Recently in Amusing Photos Category

I spotted this in a Korean supermarket last night. I'm still trying to figure out what exactly it means. Needless to say, I avoided the oysters.

From the menu at Marmalade in Los Angeles

This seems to be illogical. Thanks to m_ruv for spotting it.

There's nothing quite like Halloween on a Saturday, especially in West Hollywood, CA, where over 500,000 people convene to show off their costumes and check out everyone else's in what usually proves to be the people watching event of the year. And as you all know, if there's anything I love, it's people watching. In 2008, I got all arts & crafty and built a Price Is Right costume that I was sure would wow the masses. It was certainly well received, but I must confess that it really didn't elicit the rapturous response I was really going for. And yes, I'm very shallow about these things. I won't mince words: I wanted attention.

This time around, I decided I'd go with a sure-fire strategy. If I wanted my costume to be a rousing success, I'd have to a) walk around in as little clothes as possible, or b) engage in some '80s nostalgia. Guess which option won out? A few trips to some thrift stores later (not to mention Michael's in Burbank and a wig shop in Hollywood), and I had all the essential items needed to make my very own Zack Morris costume. Cheap '80s nostalgia, here I come!

Warning -- somewhat NSFW. Buttocks, bare chests, and tranny areolas (not in that order) after the jump...

So about five minutes ago, I turned on my TV, and as is wont to happen, I heard the audio first for about three seconds before the video came through. Almost immediately, I recognized the distinct singsong timber of Sandra Lee's voice as she assured the viewing audience that "this couldn't be any easier because THIS is a MICROWAVE dip!" Oh lord. What horrors awaited me?

Sure enough, the image came through, and I nearly jumped back in horror as Sandra stood there in full wicked witch regalia. Crazy costumes are nothing new for this wacky lady, but it was entirely way too jarring for me to handle. Of course, a morbid fascination then overtook me, and I rewound to the top of the episode to see what horrendous Halloween treats she'd be making.

A truly disgusting image after the jump.

A curious thought ran through my head today as I glanced at an image of Bea Arthur: who does the "OH REALLY?" face to better effect? Cindy McCain or Dorothy Zbornack? Cindy was the previous champion, but next to Dorothy, she looks almost pleasant. Then again, that glimmer of a smile also suggests a deep, icy evilness whereas Dorothy's just looks pissed.

Thoughts?

The Los Angeles crew lost a vital member of its community today. And by vital, I mean "stocky, even-keeled, and generally assholish." Yes, I'm talking about the beloved IndianJones, who is currently driving northward to the icy climes of San Francisco where he has taken a job with Internet giant Yahoo! (exclamation theirs, not mine). These will be trying times for our group (formerly called the Lametourage until very recently when we decided that The VC, or Vicious Circle, best describes our badinage and dynamic). Point is, without IndianJones, we lose that certain je ne sais quoi (ironic since he hates the French). Who's gonna be the first one to tell us that a girl is fat? Who's gonna come over and turn off the oven timer FOR NO GOOD REASON WHEN SOMETHING IS BAKING? And who's gonna babble incessantly about the multi-faceted glories of Tom Brady? No one, I tell you. No one.

And so it was with a heavy heart that The VC said its goodbyes to IndianJones last night. Burgers, kir royales, and macaroons were had (followed by awkward hugging — IndianJones doesn't like personal contact). However, just because IndianJones is gone doesn't mean he's forgotten. In honor of his two influential years here in Los Angeles, I've gone back through my archives and dug out the best IndianJones photos I could find (and let me tell you, compared to my iPhoto library, these are just the tip of the iceberg).

Enjoy, if you would, this tribute to the man, the myth, the Masshole.

For the past several months, I've been promising various friends that I would try yoga, but every time I try to get my act together, something comes up, and the whole endeavor falls apart. It's been quite frustrating for all parties involved. Well, this past weekend, whilst summering in sunny (yes, sunny) Seattle, my friend Meeshie suggested I try some yoga poses. It really was the perfect moment for such an activity: the weather was beautiful, the waterfront exquisite, and the company lovely. And so while m_ruv manned a camera, Meeshie set about teaching me some basic poses — none of which I held longer than about twenty seconds. Hey, it's a start.

