial when John Fogerty expressed his displeasure with his anti-war song being used to shill pants. Who the hell wears Wrangler jeans anymore anyway? I didn't even know they were still being made!

6. Cat Stevens' "If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out" for T-Mobile
This one holds a special place in my craw because Harold & Maude is one of my favorite movies. The song is played when Maude is encouraging Harold to embrace life and says, "Everyone has the right to make an ass out of themselves. You just can't let the world judge you too much." That's not necessarily what I think of when I see Whoopi Goldberg, Phil Jackson, Jesse James and a slew of former SNL castmembers showing me what awesome things they can do with fucking smartphone apps. Because they're all making asses out of themselves and I'm judging them a hell of a lot.

5. Led Zeppelin's "Rock and Roll" for Cadillac
When I was growing up Caddys were the cars rich, white, old people drove. The were huge, boat-like vehicles that gave you the weird sensation of floating down the street like you were in a hovercraft. Now, suddenly, the kids think Caddys are cool. Apparently, the company is now running with that and trying to appeal to them with devil music. Too bad the song they chose isn't actually about music at all. Oldsters: "Been a long time since I rock n' roll" is Satan's code for "been a long time since I've gotten some ass." In other words, the back seat of your cars aren't seeing as much action as an '84 Camero. Sorry. But it does give the tagline "Break through" a whole new meaning.

4. The Beatles' "Revolution" for Nike
In 1987, Michael Jackson gave Nike the right to use The Beatles' anthem about political upheaval in the late '60s in a commercial about shoes. To illustrate the cluelessness behind this travesty, the line "When you're talking 'bout destruction" plays over footage of John McEnroe throwing a temper tantrum. The surviving Beatles sued and settled out-of-court; Yoko approved; Me Generation wins.

3. Janis Joplin's "Mercedes Benz" for Mercedes Benz
This commercial is the ultimate in irony: a song written about materialism and consumerist culture that places too much emphasis on labels and status symbols used to advertise the very label-whore status symbol it derides. The British version I've linked to here shows a whole world of average joes waiting on buses, working on construction jobs, commuting to work, rocking babies to sleep and even herding sheep using the song's "Oh lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz" as an actual prayer to the magical sky fairy to bless their sad little blue-collar lives with an overpriced luxury vehicle.

2. The Rolling Stones' "Brown Sugar" for Pepsi
An ad released in the late '90s featured an animated housefly sipping some spilled Pepsi...and singing a song about whipping and raping black slaves. Nothing more needs to be said about that one.

1. Iggy Pop's "Lust For Life" for Royal Caribbean
Because nothing says family fun on the open seas like a song about shooting up. All aboard the junkie cruise, everyone! Mom's going to go turn a few tricks in the galley and Dad's going to blow the captain on the lido deck to get their fix! Here, little Timmy, have some liquor and drugs and a flesh machine before climbing the rock wall! I'd like to think that Iggy is laughing all the way to the bank, but who knows in an era that saw Dennis Hopper in ads for Ameriprise and the Gap.

American Perv-parel

OK, American Apparel. I've had all I can stand and I can't stands no more. I'm sick of opening up my city's free weeklies and seeing some chick's ass in a houndstooth thong leotard all up in my face. I just want to find out what's going on in Cowtown this weekend. I don't want to see crack and pubes. At least not that early in the morning.

For the record, I've never entered an American Apparel store or spent any of my heard-earned money there. And, yes, this makes me feel morally superior. When AA first appeared in Cowtown several years ago, I admit I was mildly curious. What was this new store in town that sells gold lame hot pants and terrycloth wristbands? And why does their advertising showcase these outfits in a somewhat porny manner? Just who is American Apparel?

Then, I saw a show about AA and I was exposed for the first time to the man behind the lame and terrycloth: Dov Charney.

Now, I've mentioned Dov on this blog before—he was one of the illustrious 13 Biggest Douchebags of 2009 (congrats!), a title that I can tell you now he's going to maintain in 2010. The hammer is starting to come down on this guy, but let me first tell you why that will be so deliciously satisfying.

Dov refers to himself as a "hustler" and seems to fancy himself this visionary sultan of sleaze. He screws his employees. He hires "real people" who are (or look like) 12-year-olds to pose provocatively in neon spandex for ads. He's had about a gazillion sexual harassment suits filed against him. He regularly jacks off in front of his female employees and reporters. He peddles mesh jumpsuits. You get the idea...

