The Fame Monster

It has recently come to light that the Father of the son who was supposedly trapped inside the family’s homemade hot air balloon that went bye-byes in sky-skys (only to be ‘found’ hours later in the damn house, hiding like the piece of shit kid he is) had choreographed the entire ‘ordeal’ in the hopes he could get a piece of that warm, sugery nirvana that is FAME.

First of all, if you’re going to pull off a believable hoax, it’s best to inform the authorities BEFORE approaching the media.  And frankly, if the Father was really that hungry for fifteen minutes, he would have IRL stuck his son in that balloon – perhaps equipped with a mini-mic and handicam to blog the entire process for his newly founded website BALLOONBOYBLUES.COM.

The moral of the story being, don’t fucking half-ass attempts at gaining celebrity, even if you expect to get nothing more than an interview with NBC and possibly your own reality show or a starring role in one already established – such as My Super Sweet Sixteen or Pimp My Balloon with out of work rapper XZibitBiscuit.

The Celebrity has manifested itself to the stage where it has found itself a new home to spread its shameless famewhoring seed; the everyday, runofthemill member of society. With access to new technologies such as cellphones, the Internet and…homemade balloons becoming increasingly easy to come by, even the most intellectually lacking members of society have a shot a becoming a bigshot. You only need to look at YouTube sensation failure Chris Crocker, AKA Tranny Mess – his self proclaimed ‘honest’ vlog about his borderline homicidal adoration for pop princess Britney Spears catapulted into the headlines of every media outlet imaginable.

Crocker is IRL batshit insane

This year has the been the year of famewhoring families, wherein it isn’t only one pathetic loser lusting for attention, it’s now becoming a family affair. First it was the Jolie lookalike and her multiple babies; for a while there her lackluster parenting skills and general failing at life garnered her some sweet, sweet paparazzo attention that she clearly needed like a maniacal cokehead did not want.

Then it was Mr. and Mrs. Jon and Kate Gosselin…(plus eight) and their turn to prove they deserved the fame more because they had more children. Granted, they at least received a reality show and John is still being raped hard by the bug of celebrity, but at the end of the day – irrelevancy is lapping at your breeding toes.

Jon thought Kate was refillable, like at Hungry Jacks

There seems to be a certain ‘grade’ in the celebrity food chain and once it is reached, be it a fallen A-lister or an average Joe, the resulting shenanigans by any and all can leave the rest of us feeling apathetic and/or extremely bemused by the individual trying desperately to cling  to that last icy rung on the fame ladder.

If you are a fledgling public figure or just….another Tara Reid, here are some tried and true ways in which you can keep your foot in the door:

1. Sex tape: Paris did it, now look where she is. Nearly thirty and still passing herself off as nineteen. She does movies too, you know. Did you know Mini-Me has a porno? Dude, I so want to see that shit.
2. Twitter: Get yourself a Twitter, get your dwindling followers to follow it and tweet your tits off. Even if you’re out of work, pretend you’re more successful than ever. When that next blockbuster starring YOU never eventuate, blame it on ‘scheduling conflicts’ or just say ‘the Director drugged me and raped me anally’.
3. Reality Show: Most celebrity based reality shows will accept anyone with at least a D minus level of The Celebrity. Even ex governors are giving the world of reality television a crack. Also, try and be naked as much as possible during filming.
4. If all else fails, just stand in the street outside your girlfriend’s house and accuse her of cheating. Also, it helps if you look like you’re on crack.

Remember, always ALWAYS tip off the media before pulling a publicity stunt. Or you could follow Britney Spears around if you’re really desperate for attention. Or you could kidnap Britney Spears, stick her (and yourself) in your home made air balloon, and rape her until she has more children than Jon and Kate.

TRIPLE. THREAT. BABAY.

Lady and the Vamp

Because I’m so nice and R-Patz looks particularly delicious, here is the brand spanking new official New Moon movie poster – the second novel in the Twilight saga to be given the cinematic treatment. Poor Bella, how does she cope? So much mancandy all at once is sure to make a girl ill.

Click the image below for a closeup of the gang doing their best *dramz* poses.

Photoshop Ahoy!

