SCANDALOSO!!!

SIMONA VENTURA SENZA MUTANDE.

FOTO SCATTATA A TRADIMENTO DURANTE UN FUORI ONDA DEL PROGRAMMA DOMENICALE DI RAIDUE QUELLI CHE IL CALCIO.

IL POP E IL TRASH DELLA TV.

Fonte: www.blasfashion.wordpress.com

Da sempre “Uomini e Donne”,  il programma pomeridiano condotto da Maria de Filippi , si contraddistringue per lo stile un pò “caciarone” .  Corteggiatrici e corteggiatori si contendono il/la tronista di turno arrivando ad eccessi al limite dell’imbarazzante. Tra vari episodi di trash che abbiamo visto nel corso degli anni, vi propongo una chicca davvero (im)perdibile..

Even though I barely made it through the first episode of The Beautiful Life (that show was not good, y’all), I’m nevertheless saddened that CW has decided to pull the plug and cancel it after two episodes.  I’m in shock, and I suspect I’m not the only one:

While the show itself was quite bland, I nevertheless cannot understand a world that would deny us Mischa Barton in a prime-time, youth-oriented soap opera.  This news is like the dysmal third season of The O.C., when the show became awful and Marissa Cooper was killed in a car accident, but now I can’t blame it on the public school kids.  When you look it up in the French dictionary, this is what they call “le sadness.”  But we haven’t just lost Mischa.  We’ve also lost this:

Goodbye, Stomp Stomp.  I may have once mistook you for Mischa Barton, but after watching the premiere I realized that you were in fact a different actress who looked incredibly similar to her.  Perhaps it was because of your shared love of racoon eyes.  My bad.  Your genius at forceful catwalk steps is unique and exciting, and I shall miss it.  Particularly when CW inevitably takes this clip down in the next few weeks in an effort to pretend this show didn’t happen.

There’s ultimately nothing that can fix the fact that the world’s now got a little less The Beautiful Life, the show with so little to genuinely offer yet so much fabulous camp potential, so let’s all share a moment with Mischa:

Me too, girl.  Me too.

So, initially I am generally pretty excited when one of the many thirty-somethings in Hollywood runs out of ideas and decides that their only chance at a hit is to attempt to bring back something that was popular during their, and therefore my, youth (por ejemplo: 90210, transformers, fame, melrose place…).  I think most of these are destined to be huge flops.  I certainly haven’t been too impressed with the first few episodes of the new Melrose Place, even with the guest appearances of the still-hot Dr. Michael Mancini and the who-done-it plotline.  But something that has surprised me this season is the new 9-0. 

check out those jeans

I gave up on my dream of having new episodes of my beloved 90210 last season, when the new shows seemed pretty terrible.  For some reason, they couldn’t seem to come up with a plot line that came anywhere near the genius of 90210 classic.  Where are the drug addictions, the cults, the abusive relationships and wildly fluctuating love triangles?  Disappointment all around. 

the new, improved, sluttier version

But then, I happened to see the first two episodes this season because I had the tv on while I was waiting to check out the new Melrose.  I generally have the tv on at all times (I know that’s sad) and I end up vaguely watching a lot of tv while I do homework.  I’d probably be much more productive if that weren’t true.  Regardless of all that – the show seems to have found its stride.  The plot line is more intricate, the characters are more developed.  But I really think that what does it is that instead of a having the lame-o drama of last season, they are amping it up.  Teen pregnancy, drug addiction, sex tapes, and all kinds of major best-friend betrayals.  What I’m saying is, regardless of what you thought last season, its worth a second look. 

Trash TV Tuesdays are back ladies (you know who you are).  Set those DVRs and see what you think of the new season.  Oh, and they came up with a better remix of the theme song, too.  It just gets better and better.

I mean, how could you forget?  Those Melrose Place ads speak the truth, y’all:

Of course this ad’s referring specifically to crotch humping, but we’ve already been over that clever little innuendo.  The fact is that there’s simply no reason that you shouldn’t be watching the premiere tonight.  Seriously, feast your eyes on this 30-second tease of the impending trashapalooza and tell me it doesn’t sending you into a bad-taste tizzy:

Ha haha ha ha ha!  AMAZING!  I’ve honestly been far more gung-ho about this than I ever was about the 90210 reboot because the original Melrose Place is often spoken of as some sort of mid-90s camp television Holy Grail, and even the mere attempt to try and rebottle that go-for-broke-ridiculightening is all I need to dictate my plans for Tuesday evenings.  Added to that, there’s one incredibly important detail that I feel certain guarantees to make this guilty pleasure the guiltiest pleasure in ages:

Yes, that’s right: Ashlee Simpson-Wentz.  I L.O., L.O., L.O.V.E. the fact that she’s going to be on this show.  I’ve no idea if she’ll be good or bad or camptastically incredible, but that doesn’t matter.  If her performance on this show is anything akin to her pop-rock gems “La La” and “Boyfriend,” I can only imagine how much her character is going to be my (not so) secret favorite.  

