In Defense Of Pete Burns & His Pillow-Soft Crazy Lips*

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This is Pete Burns. Remember, from Dead or Alive?

Much has been made of Burns’ love affair with plastic surgery — in fact Pete himself complained about it in court and received a tidy sum in return.

But despite all that, despite the critics and Burns’ own grumblings, it looks like he’s still going full-silicone-ahead.

And you know what? Rock on sister.

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Louis Marinelli: NOM Traitor Or Trojan Horse?

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You’ve probably heard about Louis Marinelli. He was on the National Organization for Marriage’s marketing team until April of this year, when he experienced a sudden and complete transformation: he awoke one morning, kicked Maggie Gallagher and her hate-filled cohorts to the curb, and stomped off with NOM’s 290,000 Facebook fans in tow.

Which is great. I mean, I love transformation stories as much as the next guy. Hell, we all do — if we didn’t, we wouldn’t have theatre or film or novels or any of the stories we love and admire. In fact, I’d argue that the ability to change, to see the error of our ways (or tumble headlong into a life of crime) is what gets us out of bed in the morning.

So I understand the LGBT community’s desire to wrap Louis into the fold. We want to believe that bigoted, religious, conservative types are capable of walking away from hate. I know people who’ve done it, and it makes me very, very happy. However… Continue reading

Did A Nude Photo Of OJ Simpson Guarantee His Acquittal? [NSFW]

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Last week, I stumbled across a nude photo of OJ Simpson.

It was taken decades ago, back when he was still playing football and doing TV commercials and not stabbing people and trying on men’s accessories for juries of peers. (Sorry: allegedly stabbing people.)

I’d seen the nude shot before and wanted to use it for a post, but I wasn’t sure how to frame it. Could I have just uploaded the pic to Tumblr and gone to bed? Probably, but I wanted to make more of it. So naturally, I developed a half-baked theory.

The theory was this: people who pose nude stand a better chance of being acquitted.

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Board Minutes From The July Meeting Of The Esteemed Nancys Of The Nine

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Nancy Pelosi: Hear ye, hear ye! The July meeting of the Esteemed Nancys of the Nine will now come to order. Secretary Nancy, did you distribute the documents from our last meeting?

 

 

Nancy Kulp: Sure did, Chief Nancy!

 

 

Nancy Pelosi: All right, then I’ll entertain a motion from the Nancies to approve the June minutes —

 

 

Nancy Reagan: (Quietly) No.

 

 

Nancy Pelosi: Oh, god.

 

 

Nancy Reagan: (Louder) Nnnnnnnno.

 

 

Nancy Pelosi: Where is that coming from?

 

 

Nancy Reagan: (Shouting) NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!

 

 

Nancy Pelosi: Crap. Security!

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Things That Taylor Lautner Might Be Discussing With Gus Van Sant & Dustin Lance Black

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Last week, tweets were flying over a not-so-clandestine meet-up between director Gus Van Sant, screenwriter Dustin Lance Black, and actor Taylor Lautner. Since the three were spotted leaving an LA eatery on Wednesday night, there’s been plenty of rumor and speculation about what the three might’ve been up to (apart from not eating).

If the gossip mongers had just asked me, though, I would’ve been happy to tell them. By which I mean, offer some guesses about the topic of discussion:

1. A sequel to My Own Private Idaho. (Working title: My Own Gated Community in Southwestern Boise.) Katherine Keener and Patricia Clarkson play MILFs fighting for control of the neighborhood association. Lautner teaches them heartfelt lessons about life, love, and the perfect pot brownie. Then he kills them.

2. The inevitable Sad Keanu movie, in which Lautner would serve as stunt-double.

3. Robert Pattinson: is he really as nice as people say?

4. Who’s going to be mayor of Millions of Milkshakes?

5. Who’s got invites to Google+? And is it “Google+” or “Google Plus”?

6. How to kill skinny jeans once and for all without causing the return of Z. Cavariccis. (Yes, they’re still here.)

7. Amway.

Of course, it’s possible that Lautner has simply been drafted for the staged reading of Prop 8 transcripts that’s being put together by Mr. Black. Which would be fine, but far less interesting than Amway, IMHO.

Remembering Ed Norton (Shirtless)

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In my humble opinion, ladies and gentlemen, we have been deprived of Ed Norton for too long. We have shunned him, and it is time to right past wrongs.

