ultranow

farewell cyd charisse

megastar (yes still dammit) cyd charisse died today at 86. and don't let anyone tell you fergie has great legs. cyd invented legs. and i'm sad.

gary gygax is gary gygax dead

gary gygax, co-creator of dungeons & dragons, died today.  unlike his role playing games, we can't just draw up a new gary gygax character, roll some dice to determine strength, intelligence, wisdom, dexterity, constitution, and charisma, pick a character class, say magic user, and get some geek buddies to geek out on the d&d back in 1978 again.  because he's dead.

i loved d&d.  i played the first boxed set when i was such a little kid.  it was an escape with purpose.  it was the groundbreaking role playing game.  occasionally i've been tempted to try it as an adult, but trips to a comic store which carried the new versions proved how complex they've gotten.  over complex in my opinion.  he was out of the main d&d system by 1985 but did write adventures for it.  it's not just tolkein set to a game.  it's role playing.  it's limitless.  it's listening to dr. ruth and deep purple on the radio in my basement while picking a lock, stabbing a kobold and getting pegged by gelatinous ooze.  it's wondering what's behind door number one.  it's wondering what the right decision is then making one even though unsure.

it's acing exams in latin and english classes that are in any way based on greek, roman, nordic or celtic mythology because all that business was in deities and demig-ds.  it's fighting monsters with ideas and dice and teamwork.  it's sexy sexy centaurs.  it's vibrant, powerful, adventurous spirits eating stale fig newtons until 1 a.m., brains going wild with excitement at the possibilities of life.  kids realizing that pretend possibilities and real life possibilities are similar in that the possibility has not yet come to fruition yet it could.  it could.

i love d&d.  i wish i were a kid enough still to play it.  but i will honor mr. gygax by bringing forth my own adventurous spirit, gaining experience points and advancing through life with purpose and honor.  my alignment?  chaotic good.  of course.

lindsay lohan is dead nicole richie is dead paris hilton is dead bananarama is dead george michael is dead liquid eyeliner is dead

well not really but lawanda page is dead and i still care about that and that happened 5 years ago.  which reminds me of the time fred sanford was going for the guiness record for staying awake and lawanda as aunt ethel said he should already be in the guiness book for the lollipop record - all day sucka'.  [insert laugh track here]  seeeeenaaaaaap!!!!!!

chris benoit murder suicide extravaganza

of all the professional wrestlers who could possibly kill their families and then themselves, why did it have to be chris benoit's murder suicide shenanigans?  why couldn't it have been hulk hogan to do the deeds?  at least then daughter brooke's music career would be over.  oh wait, it already is.

time will tell if it was 'roid rage, but for now i'm just glad chris never took me up on an offer i made via a homemade sign i brought to a wwe show at seattle's key arena a few year's ago.  it was simply a downward arrow pointing at myself and the now horrifying words "future mrs. benoit!"  my alternate sign "take me to the edge!" directed at, of course, edge had actually been greeted with a friendly nod by edge himself.  benoit thankfully ignored me.

joking about the deaths last night with a friend, because that's how we roll, we wondered if benoit had killed them with his trademark crippler crossface.  since his son died of being smothered, this actually now seems like a possibility.  somehow murder suicide is not funny today.  or at least not as funny.

but back to air quotes funny.  since he was known as the rabid wolverine, perhaps the medical examiner will discover he actually had rabies and there can be a panic inducing headline "rabid wolverine kills family then self!"

he's still one of the hottest pieces of rough trade wrestling has ever produced, even if he's dead.  goodbye chris.

p.s. possibly wwe should have waited on airing the hours long benoit tribute it did on monday night.  tributes to murderers aren't as cool as they used to be.

when a jewish android dreams of charles nelson reilly

ever since charles nelson reilly died, the world is not enough.  so i had this dream see.  i'm in a college classroom and charles, i mean mr. nelson reilly, is a special guest because it's a theater related class and he is (was in real life but is in the dream) a theater g-ddess.  after his presentation, he and i are milling around this table full of crappy snacks and he's talking to me like he's met me before which i just go with even though i don't remember it and he says there's a guy i know in london who would be perfect for you and i'm going to set you up with him in a month.  i'll fly you out and everything.

i knew mr. nelson reilly wouldn't live that long and i was torn between telling him he should set me up sooner because i selfishly wanted to meet that guy because madonna once asked me do you believe in love and i said yes really quick before she could say well i've got something to say about it and it goes something like this.  torn between telling him because knowing he was going to die in short order might ruin his remaining time.  torn between that and not telling him, which would mean i'd never get set up with the guy in london.

it's only after the fact of this dream that i realized what i should have said to mr. nelson reilly is that he specify in his will that i am to be set up with mr. so and so smart, funny, sensitive hunk on such and such a day in london.  so that didn't work out.

hey did you know that people say confidence and power are sexy?  i'm so screwed.