Anyway, it's been known for years that AA requires wannabe-employees to submit photos with their applications—a head shot and a full body shot. They regularly turn down people who don't have the "right look" to work at AA. Which translates to: you won't be selling tie-dye lace bodysuits and purple velour rompers because you don't look like (a.) one of The Strokes, or (b.) a picture on a paedo's computer.

Gawker and Jezebel have been regularly reporting on the looksism going on behind the scenes at AA and the shit is really starting to hit the fan. Disgruntled former employees are coming out of the woodwork with internal documents that detail the rigid appearance standards Dov requires of his minions. Don't wear crop tops unless you're the width of a cocktail sword! Don't wear gladiator sandals! Do wear booties! Don't wax your eyebrows! Paint your nails day-glo orange! No nose rings! Etc., ad nauseum. (Based on their advertising, I'm curious about their stance on camel toe. Good or bad? Required??)

Even creepier, Dov requires each store to take a monthly group photo and send it to the higher-ups so they can monitor and judge what everyone looks like and what they're wearing and weed out those who are "off-brand."

The ironic thing about this whole sordid fiasco is that Dov himself is the very definition of "off-brand." He looks like a combination of photographer Terry Richardson (another notable creeper), a '70s-era porn star, Crazy Harry from The Muppet Show and the wad of hair I recently fished out of my bathtub drain. At what brand would this look be on?

I want this guy to go down. Immediately. People, stop buying basic tees at this hellhole. I know you think they're great, but do you really want your hard-earned dollars to support Mr. Hairy Crotchshot? Exploitation! Discrimination! Bad fashion! These are crimes we need to take seriously. For christ sakes, this is a store that includes John McEnroe shorts and fucking sateen Hammer pants as staples! I drove by there the other day and they had high-waist leggings on the mannequins in the windows. HIGH-WAIST LEGGINGS. Who would buy that?? Nobody in their right mind could possibly want to wear half this stuff, even i they were buying it for an early '90s-themed party.

Come on, y'all—please join me in a boycott of Dov and his hot-pink manties with green piping. I won't judge you if you've shopped at AA, but I will judge you if you went there because you just had to have a stretch floral lace mini-dress. If Color Me Badd isn't involved, that is off-brand everywhere.

Treat your mama right!

Happy mother's day to moms everywhere! If it wasn't for you, none of us would be the upstanding, well-adjusted individuals we are today! In honor of your day, here's a very special message from the one and only Mr. T. (I like how it's OK to call each other fat, ugly, skinny and stupid, but for the love of all that's holy, don't bring your mama into this!) Thanks, T!

The dirt on the dirt

The highly anticipated TripAdvisor's 2010 Dirtiest Hotels in America list was released and I did not report on it RIGHT AWAY. I'm sorry! I hope nothing bad happened as a result of this oversight.

Actually, I'm thinking it might be a good thing to talk about this now—vacation season is right around the corner! And any time you go on vacay, be sure to find out what you're getting into with your accomadations. Seriously. Bed bugs are making a huge comeback and they've evolved into a kind of super bed bug that is immune to the usual extermination tactics. Even Billy the Exterminator would probably run screaming.

Anyhoo, this list is particularly close to my heart this year because the Parisian Hotel & "Suites" in Miami made it! It sounds fancy, doesn't it? I once booked a room there with some friends, naively thinking it was going to be one of those charming art deco retro-style inns that are all over the place there. We ended up in the back of a Thrifty rental car shop that appeared to be the actual entrance into Satan's ass. You can check out that fun story of sex, drugs and unidentified "fluids" right here. Needless to say, I'm pleased to see the good ol' Parisian is getting the recognition it deserves.

As has been my custom in past posts on this topic, I'd like to present a few of the more colorful comments left by disgruntled and disgusted guests. Remember: you can laugh now, but someday you won't be laughing when you're on vacation and you wake up to find fresh rat poop on your pillow and a human head in the coat closet.

When we checked in, the manager offered us a free upgrade to the "Honeymoon Suite." It was a set-up. The "Honeymoon Suite" had a vacant room next door that was "under construction." I was undressed to get into my swimsuit and heard breathing. I felt someone staring at me. I looked under the big gap under the adjoining room door. I saw eyes looking back at me!

My dog could have cleaned the room better. He would've given better service as well.

This was by far the worst and most disgusting hotel I have ever stayed in North America. It beat out a hotel in central Turkey that had a hole in the floor toilet that doubled as the shower, or I might have said the world. To be fair, the Turkish hotel cost 5 dollars.

The rooms are so filthy. I wanted to leave 409 spray there so maybe they would get the hint.

If you like being treated as a second class citizen or if you have severe daddy issues and you need to be talked to like you are a bad little boy I recommend this hotel. If not, then I would say steer clear.

