"You're the whore!"

As you may have deduced, I truly enjoy badly-behaved celebrities of the not-shaving-my-head- in-a-desperate-cry-for-help form.

And as an unrepentant Anglophile, I particularly enjoy British badly-behaved celebrities. This article contains all of my girly favorites.

For example, La Winehouse-

Her adventures in vodka and rickstasy (her favourite drink, containing three parts vodka, one part Southern Comfort, one part banana liqueur, and one part Baileys) have landed her in the soup too many times to mention.

And Diamond Lil-

When asked last year how she would celebrate if her single "Smile" reached the top of the charts, Allen replied "gak" (grade A cocaine)

But don't forget Sarah Harding, my favorite Girls Aloud member (and she runs around with my Darling Mani, the bitch :)

Hard-drinking Harding, 25, who has been linked romantically with Calum Best of Celebrity Love Island fame, the T4 lothario Steve Jones, the Liverpool footballer John Arne Riise and the actor Stephen Dorff, is now in a "serious" relationship with the Daily Star showbiz columnist Joe Mott. But don't expect to hear the peel of wedding bells. "Love?" she said in a recent interview when asked about the nature of her relationship. "I think you mean lust."

And Charlotte Church, whom Americans know as the "Voice Of An Angel." Girlfriend can hang with the big dogs, y'all-

When Charlotte Church's ex-boyfriend, Kyle Johnson, sold stories about their sex life to a Sunday newspaper, the Cardiff singer dealt with him in her own, forthright way. Bumping into him in a nightclub, she said he was a "stupid little shit". He called her "a slut". She then punched him in the face, with the departing line: "You're the whore!

And the crazy aunt of them all, La Moss-

Perhaps the best example of Moss' hedonism is the 30th birthday party she threw herself in 2004, which ran with a suitable theme, the Beautiful and the Damned.

The drinking started at midday, where Kate and friends downed several thousand pounds' worth of champagne at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel.

Then, the party moved on to a seventh-floor suite at Claridge's, where Kate changed into a blue evening dress and a £300,000 necklace - a personal gift from Louis Vuitton - and guests ate, among other things, 30lb of Beluga caviar.

A little Rev. Ryder for your Saturday Night

Happy Mondays, originally uploaded by modena_musicrock.

Guuuuuh, Bourdain

Oh but I have a bit of a thing for Anthony Bourdain. He curses, smokes and drinks too much and eats things that there is NO FUCKING WAY that I'd ever consider consuming. And he can write.

I actually WATCH Food Network now and again, more often than not drawn in by the progressive horrors on screen. I find myself riveted by its awfulness, like watching a multi-car accident in slow motion. Mesmerized at the ascent of the Ready-Made bobblehead personalities, and the not-so-subtle shunting aside of the Old School chefs, I find myself de-constructing the not-terrible shows, imagining behind the scenes struggles and frustrations, and obsessing unhealthily on the Truly Awful ones. Screaming out loud at Sandra Lee in disbelief as she massacres another dish, then sits grinning, her face stretched into a terrifying rictus of faux cheer for the final triumphant presentation. I mourn for Mario..and Alton...Bobby and yes--even Emeril, nobly holding the fort while the TV empire he helped build crumbles like undercooked Bundt cake into a goo of Cheez Wiz around him.

See, I occassionally find non-British, non-musicians attractive!

via The News Blog

MWWAAAAHHH!

Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I LOVE this man. Go read all the quotes. What a distinctive voice.

On Tony Blair

"It was a big deal, the landslide and all that, and everybody got carried away. We thought it was going to be John F Kennedy and for a year or two it was. Unfortunately for this Labour Government, they are going to be saddled with the Iraq war and nobody can get around that."

On Labour

"Politics is like football for me. Labour is my team and even if you don't like a striker you don't give up supporting the whole team."

On the United States

"Whenever there is a conservative, Bible-waving half-wit ruling in the White House - whether it's Bush, his father or Reagan - there is war."