Besides, she’s already come out in this clip and admitted that her character’s supposed to have a case of the crazies, and we already know what that looks like on this show:

YESSS!!! The mere possibility of Ashlee Simpson-Wentz doing her own take on the Kimberly Shaw wig reveal has got miso giddy.  So set your DVRs to Season Pass, y’all.  The new Melrose Place starts tonight, and it just might be a cornucopia of train-wreck treasures.  You can’t ask for anything more.

Have you seen the print ads for this fall’s Melrose Place remake?  They’re straight-forward and to the point, and you have to applaud the marketing people at CW for not trying to advertise the show as anything more than the epically trashy shit show that it’ll indubitably be:

This poster says, “Melrose Place is about people that are prettier than you.  Prettier people that are doing it.  Some of them are in ugly shoes.  Others are allergic to shoes.  Oh, and sometimes there are old people, but they’re secondary to the young and pretty people that are doing it.”

But what about the other posters?  How much does the message stray?  Let us take a look:

“Here are some more pretty, young people,” announces this ad.  ”They’re also all having sex.  But that one girl who’s straddling one guy’s leg but holding the other guy’s hand?  She might or might not be having sex with both guys.  Isn’t that trashy?  Tune in on Tuesdays at 9 to see she’s actually a tramp or if our ads are just a tease.”  Side note: I want that one guy’s vest, but I hate his pants.

Of course, not to be outdone in the class factor, there’s this poster:

“Are you still confused?,” this poster seems to inquire.  ”Let’s make it clear, then: Melrose Place is about fucking.  Seriously, nothing but that.  We’d pretend there was substance, but this show is really about people with genitals that have a permanent case of wanderlust.  There might also possibly group sex, but we’re not telling.  Also: Ashlee Simpson is in our show.”  Quite frankly, I’m not sure this last part is a draw so much as a buyer beware.  

Oh, but there is one of the ads that doesn’t rely on the old “sex sells” adage:

“These women are all bitches, and one of them is also a cougar.  There will be catfights.” Simple, eloquent, compelling.  I’m sold.

So there you have it.  An ad campaign for a trashy soap based entirely around promises of sex and catfights.  Gold stars to the CW marketing staff.  Gold stars all around.

Remember yesterday’s nightmare?  How could you forget it?  It’s sadly burnt itself into my memory for all eternity.  Sweet mercy was it the worst!

Fortunately for us, the internet is sorta like Newton’s third law of motion, and so for every nightmarish thing that should not exist there is a brilliantly insane thing that most certainly should exist.  Such is the case of this video for an alternate opening for Dynasty, which envisions what I’m pretty certain is an even better version of Dynasty than the one that already exists.  Seriously:

Mon dieu!  All that genius has temporarily stunted my capacity to speak in English, so I’m stuck with responding in French: 

Once I finally stopped LOLing all over myself, I realized that it makes no fathomable sense that we don’t already have an entire episode that featuring this cast.  The only thing more incredible than the trashtastic spectacular that is Dynasty would be the absurdist spectacular that is Dynasty 2.0.  The catfights would stay, naturally, but I must admit that none of us have lived until we’ve seen Jessica Tandy and a hamburger penis throw down in a fountain.  Get to work, internet!

Oh, and I hope mannequin arms are still involved.

And thanks again to Laura, who lead me down the interweb rabbit hole that is Fatal Farm.  Between their TV Themes and Lasagna Cat, they’re like an internet meme machine churning out 110% brilliance.

Fox’s More to Love is a train wreck featuring a fat guy looking for a “Rubenesque” wife.

Don’t know if they filmed this prior to the economy shitting the cot, but Luke (The Fatchelor?) is a ’successful real estate investor’ who owns his own home (no small feat in Mexifornia) and at age 26 makes six figures. That alone should be enough to have the shallow whores of Santa Barbara spreading their fake-tanned legs, I don’t know why this guy wants to lose half his shit at such an early age.

