Jesus Christ, just release it already.

All right, gays. Here you go...

Non-immunity.

People, no matter on what tables the kids from Rent dance, AIDS continues to make the world a more terrible place.

Try a Tyra.

In the wake of Tyra Banks's dressing in a fat suit to experience what it's like to live as an overweight person, apparently a fat person donned a Tyra suit to see what it's like to be in the Victoria's Secret fashion show.

Waxed on.

We just got word from the Moscow News that they forgot to include this photograph with the other pics from the aforeposted wax exhibition on the effects of drug abuse.



These figures represent the effects of coke on a former MTV VJ. Moscow News regrets its error.

From Russia with crack.

Finally, an exhibition that poses the age-old question, Mother is an alcoholic, older sister is a drug addict—what will happen to a girl that now plays with a doll?



(Um, don't even get us started on the Freddie Mercury-dying-of-AIDS one. We don't have the strength.)

Brother Tom's gabbin'.

Oh, Tang Ge, you're such a cad.

Your cubicle measures 5'10'' x 20''.

Plush life.

Who got all three rings around the neck of the Coke bottle?

Natasha Richardson, that's who!

A Missy Elliott excluuzive.

Missy Elliott disappointed fans in Amsterdam after she showed up late to her concert and then only performed for an hour with no encore. She attributed it to a bum knee, but according to this article, de problemen met haar knie waren ook de reden waarom ze de Nederlandse pers gistermiddag 3,5 uur lang liet wachten om alsnog alle interviews af te zeggen.

Get lost Lost.

It's Wednesday, folks. Know what that means? It means that one of our very good friends and funny ladees, Erin Foley, has uncovered a lost scene from ABC's hit television show, "Lost." It's located at her blog, and it's full of exciting information you won't learn from merely watching the program. Angry Ana Lucia may have been an angry pregnant cop, but that's not the only secret she's hiding. And what other skill can mysterious Locke possibly have up the sleeve of his safari outfit? Well, you'll just have to click these numbers to find out: 4 63 95 1 5 banana 18 127.

A.K.A. finished.

As per usual, we lied. One more post, only because it's very important. We missed this item earlier, but luckily we have informants working around the clock to keep us up to speed.

Alas, we're all out of our misery—Alias has been canceled.

HALLELUJAH!

Unfortunately the show will end having had two good seasons to three bad ones, so what started as something completely original, exciting and engaging will be remembered mostly for its anticlimactic plots, non-dead deads and an insta-sister. Well, at least Victor Garber can start acting again. And we can stop caring.

Suxor.

Finally, if you had a better day than we did, do not click here.

IM going to the movies.

Here's something nifty that was brought to our attention by a longtime reader who actually saw Rent twice this past weekend (his name is being withheld for that very reason). If you are an Instant Message™ or Instant Messenger™ user, go ahead and add MovieFone to your Buddy List™. Once added, write a message to MovieFone, and you'll be able to get movie times for your area. Just like that. Instantly! With a Messenger! Or a Message! ™!

Cher your cooking.

We found this bit of amazing in an article detailing the best and worst cookbooks for holiday gifting. You can guess what category this fell under, but you'd be wrong. It's a "worst" pick, as evidenced by this recipe for "Cher's Baked Beans": two cans baked beans, ketchup, brown sugar.



The bad news is the book is out of print. The good news is Amazon has 31 used copies beginning at $2.17. What does that mean? It means you won't have to turn back time to believe in these recipes, you dark lady.

You been Punk'd!

Hey, guys, look—it's li'l Punky!



And here's big Punky. She is not amused!



All right. We happen to think little Poet is the cutest thing ever despite his mother's apparent fatigue and frustration. Kidding! We think kids are almost as evil as birds and cats. Especially kids of TV orphans. Blech.

'89 reasons to live.

