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June 18, 2007 |
Los Angeles, CA Junior Bacon Hilton is seen here exiting the detention center and getting mentally psyched up for a new career as a nineteenth century pub boxer. he early run of hotel heiress and all around well respected young lady Paris Hitonâs highly-anticipated new series The Simple Life: Century Regional Detention Center hit an unexpected blip this week, with Hilton walking off the set of this groundbreaking new creative enterprise. A Hitlon spokesperson cited âcreative differencesâ between Hilton and the detention center officials who are producing the show in conjunction with the Los Angeles County courts.
âWhen I heard the courts had ordered 23 episodes, I knew this was going to be a big hit,â explained media buttsniff Margo Philsbury. âTalk about a fish out of water! Previous seasons of The Simple Life really failed to go for the gusto like this one did. I mean, Paris Hilton? In jail? Can you just imagi...
he early run of hotel heiress and all around well respected young lady Paris Hitonâs highly-anticipated new series The Simple Life: Century Regional Detention Center hit an unexpected blip this week, with Hilton walking off the set of this groundbreaking new creative enterprise. A Hitlon spokesperson cited âcreative differencesâ between Hilton and the detention center officials who are producing the show in conjunction with the Los Angeles County courts. âWhen I heard the courts had ordered 23 episodes, I knew this was going to be a big hit,â explained media buttsniff Margo Philsbury. âTalk about a fish out of water! Previous seasons of The Simple Life really failed to go for the gusto like this one did. I mean, Paris Hilton? In jail? Can you just imagine it?â âCâmon, sheâs so pretty. Sheâs like a princess,â explained Sheriff Lee Baca, who facilitated Hiltonâs temporary departure from the show. âOr whatever they call it. Hostess? Heiress? Celebutante? Is that a real world now? You donât put people like that in jail. Then all the kids would want to go to jail, theyâd be skateboarding in public and carjacking and shit just to get in and live the glamorous life of an inmate like Miss Hilton.â The publicâs anticipation of the new series was sky-high leading up to its June 3rd debut, with MTV Video Awards host Sarah Silverman devoting a sizeable portion of her opening monologue to wishing the hotel heiress well in her latest endeavor. Audience members, however, couldnât tell if Silverman was being ironic or post-ironic, also known as âsincere.â Meanwhile, rumors abounded that Simple Life co-star Nicole Richie was working on a heroin possession deal to possibly continue the series without Hiltonâs involvement. âI heard they wanted Paris to eat this grody food, like she was in prison or something,â jawed Hilton friend and fellow What-The-Fuck-Are-You-Famous-For celebrity Richie. âAnd she was like âno wayâ and they were like âyou weigh 75 pounds, youâre gonna die if you donât eatâ and she was like âIâd rather die than eat chicken fried steak, gross!â and they were like âokay you can go home.ââ Hilton had landed the deal for the new series after wowing audiences with her performance last September, when a drunken Hilton was pulled over for weaving like an African-American hairdresser and reportedly told the police it was only because all sheâd had for dinner was a martini. Other guest appearances in January and February cemented her position as Americaâs favorite excuse to not pay attention to Iraq, leading to a new deal for the showâs unexpected sixth season. Hotel maids, restaurant owners and taxi cab drivers alike applauded the move, hoping it would mean Hilton would stop pissing everywhere. Disaster was averted on Friday, when Hilton acceded to the producersâ demands that she honor her contract, returning to the set in a spirited mood, boisterously vocal about her enthusiasm for the project. The showâs production was immediately resumed, thrilling fans of lesbian shower scenes and mind-numbing rot the world over. the commune news is not responsible for Paris Hilton. the commune news is not responsible for Paris Hilton. the commune news is not responsible for Paris Hilton. Ivana Folger-Balzac could teach the heiress a thing or two about avoiding jail time, but still lags a distant third to Hilton and that chick who invented the headache excuse among the nationâs most-hated women. Give it a year though, we here at the commune really believe in Ivana.