charles nelson reilly is blank

nnnnnnnnooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

finally the holy trifecta of paul lynde, charles nelson reilly and jim j. bullock is no more and i am in permanent grief mode.  jim j. is alive?  thank goodness.  carry on the mary torch, jim j., as long as it can burn.  for now, let us, and his partner since 1980 patrick hughes, weep the passing of charles nelson reilly, who should not solely be remembered for match game as his resume should attest, though match game would be enough.  he is still of the moment, though dead, with an award winning indie film on the festival circuit as we speak, called, oh so ironically, the life of reilly.

take notes, minstrel show faggots of this millenium (yes i mean you sean hayes), charles found a way to be himself on tv at a time when that should not have been possible and he did it in such a way that people laughed with him, not at him.  he was a gifted comedic and dramatic actor, unafraid to take risks personally and professionally.  a true inspiration.

p.s. boobs.

britney spears is dead!

sorry, just practicing.  maybe better headlines will be:

• britney boo hoo
• britneys spears's dead
• britney! spears! dead!
• mars needs britney spears dead!
• brit coffin to have it's day in the sun
• heaven's latest resident loves chewing tobakki
• britney spears dead one day, then alive the next, then dead again

this is horrible.  must stop.  can't stop.

• busted behemoth bumpkin britney buried below before billions

i am the father of anna nicole's baby

that's my sperm in anna nicole's bahamanian fridge.  don't let the methadone label on the container throw you off.  she was saving up for a second homosexual impregnation by my 100% released essence.  this claim should be enough to get me on larry king live and/or nancy grace because broadcasters who will put on as authorities the mother and sister anna nicole hated, bobby trendy who was her reality show gag, and chyna who is severely a nobody, clearly have no standards.

since it's highly likely she died intestate, let me now also claim she whispered to me many times that everything should go to me.  just the money, not the lawsuits.  we met in a masculine male stripper emporium where it was ladies night which meant she and her mammaries drank free.  we fell in love with love and now everything is mine, including her entourage and howard k. stern's dick in my ass.

let's all collectively switch to some more harmless news and let her rest.  the speed should be wearing off in her system any day now, so it's perfect timing.  if we need something innocuous to focus on, how about a deathwatch on danny bonaduce.  i say he's got until summer solstice 2009 tops.

the most implausible phrase i've ever heard on cnn

"the shocking death of anna nicole smith"

dueling tragedies

dead ancient starlet yvonne de carlo

dead scooby-doo, shaggy, velma, daphne and fred designer iwao takamoto

dead suzanne somers' house

a little too

• a little too real
• a little too sad
• a little too dangerous
• a little too beautiful

steve "croc hunter" irwin shot through the heart with his desire

specifically, he's dead from a stingray barb to the heart.  so neither snakes nor crocodiles nor sharks nor the semi-scorn of fellow australians for being such an australian stereotype did him in.  it was a beautiful, gliding and flowing stingray, which apparently aren't by nature aggressive.  simply a horrible accident, made more probable by a life of risk. let us all take one additional (non-stingray related) risk in his honor.  44 is way too young to go.  that's not even judy garland old.

while i suppose this means croc hunter halloween getups such as this fella's will now be inappropriate, i certainly hope this doesn't mean the permanent death of such short shorts and such happy go lucky, devil may care bulge action.  here's to you steve irwin.  and your poor family.

obligatory pop culture blog moment

aaron spelling is dead:  who will resurrect robert "vega$" urich's career now?  urich's dead too?  then what the hell was he still doing in the tooth whitening infomercial months after his supposed demise?  who wants tooth whitening equipment from a dead guy?  and most importantly, why couldn't tori die first?  can't she do anything right?  i can't stop asking questions?

star jones is leaving (fired/unrenewed from) the view: just 3 more ludicrously uniformed know it alls to go and the show will be 100% percent lesbian.  actually if rosie's the only host it will be 150% lesbian.

meredith viera and star jones off the view:  reverse affirmative action.  producer barbara walters goes all klan for '06.

nicole kidman marries keith urban:  botox, pipe cleaner legs, i have no idea what to say.  how do people write about nicole kidman?  keith urban though equals sexy man arms.  i got that one down.

paris hilton is dead: pop rocks and coke kills again.  spread the good word.

don't you forget about him

the breakfast club meanie principal paul gleason, whose character richard vernon defied the whole "principal is your pal" spelling test memory trick because he was nobody's pal, is dead.  as an established character actor, he's had a million other roles, like getting fucked by a gorilla in trading places and as ski resort guest in 1965's winter a-go-go, but all that matters is the breakfast club, because all that matters in life is sharing an enemy, or at least that's what i learned during reagan's presidency (nancy reagan's).  otherwise i'm practically speechless, except of course for...