Watching ‘humble’ Luke walk down the beach shirtless, I thought, ‘This fucker’s not really that fat: 330lbs on a 6′3 frame? Love handles, sure, but that’s it.’ He used to be some football behemoth, playing the position of Brick Wall, and the conspicuous absence of body hair meant we’re dealing with yet another fucking shaved dolphin. No, modest Luke’s not worried about extra flab, but body hair on a man in the 21st century? Not unless you’re Wolverine.

Poor Puke. I’ve never heard a reality show “actor” sound more scripted and wooden. “Real beauty is on the inside.” Fuck you.

The other half of this train wreck is the women and their not inconsiderable cabooses. They’re introduced to the traditional reality show colorfully lit mansion (likely owned by some porn king) via limo, but the editing makes it look like all 20 big-boned women are emerging from the same long black clown car.

If you’re a Simpsons fan you may recall the ep where Moe gets plastic surgery and becomes a soap star. Before his transformation he overhears a producer say she wants, “Mary Ann on Gilligan’s Island ugly, not Cornelius on Planet of the Apes ugly. TV-ugly, not…ugly-ugly”. Nineteen out of the 20 women weren’t fat-fat, they were “TV-fat” and gorgeous knockouts, to me and probably a lot of other dudes watching. I would be overjoyed to fuck the shit out of any one of them or all of them at the same time (I’m a hopeless romantic as well as insane).

When the broads meet Puke they are all in some kind of evening wear and gorgeous. About half of them have “sexy confidence” which may or may not be a lie. All of them, via embarassing confessionals, explain how they’ve never had boyfriends or been on dates. I wanted to feel sorry for them but I know too much. The reality is when The Gang is together or out at the club and the cunty thin bitches are being their usual impossible selves, the feral shithead men turn to (or on) the fatties to get suction. Sadly I’m sure every one of the 20 has sucked lots of crooked cock and done a whole lot more in a desperate scramble to get whatever the hell it is they want–”love” being the usual trope –but their pain seemed to run a lot deeper than that meaningless word.

During the hour (40 min. if you have the miracle of TIVO) Puke the Fatchelor is taking the “girls” off to the side one or two at a time and getting mouth kisses, which I found offensive. Kissing is an intimate act, handjobs would’ve been more apropos. The banter and confessionals of the women really hurt. Not a few of them kept crying and saying shit like, “This is my last chance!” Bitch, you’re fucking TWENTY-ONE and you met Puke not more than 20 minutes ago. Last chance? Enough.

Here’s the one Puke will probably pick. “Malissa” may or may not have the best tits in the bunch but she was the best at showing them off.

Inspirados no clássico Cocadaboa Responde, apresentamos uma moça meio perdida que comentou aqui no blog pensando que estava enviando um e-mail para a produção do Studio Pampa (saiba como ela veio parar aqui).

grace:
gostaria que voces tivessem jurados que realmente entendessem de dança porque parece uma marmelada a unica pessoa que se arrisca com passos com alta dificuldade é a ana paula as notas estão erradas so quem ja fez dança de salão pode dizer espero que voces comentem esse assunto obrigado

musicalamizade:
Obrigado pelo comentário, Grace! Concordamos plenamente com você quanto a injustiça na desclassificação da Ana Paula Quinot e apoiamos também a substituição dos jurados por uma galera mais qualificada.
Porém não temos nenhuma influência na produção do Studio Pampa.

[ ]’s
Musical Amizade

Pra quem não entendeu nada, a Grace se referia a polêmica eliminação da Ana Paula Quinot na Dança das Estrelas (uma reapropriação do formato do quadro Dança dos Famosos pelas pampacats meninas do Studio Pampa saiba mais).

Google, mande mais pessoas assim pra cá, adoramos!

Länger als eine Woche möchte ich bitte NIEMALS krank sein..

Noch immer begleitet mich 24 Stunden am Tag ein pochender Schmerz im Kiefer, aber zumindest ist alles wieder abgeschwollen – halbwegs zumindest.. Ein weiteres Indiz dafür, dass es wieder bergauf geht: mein Hund bewacht mich nicht mehr aufopferungsvoll, sondern weicht auch mal wieder von meiner Seite…

Trotzdem, mit Konzentration ist irgendwie noch nicht zu verhandeln.. Somit nehme ich Vorlieb mit diesem überaus dämlichen Fernsehprogramm. Ich habe auch eine neue These aufgestellt: die deutsche Fernsehlandschaft muss es sich definitiv zur Aufgabe gemacht haben, nachmittags so viel menschliche Dummheit und Versagertum wie irgendwie möglich darzustellen. Herzlichen Glückwunsch liebe Fernsehmacher – habt ihr geschafft!