Photos of me attempting to display minor flexibility after the jump...

I was bored today; so I decided to have some fun. What would happen if The Real Housewives headed into the many worlds of Super Mario Bros.?

Pics after the jump...

Earlier this month, NASA commenced the final servicing for the Hubble Telescope, and while the photos of the mission are fascinating, I felt they could use some added pizzazz. What better way to spice up some boring space shots than by adding some nouveau riche women into the mix?

After the jump, I present you The Real Housewives in outer space!

And here it is. The alleged mug shot of Danielle Staub from The Real Housewives of New Jersey.

In the preview of next week's episode, one of the cast members holds up a book titled Cop Without A Badge, which supposedly features all sorts of dirt on Danielle's sordid past. Thankfully, a reader sent me a juicy excerpt, which includes this pic of Danielle, who's referred to as Beverly Merrill. Is this her real name or just a literary alias? Not sure. But what we do know is that according to the book (whose veracity cannot be vouched for), the author claims that this Beverly character had been busted for extortion, kidnapping, and possession. But don't fret too much. It's not like Danielle was a criminal mastermind. She merely partied with a criminal mastermind, and from the sounds of it, when that guy got busted, she got cuffed too. Sort of like an '80s version of Adriana La Cerva.

To read all the poorly-written details, check out the excerpt here.

Last night, my friends J-Unit and IndianJones headed into the Valley for the Grand Opening party of The Painted Nail, a nail salon owned by our friend Katie, who many of you may remember from the old days at TVgasm. Of course, The Painted Nail isn't just any nail salon, and Katie doesn't throw just any old party. This bash was chock full of beautiful people and quite a decent number of celebrities — enough at least to warrant a red carpet and some paparazzi at the door. And here I thought there'd just be some champagne and few spanikopitas going around on trays. How wrong I was.

Photos of the event as well as a run-down of the celebrities present after the jump...

With the weather being so warm and awesome-ish, I went up to my building's pool yesterday and was quite surprised to see some missing letters on a nearby plaque. Needless to say, juvenile snickering ensued...

"Well hello."

Back when I joined Twitter in February, I announced a plan. I wanted to gain at least a thousand followers and have one of them be a celebrity. Well, it's almost three months later, and I'm at a steady 389 followers, which is nice, but let's face it: I really expected to be crossing the 50,000 threshold by now. Nevertheless, while I'm more or less happy with the progress of my Twitter army, I'm a bit concerned about this whole celebrity follower issue. Namely, that I have none. For a brief second, I thought Shia LaBoeuf had signed up to receive my droll commentary about life and its ironies, but it turned out that it was a fake Shia. Consider my mood dashed.

Compounding my frustration is that I actually know two people who could be considered celebrities, but I don't have the sort of friendship with them that they'd just ADD me, and I feel nerdy emailing them and asking them to add me (besides, that takes out all the fun). I really want the celebrity to come organically. However, I'm starting to realize that this might never happen. Therefore, I'm going to entice a celebrity to follow me. And that celebrity is Blair Underwood.

There's been scandal brewing in IndianJones's apartment building. First a letter went up from the manager Tatyana complaining about a bunch of irascible gay youths in the pool after hours. Then a second letter went up from Tatyana, saying that the first letter was a fake and that her name should not be used in vain. So which cold and calculating person could possibly be setting up Tatyana for the fall? Meet Suspect A: an oiled-up lass in a candy cane (!) bikini that IndianJones spotted by the pool from his window. Sure, she looks all innocent and melanoma-ready, but I'm starting to think she could be at the heart of this scandal. Take a look at the evidence:

1) She's got the motive! Clearly this woman likes her pool time. The last thing she needs is a bunch of loud gay guys ruining her peace. Besides, what if they spread their AIDS in the water? Not cool.

2) She and Tatyana are clearly enemies. It's basic girl principle: heavyset older women simply cannot be friends with younger attractive women. Tatyana most likely resents this girl for her youth and figure. The girl resents Tatyana for charging her rent and giving her nasty looks.

It's all so obvious: scare the gays off, claim the pool for herself, and let Tatyana take the blame. A perfect crime.

Or, of course, there's the other explanation: she's just a girl by the pool who has nothing to do with anything. I choose not to believe that. Either way, IndianJones got his jollies today, and that's all that really matters.

