Please dear god let this be false, untrue, and wrong... If not, it could well be one of the most uncool images you've ever seen.
According to Holy Moly (who are pretty much always on the mark) this is the lovely Tila Tequila in mourning for her recently dead fiance Casey Johnson... Yes that's right, in mourning!!!
We remember JSJ's recent post about her twattish twitter regarding paparazzi outside her house ("OMG OMG OMG!!" - No!... bad Tila!), but now it seems she's nipped out of the house to do a lovely impromptu photo shoot in the garden.
I've never been described by anyone ever as having any discernible moral compass, but even I'm balking at this one. Everyone deals with grief in their own way but climbing a tree in hotpants (seriously, go look) does appear to be a tad beyond the pale.
It's like if the Jacksons tried to instantly get a world tour going off the back of Michael's Death.
Fingers crossed it's just old photos that have been sold as yesterday's. I wouldn't bet on it though.
I'm hoping guessing tomorrow she'll go and wash the hearse in a soapy white top and pigtails.
Morally bankrupt and underdressed... my kinda girl.
...because since I found this on Urlesque I've got more than enough for everyone. Way more. I'm drowning in a disused and partially covered septic tank of happy.
If I had any more happy in me right now, the bottom half of me may very well prolapse, leaving my previously grumpy shoes glimmering in a sickening Rainbow Brite style colourway of joy.
And all this is because of a lonely Japanese guy in a bandanna and briefs.
He cares not what you think of him, he cares only for dance. Are you dance? No? Well then, you are low on his list of priorities. Regardless, he still wishes you to enjoy an all inclusive holiday in Rhythm Nation.
This year was meant to be brilliant and wonderful, now less than a week in I find out it's already turned to hell.
Hayden Panettiere, the pint-sized reason I have to watch Heroes, my future wife, and the as-yet-unknowing mother of my first son Trent is apparently going out with some great big piece of fighting fury from Russia.
She's barely hitting five foot... he's six foot six... she'll never be the same again.
Dammit! When she was going out with the Milo chappy I still knew I was fine in the trouser department, but now with Wladimir Klitschko on the scene I'm sweating the wedding night a little more. Damned Russians.
My only hope is that perhaps she actually has that ability to regenerate, healing any and all wounds no matter how brutal. If not it could end up feeling like you're having your way with a World of Wonder Snuggie.
In other news; Her dad can't look her in the eye anymore.
Sting got served last night by Jeremy Paxman on popular BBC news chat-type show Newsnight.
The Police frontman was on the show to talk about a controversial hydroelectric dam project in Brazil that is threatening the rainforest and its inhabitants.
That might be all well and good but foolishly he appeared with twattish bushy beard and smelly looking shirt that you could see his chest through.
Paxman, the brilliant pitbull bastard that he is, suffered the usual celeb-talking-political-twaddle for a wee bit before asking the blinding question, "Do you ever feel uncomfortable traveling between your various houses in various continents at enormous carbon cost?"
The tantric one then responded that it's not fair to blame celebrities for environmental crises like this... Paxman simply informed him that he's not being blamed... just being accused of being a massive hypocrite.
Every breath he takes, ever move he makes, Paxman f*cks him in the face. Watch it HERE if you can.
Totally cool with the rainforest, just don't want to hear it from a man in faux-dirty clothes.
Scientists at the University of Utah have recently confirmed my sneaking suspicions that this whole "environmental" malarky is all a bit too much of an effort. In fact, they've gone on to say that basically we're all fucked and we can't do much apart from revert back to hunter gatherers and wander around forests covered in our own poo.
Tim Garrett, an associate professor of atmospheric sciences says in his new paper released last month that "stabilization of carbon dioxide emissions at current rates will require approximately 300 gigawatts of new non-carbon-dioxide-emitting power production capacity annually – approximately one new nuclear power plant (or equivalent) per day." Garrett says, "Physically, there are no other options without killing the economy."
Ha! He thinks the economy isn't dead... silly bofffin.
At the heart of this research is the concept that civilization is like a "heat engine" and that conserving energy doesn't reduce energy use, but spurs economic growth and more energy use. "Making civilization more energy efficient simply allows it to grow faster and consume more energy."
To be fair, I'm paraphrasing and the outlook isn't quite that bleak. Interesting stuff, though, and well worth a read if only to play a brutal hand of Devil's Advocate at your next vegan dinner party. I'm off to smash open some fridges, warm up the world, and get my bronze on. Nothing cheers me up like a good tan.
The great thing about YouTube is that there are so many videos hidden away, virtually undiscovered, that kick unimaginable ass.
And then one day someone spots it, realizes the potential and sends it to friends with the proper hype it deserves.
Since I got sent this the other day, I've sent it to everyone I know, people I don't, I've even joined obscure message boards to fully push the brilliance (the Cocker Spaniel Breeders club of Great Britain just didn't understand).
Regardless, play this and soak up the madness that can only result when some freak jams a love for cargo trains and '80s German cock-rock together in four-and-a-half-minutes-worth of gold (utter bizarre-larity).
Since this was first uploaded two years ago, I'm assuming the creator is now securely locked away for masturbating on a tramline somewhere.
Try anything once, I suppose. Except meringue... I wish I'd never tried that.
Rocky and Balls have a new ukelele tune as a follow-up to the beard song and this one is dedicated to their gay mates. Bless.
It's short and sweet, a little smug, but otherwise fine.
I hate when people on the Internet start talking about their "fans." If you record in your room then you don't have fans, you have weirdos who watch you in dark rooms covered in cocoa butter. Luckily the uke player Sophie is astoundingly cute, so that saves the day on my end. I want her for Christmas (see fans explanation).
Or some trainers, you can never have enough shoes.
Makes me want to take a road trip, god I love road trips. If anyone is taking a massive road trip across America please let me know and I'd be glad to pop over the water and do my share of the driving... and stimulants.
Gratuitous tit shot merely to protect my street cred (which currently lies in tatters).
Rip those curtains down and get the sewing machine out, Julie Andrews is planning a return to London and heading back to the stage!
Seriously, my mum is going to have fucking kittens.
After her voice was ruined in a botched 1997 throat surgery, Andrews, 74, had said that she could emit only “a kind of fried sound.”
Being a great fan of her work but also of tasty bacon, that pretty much ticks all my boxes. Fans who were only in it for the songs, however, had to resign themselves to never hearing her sing her hits again.
But apparently she's all fixed now and good to go! Last year, she surprised Broadway audiences by singing four solo songs on her "hosted by Julie Andrews" shows and now she's headed back to London and headlining the O2 arena for a one-night-only affair.
So in respect for J-lie from my Block, in all her glory, turn the speakers up and join me in a quick round. Seriously, I'm living in Joyville.
Drugs debate is in full swing today after the sacking last week of Professor David Nutt, the British government's top drugs adviser.
Over the weekend, two of Professor Nutt's colleagues have jacked in their positions on the country's drugs advisory panel after realizing it didn't matter a damn what they advised, and that they were just meant to toe the party line.
Last week Prof. Nutt caused a bit of a stir after saying that Ecstasy and LSD were less harmful than alcohol and cigarettes, also twice as fun to watch fireworks on.
He didn't say that last bit, but he knows I'm right.
I digress...What started off as a great day for wasters has ended up being a pretty worrying glance inside top level government. Essentially that government advisers are great as long as they advise the position prescribed by the party, which is one worked out by people who have no knowledge of the actual freakin' science.
Regardless... headlines with the words "Nutt Sacked" in them... frigging hilarious!
Seriously, "Nutt Sacked"... c'mon... like balls, but it's his name....