Und was bitte ist mit meinen Daily Soaps passiert?! Der Bubifaktor ist ins unermessliche gestiegen. Wahrscheinlich legt die Teeniewelt von heute keinen Wert mehr auf Attraktivität (siehe Tokio Hotel). Über schauspielerische Leistung reden wir hier mal besser nicht. Da bekommt ja eher unser Sandmännchen mal einen Oscar. Da möchte ich dann aber bitte die Laudatio halten… fürs Lebenswerk oder so..

Really, for no fathomable reason whatsoever, I’ve loved Hilary Duff ever since the summer I worked at Media Play and this video played on loop ALL DAMN THE TIME:

Is that a rhetorical question?  I don’t have the answer to such an existential question, Duff Duff!  Perhaps I’m crippled by a constant fear of stepping out of my comfort zone and encountering failure?  Maybe I just prefer color yellow over gold?  Really, I can’t say!  HELP ME UNDERSTAND!!!

Anyways, much to my utter (and utterly gay) delight, it’s being reported that Hilary Duff’ll be joining Gossip Girl this fall:

Duff, 21, will play a movie star named Olivia Burke who enrolls at NYU in search of a traditional, out-of-the-spotlight college experience. She will be roommates with Vanessa (played by Jessica Szohr).

Duff will first appear on the hit CW show during next season’s fourth episode, scheduled to air Oct. 5.

I can’t wait for this!  Really, this news is absolutely fabulous in so many different ways.  It means that Vanessa and her terribly styled “hipster” look will finally stop being relegated to selling us Dove soap during commercial breaks, which is nice because I really like her as a character even though the show never seems to know what the hell to do with her (except for disappearing to sell soap).  

This also means that Vanessa’s holier-than-thou-’cos-I’m-from-Brooklyn attitude is now going to have a head on collision with a bona fide celebrity.  I smell GG catfight!  We’re going to see her turn up her knows so high that we’ll be able to count her boogers, but then of course Vanessa and the Duffster will become besties two scenes after their conflict is established because the narrative slow-burn is an art completely lost on the Gossip Girl writers.  Whatever.

Mostly, though, there’s something greater and infinitely more important that this news means, and do you want to know what it is?

It means The Story of Bonnie and Clyde will have to wait in development hell a little bit longer!  Hahaha, most ill-conceived of movie ideas EVER, you’re just going to have to wait ’til Hilary Duff’s story arc is over!  If need be, I’ll start an online petition determined to extend her storyline, as well as getting the girl her very own spin-off show, which should definitely be titled Rumor-Mongering Famous Bitch (it’s a title that just rolls off the tongue, n’est-ce pas?).  Frankly, I’ll only have to get one name to sign the petition, and that name is Faye Dunaway.  

Once those writers seen she’s aboard the project, they’ll be fast-tracking that show into production like it’s pure television gold.  Which it will be.  Obviously.  After all, would you really want to mess with this ferociousness?

Thought so.

Kudos to Best Week Ever for picking up on Us Magazine’s scoop.

Da l’inkontro.info:

I media australiani hanno di recente diffuso nuovo materiale fotografico relativo alle inumane detenzioni dei detenuti iracheni nel carcere lager di Abu Ghraib. Si tratta in realtà di una documentazione che poco aggiunge al già angosciante campionario di atrocità cui militari americani irresponsabili e criminali sottoposero prigionieri inermi, martirizzandoli secondo modalità e procedure autorizzate, se non apertamente auspicate, dall’allora presidente USA George Bush e dal suo vice Dick Cheney. [...]

[...] Ed è appunto nella prigione di Abu Ghraib che è ambientato l’omonimo racconto di Luigi Milani, autore di una raccolta di storie intitolata “Memorie a perdere – Racconti di ordinaria allucinazione”, in uscita in questi giorni per i tipi delle Edizioni Akkuaria. L’autore, giornalista freelance con all’attivo collaborazioni con PeaceReporter, PeaceLink e Osservatorio sui Balcani, ha raccolto nel volume storie che spaziano dalla denuncia politica – la già citata Abu Ghraib, ad esempio – al grottesco, come nel caso di “Real TV”, che ipotizza i possibili esiti estremi di certa televisione spazzatura, al sociale, come in “Senza Freni”, angosciante spaccato di alienazione giovanile.