Spotted at Crate & Barrel: the "Ginny Pitcher."

I immediately had vivid, uncomfortable memories...

Thanks to IndianJones for having the eagle eyes to see it.

"Hey Toots. My name's Joanne, and I work at Hertz. Now get me a coffee, would ya?"

Courtesy of Socialite Life

A new supporting character has played a prominent role on this season of The Hills, and her name is Stacie — or as Stephanie Pratt has been prone to calling her — homewrecker, slut, whore, etc.. To me, she's just "bartender" or "that girl from The Hills" or "that girl from The Hills named Stacie who I pretend like I don't know her name but clearly I do." Anyway, I had some friends in from out of town last week, and when I asked where they wanted to go out to, they admitted that they really wanted to check out The Dime, which just so happens to be where Stacie works and where Spencer had his big brawl with Cameron and where Heidi had her jealous girlfriend moment. Needless to say, with all this excitement, my friends understandably couldn't resist checking out this epicenter of pop culture drama.

Well, we all arrived at the bar, and I was fairly shocked to discover that Stacie was actually working at The Dime. I just naturally assumed she was an actress cast to play the role of a bartender on the show. But lo! She's a real working woman. Naturally, I acted as if I didn't even know who she was when she took my order (even though in my head I was quietly planning out the blog post word by word). I'm sure she realized, however, that we were ardent fans of the show because on more than one occasion, she literally snuck up out of nowhere and cut through our group as we were saying such choice things as "Yeah, she really does look pretty in person" or "We should call her the homewrecker" or "It's so funny that the girl from The Hills is actually here." We were very smooth.

I believe this picture really brings new meaning to Kelly's signature put-down "I'm up here, and you're down here."

One more picture of crooked mammaries after the jump...

My friend Lindsay sent me this wonderful side-by-side photo, and I think her description says it all: "A funny thing occurred to me while I was watching ashton kutcher's twitter celebration (http://tr.im/j4uC). Demi Moore and Jill Zarin share at least ONE thing in common..."

Tasty!

Via Kim Kardashian's TwitPic

"I'm sawwwy."

I think this picture of Chris Brown, taken at today's arraignment, will now become my standard issue "caught-in-the-cookie-jar-and-am-sorry" photo for this blog. I don't think I've seen such a shameless attempt at puppy dog eyes in quite some time. Surely, he'll be able to win over any judge.

Unless, of course, the judge is...

This picture may just look like a benign image of Sunset and La Brea in Hollywood, but it's actually something very special. Right in the middle of it — under the Ross sign — are two Segways chugging along, and one of those people rolling along is none other than Steve Wozniak, a.k.a. The Woz, a.k.a. Kathy Griffin's former gentleman caller a.k.a. current contestant on Dancing with the Stars. Now, you'll just have to trust this is true. I wasn't actually there for this pic. It was taken by loyal comrade IndianJones, whose excitement on seeing such a huge figure in the tech-geek community must have been off the charts.

Nevertheless, IndianJones assures me that it was indeed The Woz on Wheels, probably headed off to rehearse for tonight's big show. Not a bad way to start the morning...

"Bawbbbbby, I used some Zaaaarin Faaabrics and dressed up Aaaaaaalllie like a head of lettuce!"

Over the weekend, I headed to Las Vegas to celebrate the joint 30th birthdays of IndianJones and J-Unit, and as is likely to happen in Sin City, we promptly came upon some hawt girl-on-girl action right on the strip. Needless to say, our cameras caught all of the action.

To see a few more pics, as well as the hotties who were locking lips, follow the jump...

Guess who the blurred out star is in this photo.

The answer after the jump...

Every year, half a million people descend on the West Hollywood Halloween Carnivale to drunkenly cavort and show off silly costumes. The looks range from simple and innocent to elaborate and bawdy. It's nothing short of an eyeful. And it's super fun. This year, a group of us headed down into the fray, and of course I brought my trusty camera. A large assortment of photos after the jump.

BE WARNED. There are a few pics that might not be very safe for work (partial, disturbing nudity!!!!)

I don't understand the context whatsoever, but I have to admit that this photo of Benjamin McKenzie is hilarious. Ben, if you're reading this, hi.