I've stayed in crappy hotels before but those were when i was younger and looking for a place to get my groove on for an hour and for $20.

I went to the restroom, I kid you not a minute after doing my business I heard as if someone had thrown a bucket full of water. I went back into the restroom and there was a huge hole that had just opened right on top on the toilet from water coming from the room on top. WOW!!!

I can not believe this rat hole is still in business (excuse my language).

Had the ambience of fresh vomit.

I wouldn't even recommend this place to the outdoorsy types because it's just too expensive and probably dirtier than a tent.

Also, great news for international travelers! TripAdvisor is also now doing Dirtiest Hotel lists for Canada, Europe and Asia! When is GOOP going to get on this??

Happy birthday, Eric A.!

The dirty little secret

The weather is finally nice here in Cowtown, and that means one thing: Mormons. They're always lowering around in pairs, wearing short-sleeved white button-downs, skinny black ties and bicycle helmets. I wondered where they were coming from and it turns out there's not one, but TWO LDS churches within a 10-mile radius of my residence. And there's a whole lotta ungodly fuckery going on in this neighborhood, let me tell you. So they're double-timing the door-to-door. WTF, LDS? I'm sick of ignoring them when they knock on my door and shoving the tract under the door back out at them. So I'm going to make fun of them on my evil heathen blog.

This loosely (pun intended) ties in with a creepy phenomenon I recently became privy to: Secret Keeper Girl. What is Secret Keeper Girl, you ask? You're going to regret that question!

Secret Keeper Girl is a series of books, but it's also kind of an organization. It was created by a woman named Dannah Gresh, author of such feminist classics as And the Bride Wore White and Lies Young Women Believe. Would you like to know what these books are about? Regret number two! Well, Bride is chock full of "how-to-say-no skills that can reduce the risk of a young woman's heart being broken" and Lies preaches the message that sex, drugs and rock n' roll iz badz.

Which brings us to the big secret that Secret Keeper Girls wants you to keep. Just take a wild guess what it is. That's right: vag. Well, they call it "purity," but they really mean vag. Girls, a broken heart is the least of your worries...

On her website, Dannah reveals that she didn't keep her pants on when she was in high school and a radio sermon from (of all people) James Dobson reduced her to tears and spurred her to confess: "It took me three hours to tell my husband in the darkness of my bedroom. Satan had me cornered into a prison of blackmail until the very moment that my lips uttered a long-awaited confession."

Gee, Dannah, dramatic much? Christ, it's not like she killed someone, ate their brain and made jewelry out of pieces of their skull, like some people we know. OR DID SHE? Anyway, Dannah somehow found the strength to overcome her sordid past and now coaches moms on how to guilt their daughters into keeping it closed.

Dannah's website is enticing with its hot pink, orange and green color pallette, flowery flourishes and girly fonts. It looks very Hannah Montana... that's the show that stars that little hobag Miley Cyrus! Stop confusing me, Secret Keeper Girls!

SKG puts a big emphasis on modesty and dressing age-appropriately, which is something even I can actually get behind. However, I can't get behind the site's Truth or Bare section, which gives girls helpful "modesty tests" to help them tell if their outfits are too skanky. Let's try it! To find out if you're showing too much tummy, do the Raise & Praise! "Stand straight up and pretend you are going for it in worship, and extend your arms in the air to God. Is this exposing a lot of belly? Bellies are very intoxicating, and we need to save that for our husband!" Drunk off belly...that's a new one to me. And what exactly are you supposed to be "going for" in worship? Sounds a little sexy to me...but then again, I'm tainted by rock n' roll and the media so everything sounds dirty to my Satanic ears.

Now, if you think that last test was bad, check out the one known cryptically as "Grandpa's Mirror": "Get in front of a full-length mirror. If you are in shorts, sit Indian style. If you are in a skirt, sit on a chair with your legs crossed. Now, what do you see in that mirror? OK, pretend it is your Grandpa! If you see undies, or lots of thigh, your shorts or skirt is too short." Um, GROSS? How about if Grandpa is staring at your crotch, call the police? Or Chris Hansen.

Like I said, I don't think the message of dressing age-appropriately is bad at all, but why does it have to be tied up in all this good/bad, virgin/whore shit? And why is it always up to the girls to keep people from looking at them? Are boys being forced to make creepy purity pledges to god and pretend their mirrors are Grandpa? Of course not! Boys are rabid, hormone-charged beastmasters. Look alive, girls! You're surrounded by randy wieners! Don't let anyone get intoxicated by your belly! You might get your heart broken! Or AIDS! (Oh, wait, only gay people get that!) Worst of all, you might get a Bad Reputation! And you might find yourself one day crying over James Dobson sermons and making a heart-wrenching confession to your hubby in a dark bedroom. And it will all be because you couldn't keep one measly little secret...