Did he skirt the fringes of douchebaggery early in his career? He certainly did. Did he skim the accretion disk surrounding the black hole of Courtney Love? You betcha. But Norton persevered, emerging as an actor’s actor.

Over the past decade or so, he’s had a few more stumbles. Keeping the Faith. The Incredible Hulk. And of course, Death to Smoochy, which was like watching Paris Hilton cover your testicles in chalkboard paint, then letting her scrape her fingernails across them for an hour and a half while she belts out her rendition of “I’ve Got the Music in Me”. That may sound like a party to some of you, but you are in the minority.

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A Quick Apology (Feat. Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall)

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A quick apology to anyone who might’ve tried to stop by yesterday. I decided I’d get all fancy and switch to a new webhost, and in doing so, I managed to flub the WordPress install/import big time. Ugh, Tuesdays.

I still plan on going through with the change — that is, if I don’t give up on self-hosting altogether and move to WordPress.com. But just between you and me, I think I’m too much of a nerd for that. (See photo for proof.)

By way of apology, here’s a photo of Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall eating an ice cream cone:

Straight men, I gotta know: does that do anything for you?

And Now: Jamie Bamber, Mostly Naked

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I’ve spent the last couple of posts being analytical and thoughtful and stuff. I think it’s time for something lighter. Saucier. Beefier.

And so, since I’ve been watching a lot of Battlestar Galactica recently, I present Mr. Jamie Bamber.

I missed out on BSG the first go-round. When it launched in 2003, we hadn’t had cable very long, and I wasn’t in the habit of watching TV regularly. (I’m still not, with the exception of Adult Swim and Morgan Freeman’s Wormhole — which, BTW, should be done as a porn parody to-goddamm-morrow.)

Anyway, BBC America started running BSG on Saturday afternoons, and since it’s been brutally hot lately, and since I’ve been working on a couple of home improvement projects indoors, I’ve been half-heartedly watching the show. And now I’m hooked. In the past week and a half, I’ve Netflixed my way through nearly the entire series. (Yes, I know the last episode is supposed to be terrible, but I can’t help myself. I’m OCD like that.)

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Hyundai Has Played Gay At Least Twice — But Is It A Convincing Act?

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Weird: a few days ago, I posted a Hyundai ad that featured a lesbian plotline. At first, I found it confusing — not because the narrative was convoluted, but because Hyundai is one of the world’s few automakers that’s not gay-friendly. (Nor is its sister, Kia, FWIW.)  But as I said at the time, the spot was built by a Canadian firm, so I thought that maybe Hyundai was just being culturally sensitive — you know, since marriage equality is the law of the land in the Great White North.

A reader by the name of Anthony who lives in Vancouver was kind enough to verify that yes, the clip in question ran on Canadian TV, nixing any thoughts I’d had that it might’ve been a student ad or other mock-up. So could Hyundai be on the road to change?

A few days later, AdWeek posted a rundown of “The 50 Gayest Ads Ever” (whatever that’s supposed to mean). And when I finally got around to skimming the piece, I noticed that in the middle of all the double-entendres and psych-outs (you know: like that Doritos Super Bowl ad from earlier this year) was another Hyundai ad.

This time, Hyundai’s ad hails from Sweden, where same-sex marriage is also legal (though technically, the clip dates from 2006, three years before marriage equality was enshrined in Swedish law). And just like the Canadian ad, it feels, well, disappointing. Have a look:

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Justin Theroux & Terry Richardson Demonstrate The Bro-hug

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Gaydar. Pansyscope. Homosexory perception. Whatever you call it, many people believe they possess an innate ability to spot Gays at 20 paces. (Well, American Gays, anyway. In Europe, all bets are off.)

In reality, however, there’s nothing mystical or innate about it. Anyone with at least one functioning eyeball and some fourth-grade analytic skills can separate Gay wheat from Straight chaff.

Exhibit A: this photo of hot-but-minimally-talented Justin Theroux embracing unhot-but-super-talented Terry Richardson. Because they’re celebs and because I keep up with celeb news (it’s for work, I promise), I know they’re both straight. But even if I didn’t, I could figure it out from this snapshot, which demonstrates at least seven hallmarks of the straight-boy bro-hug:

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