Via Socialite Life

This just in from one of my East Coast correspondents: a succinct yet powerful license plate found on I-84 West, just outside of Hartford, CT. Nothing more really needs to be said; although, I am a bit sad that there was no visual confirmation of Spencer Pratt behind the wheel. Heyyyyoooooh!!!

If this blog seemed particularly quiet on Friday, it's because I spent half that day getting in touch with my inner farmer. That's right, in a shocking departure from my usual urban adventures, I headed north to the San Fernando Valley and visited Forneris Farms, a random outpost in Mission Hills, CA that's home to a pumpkin patch, a market, and most importantly, a corn maze. The experience was aggressively wholesome, and even better, there was not a single child in sight. Actually, there was one kid, but she was cute and relegated to the safe environs of an inflatable bouncy pumpkin.

The motivation for this trip actually stemmed from a strange mixture of childhood yearnings, pop culture wish fulfillment, and general boredom. You see, ever since I was a kid, I've been obsessed with mazes. I always dreamed of going to a hedge maze, and while I've been to some, they've always tended to be quaint things that are less about a challenge and more about good gardening. In recent years, my friend Meeshie and I have tried in vain to go to various corn mazes, but scheduling tended to always get in the way. The one time we did manage to get ourselves over to a maze, we were shocked to find that it didn't even exist. We were confronted with nothing but an empty field. It was horrifying.

Recently, news popped up of a David Archuleta corn maze in Utah. It seemed like the perfect opportunity. I could fulfill my corn maze fantasies, indulge in some kitschy pop culture, and get a beautiful road trip out of it to boot. Unfortunately, I had no one to go with me. The only person who was interested in such an adventure was Jash, and since he actually has a real life job, he couldn't just traipse up north at the drop of a hat. Sadly, this perfect union of American Idol and corn would not be happening, but I still had the maize on the mind. After doing some research, I discovered that we had a corn maze right here in the Los Angeles area. I called up my friend Sawgee and convinced him to join me as I finally embarked on my very first corn maze experience.

Photos of this adventure, including our disorienting journey through the corn maze, after the jump...

I've had quite the run of exclusive experiences of late: a meet and greet with Julie Chen, a visit to The Soup, a stroll through the Gossip Girl set, and of course, back to back infiltrations of the Big Brother finale and wrap party. Am I bragging? Indeed. (Somebody's gotta drum up traffic around here). With all this access to the glitteratti, I'm starting to feel like Perez Hilton (except funnier, I hope); so why not add one more event to the list: the Fox Reality Channel "Really" Awards.

Avid readers may remember that I attended the first ever Really Awards two years ago at Les Deux. Back then, it was a smaller, more casual affair. The network was young, the stars didn't know what to expect, and in my studly prime I was able to actually walk the red carpet. Man, those were the days. Cut to this year and holy moly, the Really Awards have gotten big. According to the brass I spoke with, there were about 300 celebrities (or rather, "celebrities") present, which meant my anonymous ass did not get to walk the carpet again, which by the way was totally cool. I completely understood. It was a zoo, and the last thing the organizers needed was me clogging up the carpet. Honestly, I was just happy to get in. This year's ceremony was apparently a hard ticket to get. Rumor amongst the partygoers was that even recent reality stars like Jessie from Big Brother 10 were denied entry. Ouch/haha.

Nevertheless, I may not have dazzled the paps awkwardly this go-around, but I certainly had my fill of reality stars. I took pictures with as many as I could, but honestly, there's only so much one man can do. Pictures and stories after the jump.

Spotted in Manhattan Beach on Labor Day: a license plate simply reading "SMELLAY."

Now that's what you call a chick magnet...

Take one part Megan Mullally, one part Mariska Hargitay, add a dash of Tina Fey, and dress it all up in some JC Penney, and you have Governor Sarah Palin, the newest face in the 2008 Presidential Elections. Tapped to serve as John McCain's vice presidential running mate, Ms. Palin is a stranger to a good many people, including me, and so in an effort to educate myself, I did what any curious blogger would do: no, not read her bio (although I did eventually do that). Instead I dove into Google Image Search and found a veritable treasure trove of Palin pics. I present to you my very favorites.

