the 941

This roundup’s been idling in the blog machine for days, and we still can’t fix the formatting, so here goes the [Stop] route. Our apologies. [Stop]

A day to defeat the video game, a lifetime to live down the shame. [Stop] Big ups to web traffic! [Stop] Jessica Simpson to stump for beer. A light beer. Substance-less, in fact. Yep, that sounds about right. [Stop] Winehouse back to rehab-Blake redux. Again. Once more. [Stop] Dave Matthews’ sax player LeRoi Moore, dead at 46. RIP. [Stop] Hasbro’s Clue circa ‘08: The butler did it, in the bathroom at Koi, with the knife seen in those scandalous pics with Lindsay Lohan. And don’t forget the super powers. [Stop] Not content to live la vida loca with one bambino, Ricky Martin does dos at once. [Stop] Forbes reveals the hip hoppers living largest. (Guess which money-monikered rapper?) [Stop] The New York Post has no love for our Cous Cous. That’s okay, we have plenty. [Stop] Bleep, meet the new bleeping bleep. Really bleeping funny, you bleeper. 

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First things first: Somebody’s getting it…

David Beckham, The Musical. Tee hee, they said “Goldenballs.”

Phelps’ pop culture domination begins/continues.

Kellogg’s trumps Wheaties for Phelps promo gold: Ahhh, snap!

Phelps’ backlash begins/continues.

“Fierce, flawless and fabulous” mommas-to-be: Christian Siriano to design for the preggers set. Next up, haute baby messes.

Just in time for the first week back: The economy cuts class.

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P. Hilton sued for shutting the flip up. Isn’t that a sign of the apocalypse? All of that?

P. Diddy should be sued for not shutting the flip up.

Aw, we heart you, comeback Britz: You can take the country out of the girl, but…

Elvis and Priscilla Barbie dolls. They’re right about the plastic Priscilla thing, just waaaaay early. (Now where’s our matching Graceland Barbie Dreamhouse?)

Uncle Joey finally talks about that song. You oughta know what we’re talking about.

The Chupacabra does exist, and this proves it. Really?

Bigfoot, too, though alive? Not so much.

Another broken record for Phelps, another broken ratings record for NBC.

“John Edwards in a onesie.” Gadzooks.

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The Bard’s original theater un-buried.

To catch you up, and it IS worth doing… Anderson Cooper vs. the Lohans, Part 1. (While we’re at it, our take.)

Part 2: Dina Dearest fires back.

Part 3: Andy responds. Ah, SNAP!

C’mon. Is this yawn-worthy report of Winehouse-induced yawns only an across-the-pond yawn? [Yawn.]

First Diddy pimps a booze, now Dre (to coincide with his Detox album, natch). Who’s next? Amy Winehouse? Yawn.

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The one guaranteed sanctuary from interwebs-related work is gone.

There’s no such thing as confidential medical records at UCLA.

The Batman passes $400 million.

Can we really call anything Tyra does only “vaguely unsettling” at this point in time?

Somebody punch this DJ in the face. Now.

While you’re at it, knock this tool out, too — with a footlong or otherwise.

Post face punch, we have the technology to build/make you all better. Just ask Madge.

Kelsey Grammer out of the hospital — again. Doc’s orders: More tossed salads, fewer scrambled eggs. C’mon, we had to use it — again.

Gawker does a fine color commentary on political family portraits.

Lord of the Dweebs Shires one on in Oregon. At least, until the Hobbitat met with foreclosure.

As we stare at the erroneously deemed “emerald” Rizpoc structure outside our office, 15 examples of truly “green” buildings.

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It was only a changeover from Hancock to The Batman movie, but…

Defamer offers a fine point-counterpoint regarding the GOP.

Also courtesy of Defamer: The Audible Laugh Inducing Headline of the Day. (This runs a close second. And, this one, too. Em, here too. Yeah. And this one. Aw Christ, we give up.)

Um kay, Pammy. You go right on ahead there and “build” you a hotel. An eco-friendly one. In Abu Dhabi. It totally took you long enough.

Xenu’s real pissed, and Tom’s lawyers have already been retained.

Separating the sexes, one pet at a time. That oughta take care of it. Boneheads.

Boneheads, part two (Hint: Wal-Mart is involved.)

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With Bennigans gone, here’s a real bombshell.

“My genes made me not do it, wah wah wah!” Another excuse to not get off your lazy ass.

Forthwith, ergo, and such as. Defamer sentences George Lucas.

Where have all the trainwrecks gone? Don’t you fret, paparazzi skeezeballs, there’s always Winehouse (though, with airline prices these days…)

Is nothing sacred? Dunkin’ Donuts goes healthy.

We repeat: Is nothing sacred?

Fatness starts young. And with Pop Tarts. So, we’ll just market them to adults. Genius!

Starbucks going under Down Under. (We’d say “g’day, mate,” but… ooooh.)

We really don’t know what to make of this, save one word: Goot! Goot! Goot!

Today in Biting the Hand. Biting. The Hand.

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Even Extreme Makeover recipients aren’t immune to the foreclosure crisis…

The earth moved in a sizable, seismic way. Here’s hoping our west coast friends are okay.

Winehouse in the hospital. Winehouse out of the hospital. Rinse, and repeat.

Hallmark and Fox team up for, um, blockbuster greeting cards with no substance and shark-jumping special effects.

“Two tickets to the gun show?” Or just this instead?

Speaking of which, “Hey Laaaaadies!” Jerry busted for packin’ heat.

Starbucks — More cuts in coffee town. Those without jobs? Likely as bitter as the brew itself.

If only Starbucks had implemented their “appreciation beanbag toss.” ‘Cause, you know, it’s all about “appreciation.” And, tossing tossers.

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Shut up, Screech. Don’t make us get all A.C. Slater on your ass (we don’t really know what that means).

The Batman on the toilet. And yet still, we swoon…

Ouchy ouch. Ouch. OWWWWW.

Matt LeBlanc to manager: How YOU doin’? No, really.

We loves us some Chelsea Handler, but we wish she would’ve been harder on this jerk. Like, punch him in the face or something.

Maybe this is just because people deliberately aren’t buying the paper, but…

For all you chicken feces out there, a less painful way (for you) to dump someone. (Don’t bother with the “It’s better than by text” defense, ya douchenozzle.)

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