Tags: hollywood

blair witch

PEOPLE MAGAZINE: A Look Back

Ohhh-my-god, I'm currently in GOSSIP-HO HEAVEN thanks to The Complete PEOPLE MAGAZINE Archive.

PEOPLE came out when I was in my late teens. I distinctly remember buying the Very First Issue at Tower City (before it was even called Tower City) and reading it on the rapid transit on my way home from nursing school.

This was the issue--

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--and the stories inside included interviews with Patty Hearst's parents, Lee Harvey Oswald's widow, and William Peter Blatty whose novel The Exorcist had recently been made into a film that caused moviegoers to pass out, puke in the aisles, and--allegedly--have themselves voluntarily committed.

Looking back at these covers from the first year alone was like stepping into a time machine for me.

I remember when 12-year-old Ted Kennedy Jr. lost his leg from cancer:

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When 10-year-old Tatum O’Neal won an Oscar for Paper Moon:

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When Pat Nixon kept her mouth shut about her I-Am-Not-A-Crook hubby:

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When Mary Tyler Moore flipped her knit cap into the air every Saturday night at 9 p.m.:

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When Paul Newman anticipated his 50th birthday:

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When Burt Reynolds hooked up (gasp!) with the much-older Dinah Shore:

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When Cicely Tyson was the first black actor to win an Emmy for a "lead role in a miniseries or Movie" (The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman):

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When Prince Charles, at 25 (TWENTY-FRIGGING-FIVE!) was the World’s Most Eligible Bachelor (and never answered my love letters):

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Other 1974 covers announce that Raquel Welch is 33, Dustin Hoffman is 37, and Gloria Steinnem 40. Forty seemed ancient to me then. My parents were in their forties!

And Hugh Hefner, as you can see, probably had no need for Viagra even if it existed back then:

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The vast majority of the celebrities who graced that first year's cover, including John Wayne, Katharine Hepburn, Gerald Ford, Jackie O, Ari Onassis, Johnny Carson, Bing Crosby, Richard Burton, Charles Bronson, Rock Hudson, Telly Savalas, and Jack Lemmon have since passed away. Having subscribed to this gossip rag magazine for several decades now, I'm sorry I didn't hang onto these old issues.

Even if you're not a PEOPLE fan--check it out. :-)

Now, if you'll excuse, kiddies, I've gotta grab my cane and hobble over to the ice box for some prunes...
cartman stressed

Wondering...

Why is it, when you bite the inside of your lip, you're pretty much guaranteed to bite it a second time? In the SAME PLACE? Like, five minutes later?

I wonder why people like Madonna and Guy Ritchie bother to get married when everyone knows from the get-go it's not going to last much longer than my new and improved hair roots? Then I wonder, why bother with a divorce? Can't you just live in separate parts of your freaking mansion? Or in separate mansions altogether? Because I know you guys have more than one. How about separate mansions on separate continents?

Why is it so hard to get up early when you want to get up early and so hard to sleep late when you want to sleep late?

Why am I not surprised that I'm the only person in the U.S. with my name?


HowManyOfMe.com
LogoThere are
1
or fewer people with my name in the U.S.A.

How many have your name?



Oh, that was fun. I even checked out my characters: there are 9 Shawna Gallaghers, 32 Martha Kowalskis, and 5 Gina Brinkmans in the U.S. So weird to realize people are walking around with names you "thought" you made up. :)

Why am I talking about myself in the second person?

Why am I not loving the book I am reading when it's sold a gazillion copies, everyone raves about it, and the movie version is coming out next month? I'm sad about this. I'm "not connecting" with the story (good thing I wasn't a potential agent--I might be swinging by a rope about now). I keep waiting for that WOW moment and so far it hasn't hit me (I'm almost 1/4 of the way through it). I'll read more tonight and see what happens.
carol

Friday 5

ETA: HAHAHAHA! I am so hosed. I posted my Friday 5 today, and not because everyone ELSE is doing it--because I'm confused! I am leaving it as is. :)

1. I slept 14 hours last night. had a headache for 4 days. I took 4 Motrins 4 hrs ago. So far the headache is gone. "4" seems to be my number today. Now if I can just spend 4 hours writing...