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British Nearly Affected by London Terror Attacks ith their famously stoic façade put to the ultimate test, Londoners came through with flying colors this week, failing to register the slightest emotion in the face of stunning terror attacks on the citys mass transit system that left 50 dead and over 700 wounded. Oh yes, it was quite a mess, explained commuter Harold Alburn, who was aboard one of the bombed subway trains and only survived due to being caked in a human cocoon formed by the flaming remains of his fellow passengers. That rail lines going to be down for weeks, you have to assume. Jackson Prosecution Produces Bloody Glove he Michael Jackson trial escalated to the seventh level of hooplah Friday as prosecutors introduced into evidence a bloody sequined gloved that had not been previously revealed publicly. The defense requested a recess, to which the witty judge replied that no one had been good enough to deserve recess, but they would take a brief break. It gave the Jackson defense, led by attorney and Warhol knock-off Thomas Mesereau, a chance to recover from the five-fingered blow. Blond Highlights the Devils Work, Says Iran, Straight Men Dow Reaches 13,000, Tao Reaches ∞ |
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 January 6, 2003
The AuditionWish me luck, keep your fingers crossed, and break both your legs. Clarissa Coleman is all lined up for a big audition.
I don't usually tell you about auditions, I know. I like to keep some secrecy, some little things private to myself. That and I forget about them until the last minute most of the time. But this is different. This is no piddlin' "Hey, Remember the Songs of the '80s?" infomercial audition. This is a series television audition, no kidding. Real network TV! Well, UPN, and that counts as network TV in a few circles outside of Hollywood. But I'm excited all the same.
I was sitting around on New Year's Day, trying to figure out whose underwear I was wearing and how I got a hold of them, when my agent Dusty called. Usually it's not good news, he just wants to talk about the World's Fair of 1967 and what a grand time it was, that or how I still owe dues from 1989 to the SAG, but today was different. He had a part for me to read, a real live part!
I was skeptical, at first, who wouldn't be? But I checked, and the phone was indeed plugged in, and none of my commune office mates was hiding in the room. Not a camera in sight even. It really was Dusty, and once I verified he wasn't having another "living flashback" to the '80s, I would be on cloud nine.
Sure enough, the audition was real. It turns out a sitcom producer named Matt Viggoschultz was a big fan of my Court-TV appearances where I denied knowing anything...
º Last Column: I Want to Be a Cartoon º more columns
Wish me luck, keep your fingers crossed, and break both your legs. Clarissa Coleman is all lined up for a big audition.
I don't usually tell you about auditions, I know. I like to keep some secrecy, some little things private to myself. That and I forget about them until the last minute most of the time. But this is different. This is no piddlin' "Hey, Remember the Songs of the '80s?" infomercial audition. This is a series television audition, no kidding. Real network TV! Well, UPN, and that counts as network TV in a few circles outside of Hollywood. But I'm excited all the same.
I was sitting around on New Year's Day, trying to figure out whose underwear I was wearing and how I got a hold of them, when my agent Dusty called. Usually it's not good news, he just wants to talk about the World's Fair of 1967 and what a grand time it was, that or how I still owe dues from 1989 to the SAG, but today was different. He had a part for me to read, a real live part!
I was skeptical, at first, who wouldn't be? But I checked, and the phone was indeed plugged in, and none of my commune office mates was hiding in the room. Not a camera in sight even. It really was Dusty, and once I verified he wasn't having another "living flashback" to the '80s, I would be on cloud nine.
Sure enough, the audition was real. It turns out a sitcom producer named Matt Viggoschultz was a big fan of my Court-TV appearances where I denied knowing anything about those injuries related to the Waffle Messiah, and wanted to know if I was working. Well, sure, if you count picketing E!'s Star Dates show with a sign that says, "First Date Action Guaranteed," but nothing that couldn't be dropped quickly for a rebound shot at television! He mailed (industry term for sending through the postal service) a copy of the pilot script for his show and I loved it! The binding was shiny and the font they used was original and clever. After I read it, it got even better.