On Liam

"He is Abbott to my Costello, he is Cannon to my Ball, he is Little to my Large."

On Britney

"'Hit Me Baby One More Time' is a classic tune, but she didn't write it, she just mimed it on telly a few times. I don't get the Britney thing."

On Live8

Correct me if I am wrong, but are they hoping that one of these guys from the G8 is on a quick 15-minute break at Gleneagles and sees Annie Lennox singing 'Sweet Dreams' and thinks, 'Fuck me, she might have a point there, you know'. It's not going to fucking happen, is it?"

On his own work

"'Wonderwall' - that's virtually every bird between the ages of 30 and 36's favourite fucking song... 'Live Forever', in 1993. That changed everything. Before that everything sounded indie."

This does not sound good

Anthony Wilson, the man behind some of Manchester's most well-known bands including Joy Division, New Order and the Happy Mondays, has been diagnosed with cancer and has undergone emergency surgery to remove a kidney, he revealed yesterday. The 56-year-old underwent emergency surgery last month and will begin chemotherapy treatment at the Christie hospital in Withington next week.

Mr Wilson is largely responsible for shaping Manchester's hugely popular music scene and was the founder of the Hacienda nightclub and Factory records. He was impersonated by Steve Coogan in the semi-fictional film 24 Hour Party People. The cancer was diagnosed during a routine visit to his family doctor after he had felt ill for some time.

Random Ten

Post-Valentine's Day exhausted edition

1. Tiptoe- Goldfrapp
2. Darker- Doves
3. Reach Out (I'll Be There)- Four Tops
4. Don't Leave Me This Way- Thelma Houston
5. Acquiesce- Oasis
6. Living For the City- Stevie Wonder
7. Rebel, Rebel- David Bowie
8. Country Girl- Primal Scream
9. Tied Up Too Tight- Hard-Fi
10. Never Ever-All Saints

Bonus-
11. Dolphins Were Monkeys- Ian Brown
12. Shoot The Runner- Kasabian
13. Money- Girls Aloud
14. Holiday- Green Day

Fwaaah, Mr. Simm

Oh, he's lovely. And he used to date Baby? his I did not know!

One of the best actors of his generation, and long a cult star and unlikely sex symbol, Simm, 36, has been threatening to hit the big time for a while. State of Play raised his profile. But it was the time-travelling cop show Life on Mars that put him on the map. Not only did the show pull in more than seven million viewers, the DVD became one of last year's biggest sellers. In November, Life on Mars won Best Drama Series at the International Emmy Awards. And Hollywood producer David E Kelley (of Ally McBeal fame) is planning to make a US version.

Bit worried about that last part. Great, Kelly will try to redeem the Gene Genie, Sam will talk to an imaginary baby and Annie will be anorexic in the US version. Yay. Go America.

Awful

Reading shit like this makes me want to go out and kick puppies or something. The hell that Amanda and Melissa went through? I can't even imagine it. I sincerely hope that Donahue has a rent-boy in his past, and rehab is in his future.

Looking back, the detail that astonishes me the most is the sheer amount of ink, air time, and energy devoted to keeping this phony scandal going until McEwan and I felt we had to resign. One question that's hard to avoid is how much of the venom had to do with the fact that McEwan and I were young women entering into a field (Internet communications) that's viewed as almost monolithically masculine. From my vantage point, it appeared that sexism was one of the primary motivating energies behind the campaign. Even before Donohue stepped in, various right-wing bloggers were obsessed with my gender and sexuality. As I noted at the time of my resignation, the majority of the hate mail I was receiving was from men, and almost all the e-mails made note of my gender or suggested that I would be a more pleasant woman if I wasn't so "angry." Bluntly put, I find it hard to believe that many men would end up being denounced on TV for using words like "fuck" or "cunt" on their blog and expect to receive piles of e-mail offering an opportunity to suck the sender's dick.

Oasis at the Brits

Cigarettes, Meaning of Soul and Morning Glory. God, I love YouTube. This clip is missing Don't Look Back In Anger and Rock and Roll Star. Dammit.