If there's any one thing that could cost Barack Obama this election (aside from his uncanny ability to wear Urkel pants while playing basketball), it would be taking this photo with universally reviled reality star, Johnny Fairplay. Granted, John McCain isn't totally free of unsavory supporters himself as he's welcomed the endorsement of professional cotton-ball Heidi Montag. Still... Fairplay? Really, Obama? Kind of negates all those attacks on Hillary Clinton's judgment, no?

Via Midseason Replacements

In honor of last night's Project Runway, which introduced America to the sassy yet demanding ways of drag queen Hedda Lettuce, I've decided to post this similarly bizarre ode to leafy greens: a license plate that says "I &hearts CHARD." Now, I'm sure we all love Swiss chard as much as the next person, but going so far as to immortalize your adoration in license plate form truly represents a passion above and beyond what the casual kale or escarole enthusiast would be able to muster. I've truthfully never encountered someone with such a rabid obsession with chard, but hey, I'm not going to turn my nose up at it — even though it is bat-sh*t crazy. Everyone's allowed to embrace the leafy green of their choice. In fact, I'd like to see more license plates boasting unfettered love for salad ingredients, if only to see how "dandelion greens" condenses down to an appropriate, DMV-approved length.

With today being the seven year anniversary of me moving to Los Angeles, I decided to browse nostalgically through my old iPhoto library, and much to my surprise, I came across a series of photos that I never published back at TVgasm. If memory serves me correctly, I refrained from posting the pics because I had been put on the VIP list for some party (that's how I roll), and then when I arrived, the organizers forced me to pay a $20 cover to get in. It was kind of bullshit, and I really don't know why I didn't turn around and leave right that moment. Nevertheless, my petty revenge was to not post anything about the event and deprive the organizers of valuable publicity (I think they were hawking some calendar), but as a result, a minor trove of D-list celeb pics fell by the wayside. Until now.

After the jump, the long lost photos as well as two bonus pics from the Playboy Mansion (I told you. That's how I roll, yo)...

C'mon, Crate & Barrel. It's 2008. Corkscrews are for ALL waiters.

How can you tell you're in West Hollywood? Well, for starters, the yard sales are all FABULOUS and the license plates are, well, gay. Literally. Above, a sign my friends and I encountered on the street. After the jump, a license plate you really can't argue with...

Here's something to disturb you: Heidi and Spencer handling firearms. Yes, if there was ever a photo shoot that could get the Supreme Court to reverse its latest decision on gun control, it would be this one featuring our favorite Hills duo preening at a shooting range. I'm uncomfortable watching trained soldiers brandishing weapons, let alone these twits. Let's just be thankful that no one in the vicinity was struck by a stray bullet, courtesy of Heidi answering her Sidekick.

A few more pics after the jump, and if you want to see all 50+ photos, click here.

(Pacific Coast News Online via Socialite's Life)

As I was toiling around the Internet the other day, I came across this severe photo of Cindy McCain (are there any other type?) and a thought occurred to me: if everyone had a pocket-sized version of this pic, we could have a utopian society. Think about it. Any moment you're contemplating cheating, slacking off, or being disrespectful, one look at this photo will completely change your mind. Sounds crazy, but it's true. Cindy's face is so harsh and judgmental, it's almost as if she's asking you — and only you — "OH REALLY?" How can one transgress in the presence of such matronly disdain?

Examples after the jump.

The Daytime Emmys were held last night, and while I didn't watch the festivities, I certainly checked out Yahoo's photo galleries, and needless to say, there are several intriguing pics on display. After the jump, my five favorite shots of the night.

Okay, they weren't really naked. I just wanted to post something really quickly since it might be an hour or two before I get my next A-list, celebrity-laden story up later today.

Leave it to Heidi and Spencer to upstage the most jaw-dropping photo of the week.

For more Speidi escapades in the Magic Kingdom, check out photos of them and their surprisingly wide array of Disney headware at A Socialite's Life.

Last night, as Elisha Cuthbert was exiting venerable Beverly Hills eatery Mr. Chow's, a guy fell over and gashed his head. The plucky 24 star was ever so kind to help him up, but that didn't stop her and her positively DISMAYED friend from sharing a joint look of shock, confusion, and repulsion. And really, isn't that all we want from a paparazzi photo? Kinda my favorite pic of the week right now.