Hey, speaking of randy wieners, I wonder what happened to my favorite website NoMoHo? It's gone! I refuse to believe they couldn't sell enough NoMoHo chastity belt buckles to keep the site in business. Because chastity belts are so popular! In fact, Lauren Conrad is coming out with a line of them, exclusively at Kohl's.

Once again, I've written an entire post with no real point, other than to make fun. If sarcasm was a sin, I believe Satan himself would hand the pitchfork over to me when I die.

It did make me feel a little better about the return of the Mormons...

That's called survival, baby!

Schroeder: What's the matter with you? All you think about is "gimme, gimme, gimme; get, get, get"!
Lucy: That's called survival, baby!

Best quote ever from a children's cartoon!

Why isn't It's the Easter Beagle, Charlie Brown shown on TV anymore? That show was fucking great! Marcie tries to toast eggs, Sally tries to walk in pink clogs and Snoopy has a psychedelic vision of dancing bunnies.

My personal favorite scene was when Snoopy got a peek inside Woodstock's birdhouse and discovered that he had the place all pimped out super-'70s style, complete with op-art furniture, a stereo with giant headphones and jazzy Playboy Club-style music. Sort of like when Greg Brady went all hippie and turned Mike's den into a groovy crash pad. Anyway, Snoopy gets jealous and tries to then get into the love den and, of course, destroys it. Whoever wrote the acid trip script for this show was a brilliant genius. If you want to see this scene, click here and go to about 6:30. Awesome.

Anyhoo, I'm cooking up some super-fun posts, so keep an eye out. We really need to discuss this Jesse James situation.

More to the Corey story

In light of The Haimster's death, lots of interesting stories about his love life are starting to trickle out. Did you ever really want to know about this? Trust me, it's fucking fascinating!

First, Jezebel scored an interview with Lala Zappa (is her name really Lala Sloatman? I always thought it was Zappa), the girl 13-year-old Rockit never met, but used to hate because she dated Corey. She even mentions Alphie's Soda Pop Club in the interview. God, my little friends and I used to dream about hanging out at that place with all the cool kids like Andre Gower from The Monster Squad and Nicole Eggart and that other girl from Charles In Charge. The interview is a real eye-opener, as it turns out Lala was really, really insecure during that time period. Stars: they're just like us!

Next: did you know Corey dated Victoria "Posh" Beckham before she was in the Spice Girls?? How did that happen?? And she apparently cheated on him with someone who wasn't Becks.

Last and perhaps of most interest to regular S&C readers: Corey was most recently dating none other than Daisy "Alexis Arquette" De La Hoya from our favorite show Rock of Love!! Apparently, the two were introduced by Feldman and had recently had their first date at the Playboy mansion. Yesterday, she Tweeted: "I'm sooooooo devastated right now. This is the worst day ever I can't believe this." She also wrote, "Why do I always fall for the lost soul? We could of been lost together, now your lost forever.... Ill miss you."

See? Fascinating! The secret side of Corey Haim...one we didn't see in his legendary fan video Me, Myself & I.

Good night, Haimster

Today is a sad day. Poor Corey!

Jezebel put together this very nice and nostalgic teen dream scrapbook of Corey's most memorable roles (I can't believe they left out Roomies, which has the best, most cheestastic theme song ever, but whatever). I still bawl every time he fucks up the football game in Lucas.

What is going on in Hollywood? Brittany Murphy, Andrew "Boner" Koening and now Corey? I find it interesting that both Brittany and Corey were experiencing "flu-like symptoms" right before they died. What does it all mean?

No matter what it means, I know spent a good part of the day feeling bad about making fun of him several times on this very blog. I remember getting just about every super centerfold issue of Bop, Teen Beat and The Big Bopper (they had the BIG posters) to decorate my room with Corey and watching The Lost Boys and License To Drive until I had them entirely memorized. And I hated Alyssa Milano and Lala Zappa because they both dated Corey. A little piece of my junior high world is now gone.

Here's to you, Corey Haim. RIP

Sleep with dogs, rise with fleas

Before I start today's rant I have to mention that I got a most interesting and vexing comment in my inbox, and now I wish I hadn't deleted it. I'm 95% positive it was spam. But it looked like a one-paragraph excerpt from a dirty story! It didn't look like spam: the spelling was good, there were no dubious-looking links, it didn't blatantly solicit anything... but what else could it be? Are they going to send me a few installments, get me hooked and then reel me into to some kind of Nigerian bank account scam? If anyone has seen something like this, please let me know. Not that I wanted to know what happened, or anything...*ahem.*

Now, on to today's fuckery.