It's a Friends-style show, with a little bit of Survivor mixed in, with a touch of Dragnet to make it work. In the pilot episode, a group of chums get shipwrecked on a desert island paradise, where they have to overcome their differences and learn to trust each other to survive the harsh environment. One of them is voted in as the tribal lawman, and when one of the buddies is murdered, the lawman has to solve the murder.
I knew it would be an effort to play this kind of role each week and make it believable, having never been stranded on a desert island where I played the role of law enforcer before, but I was determined to be a part of this project, no matter what I had to do. Producer Viggoschultz then informed me he wanted me for the lawman's sidekick, his girl Friday Shelly, which is a smaller role, yeah, but one I'm definitely more fit for. It's a shame, though, that beard was starting to come in pretty nice before he told me.
I was meant to play this role of Shelly, and nothing will stop me from playing her, short of not getting the part. Which is why I've been rehearsing my monologue all week. In the past I've always used the same piece for auditions, but it's never worked out for meâI think I'm just getting too old to do the "I want a give the world a gweat big hug!" bit from Who's Your Daddy? that I used for years. This year I'm using Susan Sarandon's "boycott G.E." Oscar speech, and if they look like an apolitical crowd I'll just use Halle Berry's three minutes of crying Oscar speech. Either way, I'm getting this role. 2003 is going to be the year of the comeback for Clarissa Coleman. º Last Column: I Want to Be a Cartoonº more columns
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|  October 10, 2005
It's About Time I Won SomethingUpon receiving this award, I have this prepared speech for you. Believe me, it's worth your time.
Ladies and gentleman who picked me, I have to say thank you. But I suppose I should really be thanking me. I'm the one who's put in the hard work and done everything possible just so I could be me. Do you think it's easy? For me it is. For anyone else, it could be really difficult, but for me, it comes naturally.
All I can really say upon receiving this terrific recognition is: it's about time. Other people get rewards for doing nothing, easy stuff like acting or hitting a baseball. That stuff isn't hard. I can hit a rock with a baseball bat, and I'm talking about small rocks. Baseballs are bigger than that. If I really wanted to, I suppose I could play baseball for a living and get rewards every day. It doesn't look all that hard. But I'm happy with the telemarketing job because I get Fridays off.
I'm not sure why it took you so long to get around to giving me somethingâI'm not doing your job, although I'm betting I could if I wanted to. I might shock you to say this, but I've never won anything in my life. Nothing. Not an award, not a medal, not a video game or game of bowling. Some people might think they lacked the ability to do something great, but I know it's just because I didn't really want it bad enough whenever I didn't win. Someone great once said, "There are no real losers; there's only people that fail to win." I said that! And...
º Last Column: All I'm Looking for is the Perfect Gangbang º more columns
Upon receiving this award, I have this prepared speech for you. Believe me, it's worth your time. Ladies and gentleman who picked me, I have to say thank you. But I suppose I should really be thanking me. I'm the one who's put in the hard work and done everything possible just so I could be me. Do you think it's easy? For me it is. For anyone else, it could be really difficult, but for me, it comes naturally. All I can really say upon receiving this terrific recognition is: it's about time. Other people get rewards for doing nothing, easy stuff like acting or hitting a baseball. That stuff isn't hard. I can hit a rock with a baseball bat, and I'm talking about small rocks. Baseballs are bigger than that. If I really wanted to, I suppose I could play baseball for a living and get rewards every day. It doesn't look all that hard. But I'm happy with the telemarketing job because I get Fridays off. I'm not sure why it took you so long to get around to giving me somethingâI'm not doing your job, although I'm betting I could if I wanted to. I might shock you to say this, but I've never won anything in my life. Nothing. Not an award, not a medal, not a video game or game of bowling. Some people might think they lacked the ability to do something great, but I know it's just because I didn't really