2. I have a hair appointment at 5 (not 4) today. Goodbye, hillbilly roots!

Nikki’s hair is now chin-length, pale and smooth. And get a load of mine: tangled, overgrown, with an inch of dark roots. I should be standing in flip-flops in front of a trailer, roasting wienies over a rusty oil drum.

Like I said, I put everything in my stories.

3. I think when you're stuck in a hospital on a pysch ward, you should be allowed to eat whatever you want to eat. No special diets. Double portions, if you like. Unless you're a very brittle diabetic--which we rarely get--why NOT? High blood pressure? Big deal. Eating 2 hot dogs instead of one won't throw you into a stroke. These people are hungry, dammit! So what if you weigh 300 lbs? You're gonna go home and eat what you want anyway. What's with these low fat, low sodium diets and skimpy portions? I bet if we didn't force them to walk around hungry all day, their' moods would improve at least 50%.

Hey, if I have to be in "charge" of something--why can't I be in charge of this?

4. I've been bounced off AOL at least 10 (not 4) times in the past 2 (not 4) hrs. It's not even raining outside. Gray, breezy, cool, but dry.

5. I see Ryan and Redmond O'Neal were officially charged with possession of methamphetamines and...PEPPER SPRAY?

Wait! *I* have pepper spray, attached to my key fob. I work in the ghetto, for God's sake. I walk to my car in the dark. Since when is pepper spray against the law??? (I bought it at True Value Hardware) Or is this only in California?

Fine. Arrest me. Publicity rocks!
tea cup lady

Hollywood Bonehead of the Week

Barbara Walter's interview with Peter Cook/Commentary by your neighborhood Hollywood gossip ho(stess).

"I was seeking a connection I could not find in my own marriage (to Christy Brinkley)."

And all you got was a measley $ 2.1 mil in the divorce settlement, much of which undoubtedly padded your lawyer's pockets. I'm guessing you're a bit miffed about that.

"I think the emotional aspect of our lives had changed."

Because that, of course, NEVER happens in real marriages. Oh, poor you, boo-hoo.

"I think we were both feeling more like we were living with a brother and sister than a life partner."

So you fooled around with a 18-year-old kid and then paid her off with $300,000?

"I think I just suddenly realized when I was getting attention from someone else..." (a barely legal teenager) "...that this is something that is missing in my life."

Something that wasn't fulfilled by your $3,000 a month internet pornography addiction? Something like a brain? Morals? Common sense?  Seriously, dude. THREE GRAND A MONTH ON DIRTY PICTURES???

"My hope is that the world will see that I'm not the scum bag pervert that I've been painted to be."

Whoops! Too late.
scarecrow

Hollywood Bonehead of the Week

Sixty-seven-year-old actor Ryan O'Neil was busted for possession of meth in Los Angeles County.

"The police search was related to (son) Redmond's probation. He was arrested last year in Malibu on charges related to possession of heroin and meth while driving under the influence."

You know what they say about apples and trees.

Ryan, Ryan, Ryan. Why meth? Don't you know what that does to you? It fries your brain. It rots your teeth and makes you break out in disgusting, dripping sores. It makes you look OLD!

Oh, wait. You are old.

Sixty-seven...and (allegedly) on meth. Puh-LEEEEZE!

(last post of the day, I swear)
kenny

HA!

The Rules:
Take a picture of yourself right now.
Don't change your clothes, don't fix your hair...just take a picture.
Post that picture with NO editing.
Post these instructions with your picture.

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Hollywood Bonehead of the Week

"Mary-Kate Olsen was never interviewed by police regarding her involvement in the death of actor Heath Ledger--" Gee, why IS that?"--despite the fact that Ledger's masseuse bizarrely alerted Olsen of Ledger's lifeless body before she called the police--" Picture the masseuse: "Heath! Heath! Oh my GOD, what do I do? Start CPR? Call 911? No, wait! I got it! I'll call MARY-KATE OLSEN!"--and the fact that Olsen's bodyguards may have arrived at Ledger's apartment--" Leaving her unguarded? Oh, my! "--three minutes before paramedics did. Now, the New York Post reports that federal drug agents are trying to get Olsen to cooperate in their investigation into how Ledger managed to finagle a bottle of the painkiller Oxycotin—also known as "hillbilly heroin--" Kind of offensive to hillbillies, don't you think? "--but that Olsen is refusing to talk unless she's granted immunity from prosecution." http://www.radaronline.com/exclusives/2008/08/marykate-olsen-demands-immunity.php 

She sent her bodyguards? What did she say to them? "Heath's dead! Get over there fast and make sure there aren't any bottles of hillbilly heroin with my name on them!"?