Amy at The Brit Awards

Love, love the dress. Girlfriend needed a bit more hairspray, though.

A Hard Day's Night

Seemed appropriate, as I've had a hard day's night, and have indeed been working like a dog. Also, I have pictures from the Marylebone tube stop in LDN from my History of British Rock and Roll study abroad program. Who would have thunk it? Snerk.

Brit Awards

I'm so very badly in need of sleep that I can't bring myself to recap the Brits. Seriously. I can't believe I just wrote that. My hands hurt so badly that I need to apply Bud Light, STAT, to relieve the pain. I think I did between 15-20 rose arrangements today (dozen roses). That's just me, mind, and not counting all the other floral arrangements I did.

But I'm looking at this picture of the cheeky Monkeys dressed up as the Village! People! and this quote from My Beloved Noel from the show, and imagining all the clever things I'll have to say after I get my nap on.

Before a five-song set that included Rock'n'Roll Star, Don't Look Back in Anger and Cigarettes and Alcohol, Noel Gallagher said: "Thank you very much. It's been a fucking pleasure."

Oasis - Whatever/Octopus's Garden

In honor of My Beloved Noel, Our Kid and associated Oasis members receiving the Lifetime Achievement award at the Brit Awards today, presented by Ringo Starr, here's the brothers from Burnage at Knebworth Park on August 11, 1996.

With Big Brother singing the Beatles bit. I'm in fookin' heaven. My 21st birthday. Obviously, Noel and I are written in the Starrs. Hee hee.

"In my mind, my dreams are real"

Elle (UK) Style Awards

Doesn't La Winehouse look darling? Nice dress, Amo. Very fitting with your Ronette-era look, yet totally modern with the tats. And you can't see her shoes in this photo, but they are Awesome.

Paul Smith show at London Fashion Week

I love the neon, but then my formative years were during the 1980's. Also, the Sherlock Holmes trenchcoat? I MUST have it.

Yellow Submarine

Let me let you in on a secret

from a floral designer to a customer, during this happiest of times.

1. The floral warehouses raise their prices during peak demand times, and most shops do not grow their own product. My boss (also my mother, natch) is not trying to take your arms and legs from you. She runs a business, see. Making money is good. Repeat customers? Also good good, double good. We want you back. Just like the Jackson 5.

2. Don't bitch about delivery charges. Just don't. You sound like an asshole. For God's sake, take a look at Exxon's profits from the last quarter. Not to mention that the shop owner has to maintain a vehicle (gas, insurance, labor). Again, a business is for making money.

3. We're happy to help you, and yes, we do know what we're doing. Being a floral designer is a skill. Would I want to change the oil in my auto guy's car? Hell to the N-O. Would I want my mechanic to create my Valentine's bouquet? Again, hell to the N-O.

4. While it is rewarding to be creative and express yourself, I don't think I'm overstepping to say that most floral designers would be glad to hear the last of the following statements:

"Oh, It must be so fun/relaxing to work with flowers"

Or my own personal favorite-

"Valentine's Day is so commercial/was created by florists/is a waste of money."

For the first, yes, it is fun to create arrangements that make people happy/feel comforted, etc... But don't kid yourself, it's hard fucking work.

First of all, you need to have inventory on hand. Flowers? Perishable. So it's a total crapshoot on whether you need the product, getting the product (providing that your warehouses have said items on hand at the moment), and hoping that you use the product before it fucking DIES and becomes moldy.

And I'm not even mentioning the constant maintenance that the flowers require.

And for the second, Spanky, let me get my bitch boots on. You see, most florists know, WE FUCKING KNOW that Valentine's Day is commercial. We thank Jesus, Buddha, Allah, Shiva, David Beckham, the deity, or non-deity of your choice, that it is commercial. Why?