Il booktrailer del libro

Today on my lunch break I decided to go home to see my mom and what she had created for the shop.

When I got home, my plan had failed, my mom was not there and had taken her creations with her to Olympia to show Sister.

So I decided to sit down and see what was on tv. I automatically go to Bravo (channel 66) almost as a reflex these days when I turn on the tv. At noon today Kathy Griffin’s show, My Life On The D-List was on. I wasn’t thrilled to be honest, I had seen a couple episodes and thought it wasn’t the best. But out of options, I decided to tune in anyways. And I am soooo glad I did. It was HILARIOUS.

The episode I saw was season 5 episode 5, in which Kathy Griffin goes shopping with Paris Hilton in order to try and up her fame to the A-list.

First she had to find an outfit to wear with Paris Hilton shopping, and decided on this:

Then of course she had to bring her dog along in Paris Hilton fashion:

(Although her dog was not so mini, and didn’t fit under her arm)

Then after shopping the two decided to go lay by the pool:

And while all of this was going on, Kathy Griffin left her mother in charge of her facebook, or what her mother called it “facespace”. Her mother updated her status with things like “bananas on sale on trader joes”.

I must say, it was a hilarious situation, and I actually “laughed out loud” a couple times.

The other day a similar situation occured, I turned on Brooke Knows Best, fully knowing it probably wouldn’t be that interesting, but then was fully amused instead!

Brooke’s roommate and best friend and booked them a paid appearance on a yacht with this guy:

….that surprise surprise: turned out to be super creepy.

It got to the point where they chose to get off of the yacht in the Bahamas, find a random guy to sail them home, and jump into the water and swim to shore like illegal aliens.

Overall, I just wanted to say how pleased with trash tv I’ve been lately. Especially the Bravo network. I applaud them.

(All images from google images)

We interrupt your regularly scheduled program to bring you the following public service announcement

Now, while I really do not want to be shanked by a Twihard, I must admit that I am a man of simple tastes. I like my beers cold, my Abercrombie models shirtless… and my Vampires to be seductive monsters whose dusty deaths by the hand of a perky heroine teach us valuable lessons about female empowerment. I have personally had enough of waifish pretty-boy Vampires strolling in the sunlight and waxing idiotic as they brood over the torturous nature of their violent and immortal existence.  And don’t get me started on the sparkling. It’s times like this, indeed, that I not only have no commitment to Sparkle Motion, I actively defy it. Consequently, I feel I must voice my alarm at the announcement that the CW, though it has brought us such guilty pleasures as Gossip Girl and Supernatural, is making its own sad bid to perpetuate and profit from the madness wrought by Stephanie Meyer . Obviously hoping to capitalize on the enthusiasm surrounding Twilight, the CW has announced that it has greenlit production on “Th Vampire Diaries,” which is apparently a small-screen adaptation of a lesser-known young adult romance series by the same name. The announcement caused a great disturbance in the Force, as if millions of Twihards cried out in joy—and then were suddenly silenced as they rushed to a sale on body glitter at Hot Topic.

The plot, as described on the CW’s website, is what you would expect. Beautiful girl meets mysterious brooding boy, only to find out he’s a centuries old-Vampire burdened by his impossible existence. Ladies and gentleman, this is a catastrophe. Remember the days when Vampires were actually cool? The mythic personification of all our darkest fears? Symbols of the dangers of repressed sexuality given form? Literary representations of parasitic nobility feeding off the lifeblood of the common man? And now, today, reduced to mere objects of impossible love to cater to tweens and menopausal housewives. The fact that these books are warping an entire generation of girls with their ridiculous depiction of socio-sexual relationships aside, books like Twilight and Diaries are guilty of the more serious crime of making Vampires, well, lame.

True Blood and that shining exemplar of television, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, amply demonstrate that Vampires are at their best when they a feral creatures of the night. True Blood’s Bill Compton (who is really no more than an older Edward Cullen with even worse hair) seems little more than an impotent whining dog compared to his Vampiric brethren, who revel in their immortality and have built a fascinating (to watch) subculture around violence and sexual domination. Buffy’s Angel was never more interesting than in season two, when freed of the curse that returned his human soul. His character was most compelling as a sadistic monster driven by his twisted love and obsession with the slayer as he systematically sought to destroy her. And in the same series, the character Spike went from being the badass William the Bloody to just another bleach-blonded Billy Idol impersonator when he reclaimed his soul.