The tranquilizers have worn off over at GOOP, because our old pal Gwynnie is at it again. This week's post is about Sleep: How to do it and how not to deprive yourself of it. Apparently, "lie down and close your eyes" isn't enough. And something tells me Ms. Holistic frowns on taking Ambien (or tranqs) when you need a little help.

The post kicks off right away with the pretensiousness: "Basically everyone I know is knackered, me included." OK, we get it: you live in England. I hate it when people who are not British say things like "whilst" and "knickers" in order to sound smart and worldly. And we all know Paltrow won't let us forget for a second that she's as well-bred as a Triple Crown champ.

This post was inspired by a book Gwynnie recently read about how sleep deprivation makes you look older and causes hormonal imbalances. So us serfs can benefit from her infinite wisdom and high-powered connections, she consults "one of" her doctors about why getting a good night's rest is great. Evidently, sleep is as essential for health as a good diet and exercise. Dammit! When is sitting on the couch all night, eating Doritos Collisons and watching Celebrity Rehab reruns going to be essential to good health? GOOP always ruins everything!

Speaking of ruining everything, wait until you hear some of this wacky advice. First, the good doctor names some of the hinderances to a good night's sleep, including "Stimulants or substances that can affect sleep (alcohol [Boo!—Ed.], caffeine, medications, recreational drugs [BOO!—Ed.] herbs, and even some vitamins.) Wait a minute...what was that last part? Herbs? VITAMINS? Gwynnie's world view might turn upside down. And for the love of Deepak Chopra, don't tell Suzanne Somers!

Doc also offers some helpful tips on proper snoozing, including this:

Close your office door, or find a quiet spot somewhere and get comfortable. Take 5 minute breaks throughout your day to focus on your breath. If that’s challenging, then focus on your feet and then your hands. Feel them for a few minutes; become aware of them. This will calm you down. Quieting and slowing your mind calms the body, which is the perfect antidote to the over-stressed state we are often in.

So he just assumes that everyone has an office door. News flash: cubicles don't have doors. Or walls. Does this guy honestly think that the average working stiff is going to be able to do this? Let's be realistic: anyone with five minutes on their hands is going to race outside for a smoke break.

Even worse, he recommends cutting out caffiene COMPLETELY. Is he trying to kill us??

Now here's where it really starts getting fishy. He next says we should "Go for it!" on an elimination diet. That means cutting out things like sugar and processed foods, plus eliminating dairy and gluten products—there goes the Doritos Collisions. Next, he wants you turn off the TV, computer and video games by 10 p.m., dim the lights and take a warm bath. 10 p.m.?? That's when the really good bars open!

Well, Doctor Death doesn't care about that, because according to him, we're not supposed to use alcohol or sleeping pills to help us fall asleep. This would prevent me from my usual nightly routine of acting out scenes from Valley of the Dolls. "My beautiful little dolls! Just one...and one more." I think it's going to be a Neely night!

Next Gwyneth's doctor recommends...oh, just take a guess. That's right: HERBS! Didn't he just say we weren't supposed to take herbs? I'm so confused! He signs the posting with "one love." This made me curious, so I looked this guy up. SURPRISE! His calls himself a "health evangelist" and his practice is all about "alternatives"—detoxes, acupuncture, chiropractic, supplements and so on. His site actually says, "Although we try to avoid Pharmaceuticals, we do prescribe them when necessary." I love how actual, scientific, FDA-approved medicine is the last resort. If that's the last possible thing that works, shouldn't you do that first? Call me crazy! Also, if this guy and his methods are so great, why wouldn't he be Gwynnie's only doctor? Things that make you go hmmmm....

The entry also includes some recommendations for good bedding. Of course, it's all hellishly expensive and high-end. Hungarian goose down (what makes Hungarian geese better than, say, Czech geese?), high-thread-count cotton sheets, ironed linens...who has the time or money for all this?

I want to know who GOOP's target audience is, because every time I read this newsletter, I feel like I just accidentally walked in to some secret meeting, and the attendants all turn to stare, judging me silently. Then after I slink out, they'd hurmph about having to be within several feet of a commoner.

Now I'm all wound up. I'll never get to sleep. Thanks for nothing, Gwyneth Paltrow! I still don't know what "knackered" means. Where did I put those dolls...