"dear mr. vernon: we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. but we think you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are. you see us as you want to see us: in the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. but what we found out is that each one of us is a brain...and an athlete...a princess...and a basket case...and a criminal.  does that answer your question?

sincerely yours,
the breakfast club"

somebody special is dead again

she's just burning doing the neutron dance is finally a euphemism for death but still i want to know where the hell was bonnie that she was "unable to be present" at her sister june's deathbed. her egotistical solo career can't be keeping her that busy still.

once upon a time i heard neutron dance emanating from a jukebox in a diner just off the highway in the midwest region of earth and i said loudly "i love the pointer sisters" and my bio brood scuzz told me to shut up and were all scared that we would be killed because i said out loud that i loved a black singing group, which especially made no sense because it was on the jukebox and anyway since when do potentially racist people in a diner have a problem with loving a black singing group and yet still hating black people? anycrap, i love the pointer sisters and no one ever got killed for loving the pointer sisters, unless you count june pointer from cancer. who the fuck wants 1953-2006 on their tombstone? sad.

happy happy blank blank

hey, say i'm the owner of an online german sex accessory emporium - lube and vibes and this confusing "oral trainer". why what would i call my website? something slightly classy yet fully derivative of monopoly and pirates like "pleasure chest"? or something painfully reverse punnish like "toys in babeland"? or how about something in reference to groups of jewish women used as sex slaves in nazi concentration camps, which was later a name assumed by some modrockers who while not totally anti-semitic were really pushing it with that name.  yeah that's perfect.  i'd name my site joy division.de!  i imagine it came down to this or hogansdildos.de, which they didn't go with because of bob crane's gruesome death, which makes me want to know - what is the sound of one pervert dying? and what the hell is an oral trainer? does it block everything but the clit? cause if that's the case i was born with one on and it can go now.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!

i just wanna fuckin' dance.  which is true because if i don't take dancing lessons again (it's been years) i will burst.  i knew i watched dancing with the stars for a reason besides being jealous of stacy keibler's legs, if i were a girl that is, which maybe i am. i really have no idea. anyway, i'm going to take beginning ballet because among jazz, modern and ballet, all of which i've taken a bit of, ballet was my favorite. except for the moment in modern where the instructor told us to dance our names. so it's beginning ballet for me. i mean fuckin' beginning ballet.

#13 and #6 are my favorites.

so if sandra bernhard died in ghana i guess she'd be buried in a custom made ghanian coffin shaped like either irony or love.

oh, and aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!! go sasha, kimmie and now emily i guess. i'll get over it and be cheering when it's time for them to go on. for now, i feel like tonya harding nailed me with a hubcap to the neck and got acquitted by reason of the jury was afraid of her.

shelley winters is not dead

shelley winters finally bit it. it not being the ebay commercial it. though her memorabilia might get a boost on ebay now, because the it she bit is the sickeningly sweet candy bar of death, which i've been in denial about since ground zero for shelley day january 14, 2006. she'd been in show business over 60 years, with unforgettable roles from the epic flick the poseidon adventure to the epic tv show roseanne.  my personal favorites are her extremely jewish role in the extremely jewish next stop, greenwich village and her extremely lesbian drug lord role in the extremely blaxploitationy cleopatra jones. perhaps my adoration of these pictures is due to the presence in both of antonio fargas, but i'm thinking it's her, a badass showbiz workhorse with moxie, heart and power, one of the greatest character actresses ever. the only upside of her death is that it may result in more roles for olympia dukakis.

shelley winters on the explosion of on-screen nudity: "i think it's all disgusting, shameful, and damaging to all things american. but if I were 22 with a great body, it would be artistic, tasteful, patriotic, and a progressive, religious experience."

dear wendie jo sperber

you made bosom buddies watchable, private benjamin quirky fun, back to the future not about michael j. fox for a welcome minute and took my eyes off adrian zmed's bare chest in bachelor party, not an easy task. you were the same in every role in that you were yourself, but you also were deep in character and different every time. it never felt like you were trying to act. you just were. remember your role on designing women when you were the most could care less hate my boss photographer's assistant ever on tv and you stole back the degrading pics your pig boss had snapped of our designing women? he told julia to ever so gently suck her pearls and she went on this rant about how he would never ask donald trump to wet his lips and suck pearls but when they take pics of businesswomen it turns degrading so you stole the negatives and quit your job for them. love you for that. you were a brilliant character actress as they say and had the perfect voice, body language and naturalness in a role to really pop off the screen. you survived breast cancer for 8 years until you died yesterday. i wish you'd been my fag hag. you still can be. i demand a wendie jo sperber marathon for everyone right now. the only one i can think who is slightly like you would be edie mcclurg maybe, not in the types of characters you each played, but simply in individuality. and i just googlefought you two and you kicked her ass.  but then i googlefought you against death and it kicked your ass.

wendie jo, you can read your obit here, if you're not sure you're dead.  i'm not entirely convinced.

shalom.

r.i.p. nipsey russell

"Don't put the baby on the waterbed,
it could be very grim.
You'll never know if he's wetting the bed,
or if the bed is wetting him!"

"The kids are saying 'make love, not war'
and I'm beginning to think they're right.
For war costs millions of dollars a day,
and love, just a few bucks a night!"

"Today's young people are really smart,
you'd be surprised how much they know.
Instead of asking you where they came from,
they now tell you where you can go!"

nipsey wiki