Because most shop owners aren't in this for shits and giggles. Money is good. And many times in the fiscal year of a florist, the cash ain't coming in. (Summer months tend to be particularly dire. Exception- weddings). If we don't have money, there is no product. None. We need it. You have it. Such is the symbiotic relationship between producer and consumer. If you don't like it, take it up with a fucking economist. See if you can hug it out.

This is because of many reasons, but let me put this to you. You have a cooler full of perishable product, and you know, you fucking know, deep in your heart just like you know that funerals come in threes and that Lisianthus are a bit dodgy, that 2 times in a year, you'll be able to get rid of it. The flowers.

Maybe you'll be able to pay off your overdue bill at the floral warehouse. Maybe you'll be able to pay off the credit card that you used to pay off your other credit card. So that the next time someone comes in expecting a masterpiece for $15, it won't burn as badly. So that my mom won’t wake up with panic attacks regarding financials.

Those days? Valentine's Day and Mother's Day.

We depend on those days to get us through the shitty ass days of July and August.

And you want us to, because if we don’t, what the hell are you going to do the next time you forget your bosses birthday, and need to suck up, real quick? You accidentally say "Yeah, a little" to your girlfriend's query, "Does my ass look big in these pants?" Your best friend finds out something that happened, and words won't cut it? Your grandma calls you, sounding depressed? The next time your wife hears you say the wrong name at an inopportune moment?

You need flowers, arranged by a professional. We can help. And we're glad to. *Smiles*

My, Rick Rubin had a good night

The big question, though, was what to do next. And for that they turned to a very unusual man indeed - the prolific and highly eclectic record producer Rick Rubin, who made his name with rap and heavy rock acts during the 1980s and early 1990s. It might not have sounded like a good fit at all, except that Rubin had also earned a reputation for rescuing the careers of more seasoned artists looking for a new direction - everyone from Johnny Cash to Tom Petty and Neil Diamond. One of Rubin's clients once described him as a "song doctor", and that's exactly what the trio from Texas now needed.

Just look at the list of artists he has worked with. Amazing.

It was quite the night for Rubin all round. He had produced one of the other nominees for album of the year, the Red Hot Chili Peppers' hit Stadium Arcadium, and produced two of the tracks on a third - Justin Timberlake's Future Sex/Love Sounds. And that's not to mention Neil Diamond's big comeback, 12 Songs, and the last, posthumous instalment of Johnny Cash's American Recordings series, A Hundred Highways. Both were released during the Grammies' eligibility period, which runs from October to September, rather than the previous calendar year.

Not too many people outside the music industry have heard of Rubin. And even the Chicks themselves weren't too sure who he was. They just noticed his name on a lot of the albums they were listening to. Among those he has worked with, he is regarded with deep awe and reverence. And it's quite some list by now, spanning everyone from Run-DMC and the Beastie Boys to Slayer, System of a Down and Rage Against the Machine, by way of Mick Jagger, Donovan and The Jesus and Mary Chain.

I am so excited

Yes, this article contains the magic words, "Life On Mars" and "new series!" WHHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

By way of heralding its much-anticipated return to BBC1 tonight, Matthew Graham, the co-creator of drama series Life On Mars, is recalling the show's genesis (its working title, he recalls, was Ford Cortina), and evoking a world with which readers of a certain age will probably be all too familiar. The year is 1973, and John Simm, a 21st-century detective with 21st-century sensibilities and morals, is stranded in a time when the police, as Graham puts it, were "a state within a state" and ethics came a poor second to nailing villains. Most of the cars on the road seemed to be brown. Britain gave off a funny aroma, equal parts cigarette smoke, overcooked vegetables and what connoisseurs of aftershave knew as "the great smell of Brut".

DIXIES!

Congrats on the 'Song of the Year' Grammy, ladies!

Update- AND 'Country Album of the Year!' They apparently kept the Chicks away from Reba McIntire backstage, as Reba didn't appear to have 3 awards jammed up her ass when she presented the next category. (She made a nasty comment about them at the CMA's)

Oh, Matt

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Ramones - California Sun