I don't know how to break this to you, so I'm just going to come out and say it: Juliette and the Licks apparently broke up back in JANUARY. Why was I not notified, Universe? This means we may never get to hear her perform such instant classics as "Sticky Honey," in which she wails with such unbridled yearning, "Sticky sticky sticky honey // Man lands on Mars // Man rips off his broken parts."

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[Photo: WENN.com]

The GOOD news is, it doesn't appear to have affected her aesthetic yet.

Also, her new band -- The New Romantiques -- isn't wasting any time getting to the crazy. Its song is called "Suicide Dive Bombers," which Juliette said, quite seriously, is a love letter to all the fans who keep coming to watch in her perform. And it's true. Nothing bespeaks the heart's most precious emotion than a song named after terrorists that includes the words, "Now you see this path has all been laid out... littered with guillotine and razorblades. I lost my mind more than once." If that's love, then can't WAIT to see what comes out when she decides to write a lyrical hate letter.

Well, this was unexpected.

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[Photo: WENN.com]
 
Do we think Pete Wentz, after a few too many cocktails, had a "Eureka!" moment in which he finally married his twin passions of A Clockwork Orange and Sharpies? Or do we think he passed out and his bandmates drew on his face? Either way, Ashlee will be so pissed. She didn't get fired from Melrose Place just to sit around the house scrubbing his eyelid with cold cream.

Perhaps Pete will give us a clue as to what inspired this. Pete? Do you have anything to say for yourself?

Given our soapy proclivities, it ought not surprise you that we think James Franco's planned appearance on General Hospital is awesome -- and that it makes HIM that much more awesome, too.

Based on the photo, Franco is throwing himself into GH with gusto. His eyes are so shifty, his hands so deeply jammed into the pockets of his slick black suit, that he might as well wear a sign saying, "As soon I leave this room, I'm going to pull a gun out of my pocket, chuckle sinisterly, and then deliver an evil monologue to the wall at full volume in the middle of a crowded yet strangely blind-and-deaf public space."

But WHY do we think it makes him Hollywood's most interesting actor? To find out, you'll have to click through and read the whole piece. It's worth it just for the photo. That is some serious soap-opera brooding happening.
I kind of want to like this. Indeed, I DO like it conceptually:

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[Photo: PacificCoastNewsOnline.com]

But Cammy, there's no shame in going up a size. Nobody will know but you. Trust me, it's worth it: You'll look better, you can inhale sweet oxygen, and you might even have room for some free appetizers and a cocktail. Hell, throw in that badass necklace, and for some of us, that constitutes a perfect night.

P.S. I think... no on the shoes. They're too heavy with the outfit. Hooves are for horses, not humans.
This was going to be a scrolldown fug, but frankly, I'm not that enamored of any of it.

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That looks like an ornate bathrobe -- like what Charlize might throw on at home in her dressing room if, say, she's about to take a scrappy orphan girl to the movies, and she'd like to sing about it for a bit first while she powders her nose. The shoes seem totally discordant with the rest of the outfit -- just because they have sparkly things on them, it doesn't mean they're formal -- and I wouldn't be at all surprised to learn that Charlize spent the entire night with her hand covering her crotch, just in case her robe keeps riding up there and threatening to turn "Let's Go To The Movies" into an odd euphemism -- albeit one that Daddy Warbucks would enjoy.

Dearest Mel B. You have serious problems here. How to put this...

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How about if I borrow from one of your tender Spice Girls ballads:

Get a little bit clothed here, baby.
Put 'em on, put 'em on.
'Cause tonight
Is the night
Your pants must get done.
You need some trou like you've never needed trou before (let 'em make love to you, baby).
You've got a little shirt -- now go back for more (don't let it make fug to you, baby).
Setting your crotch free
Is no public way to be.




Apparently, Drew here -- promoting Everybody's Fine, a movie I had no idea even existed, with a title that inspires absolutely no curiosity in me because, hey, if everybody's fine, then I don't need to pay $13 to check in with them -- is wearing one of Victoria Beckham's creations.

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Time was, if we'd heard Posh would be designing clothes, we'd be girding our loins for leopard-print corsets attached to a skirt made of one linen napkin and a riding crop, a tutu made of soccer balls, or some kind of actual high-fashion loin-girder constructed from leather and three kitchen knives. Seriously, rewind to 2005, and ask yourself if you'd have envisioned this dress when someone said the words, "Designed by Victoria Beckham."

Some of Posh's other stuff is quite pretty, but this one is leaving me cold. It's very Walking Up The Aisle At A Winter Wedding, While Making Eye Contact With Hot Single Groomsman No. 2. I'm not entirely sure if the bodice fits, and the length is very stumpifying. I want it to be shorter. Indeed, as much as Drew has quirked it up lately to a level that is confusing to me (I will never understand the skunk dye job, for instance), this seems so tame that her very Drewness, that lively spirit, has gotten lost in its stodgy eggplant embrace. Woe. Indeed, I started this post as a Fug or Fab, and then realized I'd written the entire thing without very much optimism for the "fab" vote.

Eh, might as well put it to a poll anyway.

November 4, 2009
Can we all just take a second to absorb what Brad Pitt has done to his facial hair?

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[Photo: Splash News]

Yes. I believe those are wee goatee ponytails. Or maybe he's considering making an attempt at face-dreads? Am I allowed to pretend that this is either leftover from Halloween, or that he lost some crazy bet with Pax? Yes. Yes, let's all make a pact to agree that this is the off-spring of a bet. Oh my god, I feel better now.


You know, I'm sorry for all the times we make jokes about how people look like they're figure-skaters.

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But people could help us out a little, you know. They COULD stop dressing like they're about to bust out a triple axle and then land on the head of a man dressed as a giant baby that's balancing on the toes of three acrobats, as part of Mystere On Ice. This would save us all a lot of aggro. Particularly the giant baby-man who's about to get a skate blade to the noggin. (Although, have you SEEN Mystere? He totally has it coming.)

Parenthetically: I love a hidden platform in a shoe. It makes the super-high heels secretly very manageable. But I think perhaps footwear is veering away from "hidden" platforms and more toward "I nailed a doorstop to the bottom of my feet." It's kind of freaky. Either hold me, or buy me a Diet Coke. Thanks.

You know what I love? If you've been reading long enough, you probably do: Diet Coke, sandwiches, Josh Jackson, shoes, and when people wear wacky hats to horse races. Yesterday (or...two days ago? I get confused with the whole international date line thing, and how our friends in Australia are living in THE FUTURE) was the Melbourne Cup, and it was not disappointing. Let's examine the ladies and their wacky/fabulous hats, shall we?

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Former Miss Universe Jennifer Hawkins looks fine, if maybe in need of a slightly larger skirt. Like, half a size. Maybe a quarter of a size. Just so I can't see her hip flexor muscles. But what's that on her head?

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