Whatever. THIS one finds grenades. [ke-we.net]

This is the most heartbreaking part of "Behind The Music: T.A.T.U."

They should tell [REDACTED] to put down the bong and get cracking. Just one reporter's opinion.

EXACTLY.

I say this with absolutely no snark whatsoever: The Black Kids are still a band? What have they been up to? (Not to put you on the spot.) Congrats to them, and for their delightful residual checks!

There's a Bizzaro World "Velveteen Rabbit"-style parable in all of this, the tale of a pretend song hated so much by everyone, that it became real.

It got a three-picture deal at Sony.

You bet I do!

What if I'm a member of The Patriarchy? Surely this falls under the category of "Privileges," right?

You are not alone, Hotpants. (I've waited my whole life to write those words, I just didn't know it.)

So this is a top fear of mine, as I have four or five friends who have lost loved ones to aneurisms. My big question is, how do we find out if we have this condition in the first place? Can I go to my doctor and demand a brain scan just 'cause?

"...hurm...forgotten again...hurm...carnage...hats...hurm,..."

ScarJo and SeaPen. The story so nice, they reported it twice.

For my tastes, I found it a little wordy. That's why I shortened it up for them.

Hence "Celebrity Rehab."

I like Sad Wine.

Hors D'oevre, Sadie. Hors D'oevre.

I see you.

"...people in America no longer view pets as purely functional or ornamental parts of their household but as actual members of the family."

The irony of this redesign-sponsored double post is delicious.