This is a late Thanksgiving treat, but we had to post it. Trust. We found it via Thighs Wide Shut—it's a two-page retrospective on the 1989 Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, featuring eminently watchable, hugely embarrassing performances by a superhero-molested Melba Moore singing "Holding Out for a Hero" on a Marvel Comics float and Fred Travelena as the Joker singing the gayest version ever of the Anthony Newley hit "The Joker." There are wonderful appearances by such acronyms as ALF and NKOTB, and there are even commercials for "The Golden Girls" and, yes, "Amen." Hiiiiiiiii, Reverend.

Enjoy. And try not to spend the rest of the day downloading this crap. Just try. We dare you.

The good and the bad.

Here's a site where you can hear how the theme song from "The Facts of Life" evolved over the seasons. Our favorite is the first version, only because Charlotte Rae participates in the singin'. The most familiar version is certainly number two. The third version is for those of you who like your "Facts of Life" with a little electric guitah—it goes perfect with Beverly-Ann's awesome 'do.

Totally lost in translation.

The new film, Memoirs of a Geisha, about Japanese geishas played by Chinese actors, is pissing the Asian community off. Well, it's pissing off Asian bloggers. One Japanese blogger (or, jogger) writes...

"We should boycott this film and send a clear message to Hollywood. Why on earth have they made a film making fun of the Japanese, when they cannot get by without us?"

Um. OK.

About Chinese star, Zhang Ziyi, a Chinese blogger (or, chogger) writes...

"She's sold her soul and betrayed her country. Hacking her to death would not be good enough."

Well, we totally agree with that one. That bitch totally fucking ruined March of the Penguins.

Ziyi, meanwhile, had this to say...

"I am really grateful to Rob Marshall for giving us this incredible chance to show the whole world Asian actors' ability. We can do so much more than people think."

Great. She's basically saying Asians are poised to win all our Oscars, just like they won top prizes in national piano competitions when we were 8. Maybe if we'd started playing the piano when we were .5 year old, we could've won. But no, we had other things to do, like learn to breathe. Aren't you people happy with dominating only most of everything? Can't you leave acting alone? Isn't there a Bach Partita you have to learn in five seconds? Jesus.

Comedy sitcom minus com.

Finally! Something less funny than this site! It's about time.

Sharin' the laughter and love.

People! Mark your calendars for February 7, 2006. It's when this will be released:



We totally remember Ben, but who's the other boy?

Pro-choice.

Do not ever say one person can't change the world. YOU can make a difference. Yes, YOU. And you don't even have to move from where you're sitting. Here's how...

Visit this link, and cast your votes for the 32nd Annual People's Choice Awards. You'll be able to influence important decisions in such categories as film, music and TV and and more. And then you'll be able to see whether or not Sandra Bullocks got your vote on Tuesday, January 10, when CBS airs the ceremony.

This is very important work, people. Please, visit the site and do what you have to do to make yourself heard. Can you really afford another year of just sitting back and letting everyone else make the decisions for you? Get busy. Only together can we change the world. It starts with one vote. Your vote.

Theatrical dilemma.

So, here's something:

Next spring, a revival of Richard Greenberg's Three Days of Rain will be produced on the street of dreams, Broadway. It was announced a while back that the revival would star Julia Roberts, which instantly made us –4,000,000% interested in hearing anything more about the show.

Howevah, it has now been announced that Roberts will be joined onstage by a one Mr. Paul Rudd and a one Mr. Bradley Cooper. Gadzooks! Now what do we do? As far as we know, the show is not about the gay, so we can't anticipate any Rudd-on-Cooper action or vice versa. But still. Rudd und Cooper? That's really too much to handle.



So, the question is does a Rudd-Cooper combo cancel out the singular force of awfulness that is Julia Roberts? And, if it does, who will pay for the $3,429 ticket? And if not now, when?

Belated thanks.

Good morning.