want it bad enough whenever I didn't win. Someone great once said, "There are no real losers; there's only people that fail to win." I said that! And it's true. Believe me, I could have won a hundred things like these by now, if I needed that kind of validation enough to break a sweat 24 hours a day. But I don'tâI'm too confident to work for somebody else's approval. Whether it's some faceless committee that picks names out of hats or some tight-ass boss who yells at you on Monday morning because you're not supposed to have Fridays off on your job, I don't need anyone else's approval. There's only one person I need to thank for bringing me into this worldâme. I worked at it, dug and claw my way out of mom's womb, until I was out on my own, and I haven't needed anybody else since. Because I have confidence. Still, I suppose thanks are in order for this great thing I've finally won. Thank you, me, for getting me to this point. I'm glad someone somewhere finally said, "That Awol Jackson, he's a right guy. He's the kind of guy who needs a fucking award." I imagine that's how it went. With less swearing, maybe. Or more. Who knows. But that guy or lady was right. Don't think I'm going to go all soft or anything now that I have won something. I'm still going to keep tryingâtrying as much as I want to try, and no more. I don't need to impress anybody else to make Awol Jackson happy. I don't need to impress anybody. And I don't. I do what I know I should, and I just get by being me. I'm not going to turn all phony overnight and start working just to win awards. I'm not going to put on a suit and work day and night and smile for all the assholes in the world just so I can get more awards to put on my shelf. I don't even have a shelf, and I'm not about to build one. Maybe if I won one I'd take it, but I'm not going to change for no one. If that's what you expect, you can take back your 1000 free hours of Internet service. I don't need awards that badly. I don't even have a computer anyway, so I'm sure not going to miss it. If I won it on my own merit, I'll keep it. If you did it to buy my soul, take it back, you faceless committee. º Last Column: All I'm Looking for is the Perfect Gangbangº more columns
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Quote of the Day“I cannot tell a lieâI like big butts. You other brothers can't deny. My anaconda don't want none, lest you have buns, hon.”
-George WizzleswishingtonFortune 500 CookieOur apologies, but the guy doing your fortune was a complete fraudâhmph. You'd think we'd have seen that coming. This week, reconsider investing in those flame-retardant pajamas for the little ones. Definitely Burger Kingâdefinitely. Lucky dusts this week: Gold, saw, angel, and the stuff on grampa's skin.
Try again later.Top New Year's Resolutions| 1. | Quit being such an asshole | | 2. | Exercise every day. Every Arbor Day. | | 3. | Kill them all | | 4. | Lose 20 pounds to limey con artist | | 5. | Quit smoking halibut | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Lindsay Green 2/9/2004 Vaginal Scrape!Vaginal scrape!
Me!
Today!
Hot damn hot damn, get out of my way!
I've got a date with Mr. Goodtimes.
And the raindrops can't hit my ass
Because I'm moving too fast.
Take me home, Doctor Proctor.
The evening shall be gynecotacular!
That thing's going to be clean enough
To host a picnic inside, I tell you what.
Health inspectors will declare
"It's spotless in there!"
Mark my words and word to Mark:
It's gonna whistle when I run!
Everybody's gonna ask, "What's up Lindsay?
You sound like a rusty swingset today!"
I could tell them why but I just won't say
I'm just gonna smile and wink
Like a sly fox with a nice...
Vaginal scrape!
Me!
Today!
Hot damn hot damn, get out of my way!
I've got a date with Mr. Goodtimes.
And the raindrops can't hit my ass
Because I'm moving too fast.
Take me home, Doctor Proctor.
The evening shall be gynecotacular!
That thing's going to be clean enough
To host a picnic inside, I tell you what.
Health inspectors will declare
"It's spotless in there!"
Mark my words and word to Mark:
It's gonna whistle when I run!
Everybody's gonna ask, "What's up Lindsay?
You sound like a rusty swingset today!"
I could tell them why but I just won't say
I'm just gonna smile and wink
Like a sly fox with a nice clean pink...
You know.
Because it's my secret
(me and the lucky ducks who've read my poem, that is!)
Scrape off that nasty plaque, Dr. Squeak.
Break out the masonry trowel or whatever
You gotta use to lose those blues!
(Though I think he might have to use the chimney brush since I haven't been in a while)   |