Via Socialite's Life

Earlier today, I was looking at a picture of Abigail Breslin on Best Week Ever, and for some reason, her face struck me as being particularly Juliette Binoche-ish. I couldn't help wondering if it was just me, or if their faces were truly interchangeable. I busted out the Photoshop, and ten minutes later, I had the bizarre results.

Photos after the jump:

'Allo!

I'm in a rush; so I can't write anything funny about this pic, but honestly, do I even have to?

BLOODY GOOD TIMES, GUV'NAH!

Common sense and some sort of innate, animal instinct tells us that when it comes to lions, we humans should probably keep our distance. However, someone forgot to pass along the memo to British school teacher Kate Drew, who on a recent safari, opted to get up close and personal with the big cats, thinking that, you know, she wouldn't get her head gnawed off. Turns out that maybe she should have thought twice. The unlucky woman quickly found herself the chew-toy of choice for one jovial lion, but thankfully, she survived this completely predictable and avoidable attack. Non-graphic photos after the jump...

It's funny because it's true.

I love when the Yahoo! News algorithms go funky, as evidenced here when a picture of a dog was chosen to represent the twenty-four semifinalists on American Idol. Ominous foreshadowing or merely wishful thinking? I'd tune in.

"Hands up, utensils down. God, I'm good."

If I were a woman, especially a pale woman with no makeup in an oversized shirt and fat jeans, I wouldn't want to be photographed next to Padma Lakshmi —  especially when she's in full-on catwalk mode. Put simply: there's just no way to look good. But alas, that's exactly what happened to this poor lady who found herself accidentally meandering onto Padma's invisible runway. I'm sure the woman's very pleasant looking in real life, but next to all that PadmaGlamour™, well, she's just so PLAIN.

Yes, it's the dreaded umbrella effect of Padma —  a phenomenon that increases people's blandness the closer they get to her. Somewhere, Gail Simmons is quietly crying. And eating.

(Pacific Coast News via A Socialite's Life)

While I was out the other night, I came across that most exciting of encounters: a cougar trapping some young, innocent prey into her dangerous clutches. Of course, I did what any good samaritan would do in that situation: I busted out my camera.

Now for those of you who don't know what a "cougar" is, rest assured that I'm not talking about an actual cougar cat. No, "cougar" is slang for women of a certain age who aggressively target younger men to be their, er, paramour for the evening. It's a mesmerizing phenomenon, and witnessing the dance of the COUGAR (best said with a deep, low, Will Arnett voice) is an event unto itself.

That being said, no brush with a cougar has ever been as ill-advised as the one I witnessed the other night. I didn't get many pics, but I got enough. I guarantee you'll be recoiling. Photos after the jump.

N.E.R.D.H. —  No One Ever Really Dances the Hora

Here's a story I think we can all raise a glass of Manischewitz to. Recently, hip-hop singer and über-producer Pharrell stumbled upon an Orthodox Jewish wedding and was so fascinated by the proceedings that he decided to hang-out and watch. The families then invited him to come join the festivities, one thing led to another, and now here we are with pictures of Pharrell doing the hora on TMZ. It's a wonderful world. Not since I got to enjoy an "herbal moment" with Method Man have I been so happy to see a Jewish/hip-hop crossover. I still, however, am waiting for the inevitable Streisand/Soulja Boy collaboration.

(via TMZ)

I decided to make a LOLcat for the first time ever. If you think it's funny, click on the pic and vote on the site. If you don't think it's funny, well, then I guess this is very awkward, isn't it?

(via I Can Has Cheezburger)

"Heeyyy guys. Do you like my dehydrated pumpkin? Me too."

(via Getty Images)

Janet: Oh, Mr. Obama, it's really so wonderful to meet you! I can't tell you how excited I am for your campaign. Before I forget, this here on my right is my dearest friend Luanne—

Luanne: I just got a perm.

Obama: Ahh... very nice...

Janet: And this is Marilyn. She just loves you!

Marilyn: Janet, ohmigosh. I can't believe you said that.