Another reason to not fuck with Norway

They'll put on skin diving suits and chase you down the street with tridents. I don't blame them. Google Street View is creepy.

Norwegian men in scuba gear give chase to Google Street View Car
Sorry to bust your bubble you Berlin Google pranksters, but a couple of guys from Norway just pulled off the best Google “Street View” prank yet. Seems two unidentified gentleman had heard a Google camera car was in the neighborhood, so they decided to dress as scuba divers and laid (or rather sat) in wait for the unsuspecting car.

As soon as the Google vehicle passed by, the two men sprang into action. They both leapt from their respective lawn chairs and gave chase as best they could behind the “Street View” car as it traveled down the road with one of the men brandishing a fishing fork. Fortunately for Google, since both the men were wearing diving flippers at the time, the pursuit did not last very long. All the while, however, the Google cameras snapped away at the bizarre chase taking place.

Now it seems no one is exactly sure how these Norwegian men caught wind that there was a Google “Street View” car in their town. What is known, though, is that Google apparently did not mind the funny scene as they posted the photos on Google Maps. Just go to “Street View” level to see the pair on the side of the road and then continue down the street to see them give chase.

So you mean to tell me they weren't scooped up by an air tanker and dumped on a forest (or in this case, stave church) fire? Ha ha, just kidding—you can actually see the lawn chairs on the right side of the picture. It looks like they also have an umbrella and a newspaper, so they must have been there for a while. How long did they wait? What ran through the minds of passersby? And who are these masked and flippered men? I'm going to pretend that it's Abbath and Horgh from Immortal. Bergen, Norway, could use a little injection of humor now that the Count is walking among them once again.

On a side note, I'm disturbed that it appears to be SUNNY in this picture. So that means The Grim and Frostbitten Kingdom has sunshine and no snow, while Cowtown marinates in a vomitous muck of icy sludge.

Rest in peace, Lee

Isabella and the Squid

Ever wonder about the sex life of a bee, an anchovy or a barnacle? Love Isabella Rossellini? Well, I'm about to make your day.

Isabella is the star of a hilarious—and educational—Sundance Channel series Green Porno. Just try not to fall in love with this. My fave, of course, is the squid.

Random observation

Remember the old "We Are The World" video? And how the camera panned over the stars as they sang and all of a sudden you saw Dan Aykroyd with headphones on singing, too? And you thought, "What the F is Dan Aykroyd doing there?"











Did you see the photos from the recording session of the new version of "We Are the World?"



Vaughn: The New Aykroyd.

Neo-nazis need love, too

Much like herpes simplex, some of our old friends from posts past have a knack of just popping up unexpectedly. Count Grishnackh does this quite a bit, as does Suzanne Somers. Now we can add the Gaedes to that list.

If you've forgotten (and how the hell could you?), the Gaedes are a family that consists of twins Lynx and Lamb—also known as national socialist folk-pop duo Prussian Blue—and their mom April, who is sort of like a Dina Lohan-style stage parent, momager type. Who totally loves Hitler. In fact, the Gaedes love Hitler so much, they make Hitler snowmen (see Exhibit A, pictured left).

It's been a while since I blogged about this outfit. But it wasn't too long ago that I blogged about a Prussian Blue copycat group and wondered whatever happened to the original Olsen twins of the Third Reich, Lynx and Lamb. Still no word on that front, but a fun little piece of news did come out today that involves Mom April.

The hate group watchdogs at the Southern Poverty Law Center report that April Gaede has undertaken a new venture: neo-nazi matchmaking. That's right. April's now using her "connections" to hook white people up to breed more white people. “I am willing to act as a go between, researcher, matchmaker, older sister and guide for any WNs [white nationalists] who are looking for a WN spouse,” the Center quotes her as writing on a white power website. “Only email me if you are serious about finding a spouse or long term partner.”

You had me at sieg heil, April.

Just kidding. I wouldn't qualify anyway. My uncle sent a cheek swab to National Geographic and found out the Rockit family ancestors came from Northern Africa. Dirty! Tainted! Just like everybody in the whole history of the fucking world.

You may ask what qualifies April to be a matchmaker. Well, she's married, for one thing. And she likes to boast about how awesome her relationship with her husband is. “I was 37 with two children when my husband Mark and I met,” she wrote. “In any other circumstances we might have been an unlikely pair, a city boy who plays hockey and a country girl who trained horses. But because of our ideological similarities and our mutual concern about the future of our race we have much more in common than the average couple today.”