Moochas Gracias

$2000 on food, $1500 on utilities, $2800 on a nanny and $3000 for bodyguards.

This is how that piece of shit, mooching sonofabitchK-F(uck)ed spends the ‘allowance’ his ex-wife Britney Spears hands him over, every month. How he manages to splurge 2G’s on food in a one month period, and not suffer from an Eating Disorder, is utterly perplexing. Is crack and Jack Daniels included under ‘food’? What’s worse is K-F(uck) has the audacity to siphon cash from pop princess’s overflowing account to support his new trailer trash, chubby chaser, fuck friend –  a hillbilless who is so irrelevant, she wasn’t even given a name at birth. 

Mostly I want to slap Ms. Spears for being so naive and getting hitched with one of her backup dancers – that was bound to end in tears. At the same time it infuriates me that K-F(at) is allowed to remain unemployed (rap album wat?) and barely taking care of their two young children, but is still somehow entitled to receive a monthly alimony payout equivalent to a Mexican cleaning girl’s annual earnings rape hush money.

The Donut King and his fuck friend.

When does it become not okay for one half of a relationship to take, and give little or nothing in return? This isn’t the swinging sixties; it’s expected both men and women partake in the daily career grind, and contribute the earnings of said jobs in the event the two halves make that oh so dangerous leap into the scary thing commonly referred to as ‘moving in together’, or as I like to call it ‘You masturbated into my sock – not yours…you fucking douche‘. In my experience in sharing a roof with a significant other, arguments regarding money and who gives more of the shit, is 95% of why little domestic spats occur.

NEWSFLASH: This is not China. We aren’t all working in the same industry, earning the same keep…marrying the same women(!) One person is always going to earn more than the other, it’s an unavoidable evil. 

However if you find yourself unemployed it’s not okay to become emogh and sulk on the couch, watching Oprah reruns and eating frozen dim sims straight from the box, and expect your partner to continue to work (sometimes more) because you can’t be fucked motivating yourself down to the corner deli for a motherfucking newspaper. I don’t care if it’s *tehrecessionomg*, get an entry level position at Wendy’s if you have to. Just don’t be a K-F(ailure) and live out of anothers pocket.

Or if you really are made to mooch, then you better hope your Mammy is prepared to take you back – and wash your sperm socks.

Dis-appointed

What assets should one possess to catch the eye of Disney execs on the prowl for the next Britney, Vanessa or Miley? You’re pretty much guaranteed at least thirty minutes of fame if you manage to land a leading role on one of the many Disney Channel shows that are adored by the young and old, and in many cases – score your own clothing line/record deal/eerily true to life doll.

The most successful of the Disney darlings seem to share one (not so?) fatal flaw; a penchant for landing their pretty little heads in hot, hot water with some very public -very anti-Disney – paraphernalia splashed across every gossip blog and magazine stand imaginable. Disney damage control always manages to be on hand the second the shit hits the fan to sweep the scandal under Snow White’s rug. It would be naive to assume these series of unfortunate fuckups are purely incidental, so I am going to give credit where credit is due. The Disney corporation have created the perfect publicity stunt. 

Disney may not be directly responsible for the creation and subsequent ‘leak’ of said saucy photos, but they sure make no effort to vent any form of disapproval towards the girls who are supposed to represent the very specific Disney standard. That being being a triple threat, squeaky clean canvas on which Mickey Mouse and co. can weave their mogul magic on.

Soon to be former Disney employee, a one Miss Miley Cyrus, is the best example of good girl gone bad – at least since Britney lied about her (lack of) virginity. Cyrus has done it all; the photos (both leaked and official), the Youtube videos of her and the ‘bestie’ tearing her competition a new one and the latest scandal involving Miley and a much older boy friend.

'..she's just being Miley'

I’m no prude – FAR from it. But I believe absolutely in the preservation of innocence, especially for teenagers today who are growing up on the insidious thing we call the Internet. So when an empire that was created on the foundations of kindness and a respect for the fellow man allows itself to be tarnished by allowing these incidents to flourish for the sake of free publicity, it really grinds my gears.

Either stay true to Walt Disney’s vision or merge with MTV. Or Skinemax.