Obama: Well, it's lovely to meet you, ladies. Thanks so much for coming out to support—

Janet: We were so excited to meet you that we got you a gift. Marilyn, did you bring the tea cozy? The one we got at Mervyns? I want to give it to Barack here.

Marilyn: I, uh, I'm sorry. I'm just a bit overwhelmed.

Janet: Marilyn, now is not the time. I'm so sorry, Barack. How was your flight? Marilyn, will you please check your purse? MARILYN.

Marilyn: My purse? I don't even know what that is. Is it warm in here? I think I need to sit down or—

Obama: Honestly ladies, you really didn't need to get me a cozy. I have plenty—

Janet: No, it was our pleasure... MARILYN, GET THE DAMN COZY OUT OF YOUR PURSE.

Marilyn: I'm a... I'm a... Oh lord...

Luanne: So you really like my perm, right? You're not just saying that.

Janet: Luanne, he doesn't care about your perm.

Luanne: But you said that he would.

Janet: I think Mr. Obama is a very busy man, and he doesn't need to comment on your hair.

Luanne: You said he would like it. You SPECIFICALLY said that.

Janet: I know what I said, Luanne. Let's not raise our voices. I'm so sorry, Barack.

Luanne: You're lying, Janet. And you know it.

Janet: You know what, Luanne? Why don't you just go back to the car, okay? Here are the keys. Just take them and just... just... get out of here.

Obama: I'm sorry, I really have to get going.

Marilyn: I LOVE YOU.

Janet: Marilyn!

Luanne: Screw this. I'm going to Olive Garden.

(Photo courtesy of the New York Times)

"HONK!" If You Love Children's Theater

AND HOW! There's so much to love about this random, little blog post (which admittedly was published last July). There's the utterly unabashed, un-ironic enthusiasm of its headline; there's the ebullient comment of one Cookie Kubarek who writes "HONK! HONK!! HONK!!!" (note the steadily increasing use of exclamation points); there's the blog author who includes a dictionary link for the word "kvelling" (oy!); there's the fact that this production is actually called Honk!; and then there's the photo of our young, honk-worthy stars reaching a crescendo of music and emotion, as evidenced by their outstretched arms and open mouths. I particularly like the one kid in the glasses whose lack of theatrical rapture suggests that maybe he was foisted on this production by an over-eager stage mother (a stark contrast to the short boy on the right, who's clearly already in line for the next Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat audition).

If this post doesn't satisfy your sweet tooth, be sure to check out the rest of The Falls Village Blog, a hokey corner of the web that bills itself as "News, Gossip, and Opinion from Connecticut's Brigadoon." Yes, it's the ultimate small-town blog, boasting aggressively quaint pictures of frolicking children, old-fashioned fire trucks, and the ever so chic Country Couture fashion line, housed at Robin and Allen Cockerline's Whippoorwill Farm (I'm not making this up). The site is truly something out of a Norman Rockwell painting, which means it'll only be a matter of time before a some horrific scandal rocks its world. You know, like a black person moving to town.

Nevertheless, HONK! if you agree with me.

• "Honk!" If You Love Children's Theater [The Falls Village Blog]

I don't often visibly recoil in my seat when I check out British tabloids, but that's exactly what happened when I stumbled upon this image of Rhydian Roberts, star of the British hit, The X Factor, on holiday with his tantastic aunt Maxine. The contrast is stupefying.

Be warned: application of sunglasses may be required for viewing the uncensored image after the jump...

While Kanye mugs for the camera, Beyoncé waits patiently for two platters of diamonds to materialize in her hands.

According to Kanye West, Beyoncé is apparently a genius with the Connect 4 as she beat the rapper nine times on a recent trip to Vegas. It's not as impressive a feat as, you know, an Oscar win (or nomination), but it's nice to see that Beyoncé now has a new talent in her already extensive repertoire (which includes but is not limited to shimmering in spotlights, strutting into rooms, and nose-diving down staircases).

(P.S. it's time for Kanye to "upgrade upgrade" to a digital cam)

In an ill-advised public relations move, the Ministry of Truth hires Sharon Stone as the new face of totalitarianism.

"And so I walked into Toys 'R' Us, saw Geoffrey the Giraffe, and told the clerk, 'I want that skinned, cleaned, and ON MY HEAD!'"

[Buzz Photo via Best Week Ever]