We really must thank Dolly Parton, whom we saw in concert for the second time this year Sunday night. When we saw her months ago at Radio City, the show was less than stellar, thanks to a few misguided numbers, a faulty microphone and an outrageously boring costume. We wrote a post about it following the concert. You can search for it if you want. We don't have the time. Or strength.

Anyways, on Monday night, while the show still wasn't as good as it could have been, Dolly made some excellent choices. Instead of a skin-colored outfit, she was in a turquoise and silver sparkly number which nicely showed off her still good-lookin' legs. As well, she got rid of her "Hello, God" encore and instead sang "Imagine." Admittedly, "Imagine" isn't much better, but it's about peace and not God, and we'll take that any day. The wholly unfunny "PMS Blues" was thankfully replaced by the pleasant "Where Have All the Flowers Gone." And, best of all, in between "Tennessee Mountain Home" and "Coat of Many Colors," Dolly added a special treat: a resplendant version of our favorite song from Halos & Horns, "These Old Bones." Quite frankly, it was worth seeing her again just to hear that song. Finally, we wholly enjoyed the gay man running around and yelling "ARREST THAT MAN! ARREST THAT MAN!" upon our departure from the amphitheatre. A concert is not a concert without a screaming queen trying to lay down the law on no one in particular.

All in all, a big improvement over our first Dolly concert experience. Thank you, Dolly. We will always love you. Have some leftover turkey on us. Dol-licious!

Happy Thanksgiving.

Please have a marvelous Thanksgiving, dear readers. And don't count those calories! You're giving thanks—isn't that enough? The NB will return, if all goes according to plan, next Tuesday, November 29. That's one whole week from today. You can give thanks for that at Christmas.

Say hi to the folks for us, and, most of all, enjoy. And if you get lonely, remember there are Craig's Lists for most every major metropolitan area in the country. And if that's not something to be thankful for, what is?

Godspeed.

Thank you, Melanie Griffith.

Of course, we could not give proper thanks without thanking the grandmistress of misguided Web sites, Melanie Griffith. As we've pointed out many times here, melaniegriffith.com often provides us with inspiration, shelter, warmth, guidance and, most of all, strength. We would not be who we are without this woman and her goddess giving, and for that, we are eternally, eternally grateful.



Thank you, Melanie Griffith, for your magical portal to life and love. No matter that the site hasn't been updated since your last life—have some turkey on us, and here's some for Antonio, too. De-mystical!

Thank you, Golden Girls.

Thank you, golden ladies, for taking time out of your busy schedules to sign copies of the "Golden Girls" third season DVD today at the Barnes and Noble in Chelsea. We had an intrepid, drunk reporter there who took these fantastic shots (well, you wouldn't expect us to send anyone INTO a crowd, would you?).









Thank you, ladies, for showing us what true star quality is! Go ahead—have some turkey on us. With a li'l cheesecake on the side. Regards to Coco!

Thank you, Kenny Chesney.

Thanks, guy, for taking Renée Zellweger off our hands. Well, for four months, at least. The thing is, you tried, and that's all anyone can ask of you. What a pleasant four months that was for us all—we think about it, oh, at least seven times a day. Ah. Such tranquility.



That she called you a fraud doesn't matter, Ken. What matters is your taking on such a singular force of nature singlehandedly and living to tell about it. Screw the armed forces—you are a true hero. Thank you. Have some turkey on us, will ya? De-tacular!

Thank you, Lecherous Broads for Clay Aiken.

Thank you, ladies, for this charming series of pics from an 11/20 Clay Aiken concert in Denver. Words cannot describe how these photos make us feel. Alas, perhaps only Clay Aiken himself can illustrate how thankful we are...



Exactly.

Thank you, LBFCA, for continuing to expend energy on a worthy, selfless cause. The world, and this site, would be a sadder place without good people like you. Have some turkey on us, missies. We won't tell your kids. De-Claycious!

Thank you, Broadway.