Ladies and gentleman, there is a plague at work, a plague whose nefarious touch turns the dark seductive masters of the night into pretty-boy emo whiners with all the sex appeal of the Westside YMCA showers after a senior citizens’ water aerobics class. Vampires as I know and love them have become an endangered species, their numbers dwindling. And if the Vampires fall, what then? Who will be next to fall prey to the sugar-coated fantasies of sexually repressed post- adolescents? Zombies? And Werewolves are at an immediate risk, thanks once again Stephanie Meyer!   Something must be done to contain the spread of this vile plague. We must take action. Here and now, I announce the formation of “The Save the Vampires” campaign. Join me, and we shall restore these noble beasts to their proper state.

And, while we’re at it, let’s give Twilight a proper ending…

-Shmathan

“Survive this” er et nytt reality show som går på Cartoon Network der 8 ungdommer med forskjellig bakgrunn blir dratt med ut i villmarka. Der skal de overleve helt uten hjelp og hver dag får de sjansen til å “gi opp” og dra hjem. Dette er vel en slags robinson men med tenåringer… Ikke helt min ting men det kan vel være morsomt å se bortskjemte tenåringer slite i villmarka og *ler*

Jeg gir dette showet

(2/6 stjerner)

Nå er vel ikke jeg i demografen som dette showet er beregnet på vil jeg tro

Kendra er et nytt realityshow som går på E. Personlig så jeg ikke det forrige hun var med i (Girls next door) og jeg tenker heller ikke fortsette se dette. Jeg klarer ikke high maintenance folk i det hele tatt, de gjør meg kvalm. Men om du så og likte det andre reality showet fra Playboy huset så kommer du sikkert til å like denne også. Dette er vel et typisk tenåringsjente/ glamour modell jente type underholdning ville jeg tro… ikke helt min ting iallefall.

Kendra Wilkinson er kjent som en av playmatene til Hugh Hefner, vel.. hun var. Hun tar pene bilder synes jeg men hun er definitivt ikke min type jente. Antakeligvis den perfekte serie for The snob crowd som liker bling, dyre boliger og champagne… så lenge jeg slipper det livet så er jeg fornøyd *ler*.

Jeg gir dette showet

(1/6 stjerner)

Judging by all available pictures, Mischa Barton is Hollywood’s hardest working actress.  Why?  Because she doesn’t even have time to eat:

Even back in her glory days as both a cast member of The O.C. (best show EVAH!) and the spokesperson for Neutrogena, I always found myself inexplicably compelled to throw bagels at the television screen and screechily demand her to eat something.  But then she died on The O.C., and with the death of Marissa came the apparent death of Ms. Barton’s career.  WRONG!  Bitch is back this fall on the CW, and her new show is the trashtacular The Beautiful Life.  Just feast your eyes on this mess:

If nothing else, I will watch this show in its entire run just to learn Mischa Barton’s stomp walk and head swivels.  Seriously, when I deliver mail at work, I want to STOMP STOMP STOMP over to my coworkers’ desks, give a hungry-hungry-bitchface look as I toss their mail down, HEAD TURN, then STOMP STOMP STOMP away.  Fortunately, though, Mischa and The Beautiful Life aren’t just educational tools on how to be a fierce bitch.  No no, they’re also a lesson in crafting mind-bending drama:

Hot diggity-damn!  My mind hasn’t been this blown since Lost!  Her eyeliner suggests that she’s a very sad raccoon sent back from the future, and I can guarantee you that a world in which a designer dress cannot fit Mischa Barton is most certainly not Earth.  Perhaps The Beautiful Life is set on Mars, but I’m frankly betting on Jupiter.  We all know how fat that planet is.

Intergalactic excursions aside, Mischa’s also got her film career back on track.  She may no longer be the vomiting ghost from The Sixth Sense, but that doesn’t mean she’s out of the horror business:

Et tu, Haley Joel Osment?  This trailer doesn’t make much narrative sense, but that doesn’t mean I’m not excited.  Mischa Barton+axe=ludicrous to the extreme.  I’d say this is some bad-Thai-food-inspired fever dream I once had that somehow found its way onto YouTube, but no, Homecoming’s a real movie with a limited release on July 19th.  I get that this movie also stars Jessica Stroup from the new 90210, and I’m sure someone in Hollywood’s hoping they can capitalize on her success to boost ticket sales, but who honestly buys this garbage?

Oh, right, the answer is me.

I always knew that I loved Mischa Barton a reason, but today I finally know why.  In my ever constant quest for camp gold, Mischa Barton’s a quarry of riches.  Now if we could just get her to eat something…