“Everyone knows that bitch got knocked up by someone else and TRICKED him into marriage! Ugly slut! I hope they divorce!” It sounds like a comment you would find on a Daily Mail article about some celebrity drama. But the…
I have been fortunate enough not to have actually seen an episode of one of the many Kardashian-related reality TV shows in existence. Yet I am unfortunate enough to still know who these people are. That said, I have to…
Ohhh Tucker Max. I don’t even want to respond to this blog post because the writing is bad enough to be nearly incomprehensible (editors!) and Tucker himself appears to have an IQ slightly above that of a medium-sized houseplant. Against my better judgment, though, here we go.
Noted misogynist Tucker Max recently attempted to donate $500,000 to Planned Parenthood in order to decrease his tax burden and promote his new book. PP was initially glad to receive the gift — lord knows they need the money — but when they realized it was from Tucker Max and part of a media blitz, they declined. Now Max’s brand manager/strategist is blowing them up on Forbes:
Belvedere vodka has some competition for Most Tasteless Marketing of a Consumer Product (Facebook Edition). Atlanta-area restaurant Chops & Hops has put in its bid with their newest celebrity-themed burger: Rihanna’s “Caribbean Black & Bleu” sandwich.
There seems to be this recycled response when a female celebrity dies from anything other than an accident, illness or old age: “She couldn’t handle the fame.”
Trigger warning for domestic violence
Sasha Pasulka of HelloGiggles said it best: “I’m not okay with Chris Brown performing at the Grammys and I’m not sure why you are.” She points out that the popular response to Chris Brown’s beating of Rihanna was beyond disappointing, with fans and celebrities alike falling back on “No one knows exactly what happened” and “It takes two to tango” and “He’s such a great guy; he never would have done something like that unprovoked.” Jump forward three years, he was invited to perform at the Grammys (because the music industry appears to be okay with it). Because, says Grammys producer Ken Erlich, people deserve a second chance. And he hasn’t performed at the Grammys for two whole years now. And “we were the victim of what happened.”
But that was last night. That was Hollywood’s reaction. This morning, it’s the fans’ reaction, which appears to be: Chris Brown is so hot, it would be okay if he beat me.
It would be awesome if he beat me.
Examples hidden behind the jump, because seriously, triggering. I just can’t.
Jaclyn Friedman’s Unsolicited Advice column in GOOD. This week she advises Blue Ivy Carter:
One of the things that’s going to be especially weird, if the response to Shiloh Jolie-Pitt’s haircut is any indication, is that a non-trivial minority of the global population will soon consider what you do with your body and your sexuality their business. In fact, they’ve already started. Most people would welcome a new addition to their family as “the most beautiful baby in the world,” but in your case, perfect strangers are already being invited to assess that claim.
I have a long-standing soft spot in my heart for Ms. Knowles, and although I’m not much of a celebrity gossip follower, I was very happy to hear about her giving birth to baby Ivy Blue, with husband Jay-Z. Jay even wrote a song about it — and while it’s admittedly not the hottest track, it is extremely sweet and no I did not tear up I JUST HAVE SOMETHING IN MY EYE.
Welcome to the twisted glory that is Mormon housewife turned teen-lit sensation Stephenie Meyer’s imagination.
On the pages of Breaking Dawn Meyer let that imagination, which has been hovering under the repressed surface of the series’ previous three books, run rampant: Bedboard-breaking, feather-spilling, bruising honeymoon sex. A demonic pregnancy that grows so fast the fetus is nudging and jumping around the heroine’s womb days after conception. A grown-up werewolf falling in love with a half-vampire infant. And our heavily-pregnant heroine sipping blood from a soda cup–and loving it–just before her ribs and spine are shattered by the immortal spawn she’s carrying. It gets better: a c-section performed by vampire teeth. A shot of venom straight to the heart. A crazed childless vampire woman who will protect the fetus at all costs.
This is a guest post by Echo Zen.
“It sounds ludicrous. Let’s try it.”
“Good. I’m down for anything involving karate and contraception.”*
As Feministe readers may have noticed lately, my crew of summer film students and I have been making short films on kung fu condoms over the past few months.