Those crazy kids! Who says opposites don't attract? Maybe they should make one of those cringeworthy how-we-met commercials like eHarmony does to promote April's matchmaking business. They could also film spots featuring successful matches. "I didn't want anyone to know I was having another racist find a white partner for me," an attractive but non-threatening blonde could say. "April matched us on 28 levels of deep Aryan compatibility." Come to think of it, eAryan would be a great name for the service! Or eWhitey. Even better!

Anyway, not all has been wine, roses and combat boots in April's love life. She and her first husband, the twins' father, bitterly divorced and her ex cited April's racist lunacy in an attempt to get custody of Lynx and Lamb. She says that her only regret of the whole ugly affair was that she didn't produce “four to six more children with that ideal eugenic quality that [Lynx and Lamb] possess.” Holy schnikes. This chick is hardcore!

It also turns out she has a real knack for hooking people up. Wait until you hear this:

April has a long and sordid history of micromanagement when it comes to the twins' "band." It all started when she recruited a very special songwriter to come up with some tunes for her then-preteen girls to sing: David Lane, an elderly former Aryan Nation leader serving a 190-year sentence for murdering a Jewish radio show host. He apparently was the model for Stacy Keach's character in American History X. Yes, Davey is a real Renaissance man.

Anyway, when Davey died, April evidently appointed herself micromanager of his funeral arrangements, too. She had Lane's body shipped from a prison in Indiana to her home in Montana and interred his cremated remains into 14 miniature pyramids. The SPLC reports in their article that the pyramids were supposed to be given to 14 different women, but a big fight broke out over the whole thing. Gee, how surprising that they all couldn't just deal with it in a calm and rational manner.

Maybe I'm naive but this thing with the body and the remains and the pyramids is just over-the-top bizarre, and that's saying a lot for this bunch. It's worth reading some of the other stories on the SPLC's site about April. As you're reading, imagine her as one of those wild-eyed pageant moms that pantomime routine steps along with their makeup-soaked toddlers. Among her repertoire of antics, she likes to angrily confront store clerks in checkout lines with wild accusations of pandering to minorities and shake them up to the point that they forget to ring up one of her items. She claims to always walk out of K-Mart or Ikea with something free and says it's the store's problem, not hers. And you thought your parents were embarrassing.

Plus the SPLC has a way with words. They refer to Prussian Blue's songs as "shrill odes," which I'm totally stealing.

They also mention that there exists a documentary about the Gaedes called Nazi Pop Twins. It sounds like a real winner even beyond the title, so stay tuned for an S&C skewing (if I can manage to get my hands on it).

Anyway, that's the latest from this koo-koo krazy little korner of the universe. Now you'll be able to sleep at night. Sweet dreams!

Who's helping and who's hurting in Haiti?

Here's who's helping: Cooper.



Here's who's hurting: Travolta.

If you want to be a Cooper, please give to the Red Cross. It's nonsecular and $cientology-free. Fuck Travolta.

Twit fight! Twit fight!

I'm totally embarrassed that I even know about this, but deliciously evil gossip blogger Perez Hilton and professional whore Tila Tequila got in a Twitter fight today and I found it totally hilarious for some reason. See, Perez (probably correctly) assumes that Tila is using the recent death of Johnson & Johnson heiress Casey Johnson to further her whoredom. Tila, of course, is completely offended that anyone would insinuate such a thing. But she's a whore. So you decide.

Anyway, it really evolves into a fun little third-grade slappy fight complete with project promotion and masturbation denial. Lick it up:

Perez: I'm amazed you're not broadcasting live, showing us you're "grieving"! That's totally something trash like you would do!

Tila: have some decency! You love poking fun at people who have passed away dont you? First Mocking MJ's Death & now My FIance's?

Perez: Tweet away, honey. The more you Tweet, the more your true colors reveal themselves. And they are vile! You should try and get custody of her daughter. That'd be GREAT publicity, all you crave in life!

Tila: Actually Casey & I were going to do that next. That was my Wife's wish was for me to adopt ava. Ur jus jealous nobody loves u.

Perez: OF COURSE that's what she wanted! Suuuure! Why would anyone believe YOU???? You are a PATHOLOGICAL LIAR!

Tila: Lonely @perezhilton Cant find anyone else to pick on so now he thinks he can pick on me cuz I'm in a vulnerable state with my wife passing

Perez: And I DO have decency. That's why I will NEVER mention you on my site again. I care too much about my readers!

Tila: Truly a sad individual @perezhilton first u Mock the death of Michael Jackson and now this? U seriously need God. Wait. God Rejected you.

Perez: Go back to grieving and exploiting her death. You're great at being soulless!

Tila: oh after watching your bitch crying snot throwing video about how my friend @Iamrealwill punched U..it was 2 embarassing!