Immunity, my left buttcheek. I mean, can you see ME saying to the police: "Yes, I know my good friend overdosed, and I know they called me first, and no, I didn't go over there or call 9-1-1--but I *did* send my bodyguards and with all due respect it's none of your business why I sent them. And yes, I know you think I'm the one who gave him the oxycontin--but I'm not going to answer your nosy questions unless you promise not to prosecute me for, well, whatever you think I did, which I'm denying anyway. Nyah, nyah!" ?

Will the cops say to me, "Oh, okay. Well, let's talk about this some more, see if we can come up with a compromise..." ?

No. The cops say to me: "Jen, meet Miz Bubba. Lights out, here's a blanket, enjoy your stay."
 
scarecrow

Hollywood Buffoon of the Week

82-year-old Jerry Lewis was cited for trying to carry a gun onto a plane. He said the gun was "hollowed out" and couldn't be fired and that he only used it as a "prop" for some of his shows (the fact that he even does shows anymore was news to me). The authorities disagreed with the "prop" business and said if that were the case Lewis wouldn't have been cited.

Wait! If kids can't take toy guns to school, then why would people be allowed to take toy guns onto a plane?

Regardless--what a dumbass! 82-fricking-years-old and he STILL hasn't learned the "rules"?

Carnie Wilson and Fat Thoughts

How do you know when it's time to go on a diet? When you step on a scale and realize you're 10 or 20 pounds heavier than you were last time?

When not a single article of clothing fits you anymore? And do you (a) wait till you're busting out of your regular clothes, or (b) busting out of the "fat clothes" you should've thrown out the last time you lost weight?

When your beloved jokingly refers to you as "Chunkabutt"? Okay, I didn't kill him cuz it's a pretty funny term. Besides, we've been lovingly insulting each other for 30 years. Why stop now?

As someone who's battled a weight problem my entire adult life (I was once a size 20) I am not entirely without compassion when it comes to Carnie Wilson. Losing weight is hard. Keeping it off is worse and you gotta work at it...like every day for the rest of your life.

But to weigh over 300 pounds, undergo major and potentially dangerous surgery (I wonder if people realize the risk they're taking when they undergo a gastric bypass; you can have horrendous complications and yes, even die) and drop down to an amazing 146 lbs, and yes, look terrific--and then allow your weight to creep back up to 208? Don't you see this coming? It's not like you wake up one day and you're suddenly 60 lbs heavier. Carnie: Hello, do you even own a scale?

This is what I totally don't get: OK, say you weigh 146. One day you weigh yourself and see you're up to 150, or 160, or even 170 (which is pushing because, dude, that doesn't happen overnight). Shouldn't that be the time to take some action? I mean, clearly your clothes don't fit anymore.

So now Carnie's all over the media again, announcing she's on a diet and *gasp* dropped 15 lbs, never mind that she already risked her life under the knife and you'd think that alone would make her more cautious that the average person.

This may sound funny coming from a nurse--who does not believe all overweight people are unhealthy--but I have a lot more respect for people who, yes, are fat, they know they're fat, and they're perfect happy that way. Who wants to spend your entire life worrying about every single bite of food you put in your mouth? Who wants to live that way? If you're destined to be fat, as some people may be, then just be fat and be happy and shut up about it already. And if you don't want to gain all that poundage back, then spring for a bathroom scale and try getting on it once in a while.

BTW, anyone else notice that the cutest clothes in the world are designed for either very tiny women, i.e. size 0 to 6, or for larger women, sizes greater than 20? I am dead serious about this. If you're "average" sized (and you live in Ohio, anyway) you're screwed in the fashion department (not that I can say "Ohio" and "fashion" in the same sentence and keep a straight face). I can't tell you how many times I've breezed through a department store and squealed to a halt at the sight of something absolutely stunning--only to find out the smallest size is a 2X.

Any thoughts?