the 941

Whatever floats your boat

If you would like to live out your DiCaprio meets Winslet fantasies today you may want to head over to G. WIZ and check out Titanic: The Artifact Exhibition. The exhibit features real artifacts found on the ocean floor from the famous 1912 shipwreck and focuses on the human stories behind the 2,228 passengers that were on board. The exhibition has been viewed by 20 million people worldwide and includes re-created cabins, an iceberg display and a number of authentic artifacts. You even receive a replica boarding pass of a Titanic passenger when you enter the exhibit. How cool is that? That’s iceberg cool.

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Here.

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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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Funny: We always think “sleeping on it” is the way to go.

A Martha Stewart parody show = A very good thing.

Heroes star Hayden: She’s just a cheerleader, and her folks are only human. Or something.

The Batman, still on top.

Aw-right, aw-right, aw-right, aw-right. McConaugHAAAY talks fatherhood. And placentas.

Olympics opening ceremony scores ratings gold. Yeah, that was a weak one, we admit. It’s Monday.

(more…)

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Cheetos = Crime solving in Minnesota.

Girl-skewing Disney Channel to court the little boys. So many jokes we could make here, but, since it’s Friday, make your own.

The man CL likes to call The Baboon is a hurtin’ real hard. Break out the Kleenex.

On that note, buy those holiday airline tickets now.

Still more signs of a limp, flaccid economy.

Jewel yodels her way down the aisle. Ah, Jewel… remember this? Priceless.

Kanye: Egomaniac, psychotic blogger, media mogul, defender of the Gays.

Speaking of which, ahem, Mr. T…

Jimmy Cameron on his new techno geek-out: 60% CGI, 40% live action, 110% “A woman’s heart is a deep ocean of secrets” dialogue doodie.

(more…)

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First, it was PBR. Now, The Return of Schlitz.

Six degrees of separation, yes. But six degrees of e-Kevin Bacon? The jury’s still out on that one.

Jet Blue to charge 7 bucks for a binkie and a pillow. Let’s hope they’re clean.

Mickey D’s re-evaluating that whole Dollar Menu. ‘Cause you can never put too high a price on “cheese food/product.”

Playgirl going web only. Where’s the quid pro quo, boys? Mouse hand already pre-occupied?

Morgan Freeman injured in car crash. A very graceful, dignified car crash. (Get well, and soon.)

Speaking of getting better, best wishes to the ailing Bernie Mac.

Mainstream media not benefiting as much as you’d think from election coverage. We, like everyone else, blame Katie Couric.

The UK’s Guardian says “lad mags” are responsible for the decline of western civilization. Funny, we blame Katie for this, too.

It was only a matter of time: The Dark Knight backlash. (Again, we blame…. nah, just kiddin’. [wink])

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A giant statue of a penis, a naked man suspended from a harness. The St. Petersburg police have arrested those responsible, protecting ordinary citizens from the grotesque and freakish sight of male genitalia.

The owner of Erotic Lounge art gallery has closed his business (thank the gods!), but will instead focus his efforts on suing the St. Penisburg — sorry, Petersburg — police. I hope the department is not distracted from this lawsuit by any violent crimes.

The offending sculpture is available on eBay. It’s made of wood, so we recommend that anyone with a few hundred extra dollars purchase it quickly and douse it with kerosene.

Let’s face it: People look like mutants with their clothes off. Ropy, uncontrollable appendages, wounds that never heal. God created us in his own image, but the devil stole in while our bodies were cooling and gave us the mutilations of demons. Lest that madness take over, we must never expose our viler parts except in darkness or in the holy light of an X-ray machine.

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Box office numbers are in, and it’s official. Nothing can derail the Batman from taking over the world. (And that smarmy weasel James Cameron’s soon-to-be-history old B.O. record.)

Of all the states, this makes sense, no? Cali’s the first to go trans-fat free.

Really? Really. Really? You guys make us wanna punch babies. Your babies.

Well, this is certainly one way to burn a bridge.

Whoa. That is all. Just. Whoa. (more…)

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Arts writer Amanda Schurr and I were discussing the new JC Penney commercial that riffs off The Breakfast Club. These are the days when advertisers, filmmakers, radio programmers, basically all producers of media, are trying to cash in on Gen X nostalgia.

At 32, Amanda is a tweenie, an XY-er if you will (She does have a strong handshake, come to think of it. Jk, Amanda, don’t beat me.). But born in 1985, I landed soundly in Generation Y, or the Millienial Generation. “I wonder,” I said to Amanda, “where people will mine for nostalgia when my generation is the consumer class.”

So we bring you the beginnings of a collaborative list: movies, music and TV shows that molded the impressionable adolescent minds of my generation. Our lower bound for release dates is the year 2000, when I and others born in the Year of the Ox were learning to drive. In homage to High Fidelity, we deliver our lists in chunks of five. Note that these aren’t necessarily the best releases, just culture shapers. A qualifying candidate either affected American behavior on a large scale or altered the course of its medium. First are my lists, with Amanda’s to follow: (more…)

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a TV series about us boobs.

Variety reports of a new small screen “workplace comedy” in the script stage at ABC. Entitled The Weekly, it’s set “in the office of a dishy alternative weekly publication and blog.”

The Association of Alt Newsweeklies first weighed in…

Then the Salt Lake City Weekly: Bill Frost, among others, alleges theft of his own treatment.

And Mark Athitakis, a writer with CL sister paper, the Washington City Paper, offered his two cents…

There’s much to be said regarding this self-serving (?) development, but we’ll keep it brief and ask:

1. “Dishy”?

2. So what are the chances of survival, then? Cancelled after a week?

(We see ourselves — read: me — portrayed by Selma Blair, but she’s already got a TV gig going, so…)

(And Joe Bardi could be portrayed by Jon Lovitz, but that’s perhaps best suited for a spinoff… And we digress, which is to say, what we do on an hourly basis anyway…)

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