Perez: SEE! You do my job for me! Using her death to publicize yourself and your projects. Applause! Thanks for proving me right!!!!

Tila: Everyone just forget about @perezhilton he's lonely and bored so decided to pick on me at a time when I an mourning my Fiance. Good Job Pig! oh please. Stop lying to people pussy prezz! U say u stopped posting about me years ago. Then u delete it then u post again. U act as though I want my name on your website? Oh honey please get a grip. Nobody gives 2 shits. Especially me about ur site.

Perez: Keep on at it, girl! Go! Go! Go! You're digging your own hole!

Tila: Keep talking all that non-sense piggy prez @perezhilton but just admit the truth & that is you're now threatened by my new Gossip Blog.

Perez: Yup, that's the truth! You're a fucking genius! Ha ha ha ha

Tila: what does my deceased fiance have to do with you and your lonely life? Im lonely cuz my fiance passed away. What's ur excuse?

Perez: Bitch, please. I see right through you. You are paper thin! P.S. You're a shitty actress! You gotta learn to fake it better!

Tila: oh wait. U have no life. No one to love you. Never got engaged, wished u were a woman but in ur words #epicfail move along now.

Perez: I have the love of my mom and my sister. True love! Something you obviously know nothing about.

Tila: see? @perezhilton tries 2 start shit w/anybody when he's lonely. He lies 2 his readers pretending to hate celebs but in real life kisses ass

Perez: If my mom died, I wouldn't be granting repeated interviews about it! I wouldn't be Tweeting repeatedly about my grieving!

Tila: But we all know that about him by now, so his website is no longer credible. It was cool like 6 years ago but now its all washed up w/lies.

Perez: This is not about Casey Johnson. This is about YOU and how disgusting you are! And how ur using her death for ur gain! Gross!! And if somebody I cared about died, I wouldn't be fighting with anyone on Twitter!!!!!!!!! You are your own worst enemy. That's why YOU'RE new website is gonna be awesome! Woo hoo! Publicize that new website girl! Kill Casey again! That new blog is gonna be awesome! Too bad Casey didn't die after you launched it, right? That timing would have been great!

Tila: On my new Gossip Blog, u get EXCLUSIVE MATERIAL & I won't lie to my readers like @perezhilton does. Never. My Gossip site will shit on his!

Perez: If Casey Johnson could come back from the dead, she'd come and fucking kill you for how you've been behaving! #YouAreWack

Tila: keep my Fiance's name out of your foul mouth U piece of trash! Have some respect! Casey hated your fatass! So shut the fuck up

Perez: You are so blind! This is not about me. This is about YOU! This is about how vile you are and your actions recently. You lose!

Tila: its about me? I thought you said you didn't care about me or mention me? Why are u all up in my business then? Hmm stalker much

Perez: Guess you're done "mourning" your wife! Now go back to showing your titties and pulling tampons out of your coochie!

Tila: Another lie from @perezhilton claiming he doesn't care about me cuz I'm a "nobody" yet he is constantly stalking my life & everything I do!

Perez: Look up the word "constantly" in the dictionary, you imbecile. You clearly don't understand it's meaning. You may always wanna look up the word imbecile, as you probably don't know what that one means either. Violence is never the answer, but I hope one day @Rihanna gives you what you have coming!

Tila: hey u better be careful who u talkin to. You're SO LAST YEAR! Just be careful cuz I got all of my paparazzi's on LOCK!

Perez: Bitch, I'm not scared of you. You are a JOKE! And the paparazzi can suck your cock! You're like the boy who cried wolf! Remember how you told everyone you were pregnant and then said you were joking?

Tila: First of all I never pulled no damn tampon out nor masturbated..those were YOUR LYING WORDS once again. Get a life! and yes I do remember saying I was pregnant. I dont recall how I lied about that? Just cuz I wouldn't tell ur fatass wut hppnd?

Perez: You are a PATHOLOGICAL liar! You will do ANYTHING for publicity! You have no soul! Go back to your fake grieving now!

Tila: You must REALLY be obsessed with me 2 go on and on and on about me this early morning. For someone who doesnt care, u really do

Perez: I'm done with you. Buh bye! xoxo

Tila: So sad @perezhilton is angry that my new Gossip Blog is going to put him out of business so he decides to throw a hissy fit this morning LOL

You know, I was totally against Twitter at first. I mean, who cares that Joe Blow is making dinner or taking a shit? But I didn't even consider the crazy celeb fights that would erupt! Maybe I should keep an eye on Blohan's account...

HNY 2010, bitches!