Ah, street of dreams, how could we leave you off the list? After all, you gave us not one, but two of the most wonderfully excruciating theater experiences of our life: the skeleton- and pirate-filled musical In My Life and, of course, Suzanne Somers's one-woman, one-coat-rack show, The Blonde in the Thunderbird. Usually we'd have to travel to Branson or Reno or Suzanne Somers's living room to see shit like this, but, street of dreams, you brought it to our front door. AND, we didn't have to pay a penny for either, so only our time was wasted, not our finances! We could go on and on and on about these experiences, but better just to say thank you than to relive Suzanne "giving birth" on a La-Z-Boy.

Thank you, Broadway, for ten years' worth of crap in one half-season. Have some turkey on us, if you please. De-Somers-ful!

Thank you, Posh.

We'd like to give great thanks to Mrs. Posh Spice-Beckham for donning what may be our most favorite outfit of the year.



Not only is it, as evidenced by husband Bend It Like Beckham's suit, an outfit for a supposedly formal occasion, it's what Posh chose to wear for her 31st birthday formal occasion. Obviously said occasion was scheduled to end with a sex session (sexssion) at which Posh was scheduled to be too drunk to remove the least bit of clothing. We're with you, Posh—we've always sacrificed dignity for convenience. Always.

Thank you, Posh Spices, for your lovely birthday clothing choice. Have some some turkey on us, mum. De-spicey!

Thank you, Anthony Federov.

Who? you may be asking yourself. Who, indeed. Mr. Federov was a contestant on the last round of "American Idol." He was also the subject of a February 23 post here. The post speculated that, because of a pic of a tank-topped Anthony riding a horse, he's definitely gay.



As well, and because of the aformentioned speculation, the post now has a whopping NB-record-setting 30 comments, mostly along the lines of these two samples:

Anonymous said...

how does he look gay in these pics....he looks f*ckin hott, i dont kno where u see fag, but i can see nerd(big time, but who says nerds r gay?) well i guess that your peoples opinions!

Love Always
iowagirl

Anonymous said...

Oh. My. God. HE IS NOT GAY. YOU only want him to be gay so you can be gay with him!!! YOU ARE SUCH A FAG. SO JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GO FUCK YOUR DAD YOU FRUCK TRUCH. GOD! THAT MAKES ME SO FUCKING MAD!!! ARGH!! I love Anthony, more than you will ever know, so even if he is sparkly club attire that would turn me ON. SO JUST SHUT THE FUCKING HELL UP and quit dissing him, because he rocks my sexy socks off, and you can just go kiss his sexy Ukrainian ASS! AND my natural born Irish ass for all I fucking care! GOD.

Well, needless to say, we l-o-v-e these comments. And we have only the very, very, very gay Anthony Federov to thank for them.

So, thank you, Anthony Federov. You encourage the voice of the masses. For that, why not have some turkey on us? De-luxe!

Thank you, kitties.

Well, how could we give proper, complete thanks without thanking the kitties? Especially the ones who tell us to Hang In There or wear hats to brighten up our day? Oh, kitties, with such actions you quiet the suicidal thoughts in our head and encourage us, in your sly Wilson Phillips way, to hold on for one more day.

Kitties, thank you. You are an inspiration to us all. Have some turkey on us, please. De-lectable!

Thank you, Renée.

The first person we must thank is Philadelphia-area actress extraordinaire (and, as one of you so expertly pointed out, Mary Tyler Moore lookey-likey), Renée Richman-Weisband.



Mrs. Richman-Weisband has filled our gray existence with sparks of life and love and laughter this year, most especially via her video resumé, in which she gives us a little taste of a masterful Peter Pan (amongst others). What's more wonderful than a cosmetically altered, middle-aged Jewish woman bringing out the kid in all of us? We'll tell you what. Nothing. That's what.

So, thank you, Renée. We appreciate it wholeheartedly. Have some turkey on us, would you? De-lightful!

The NB gives thanks.

First of all, we apologize profusely for leaving the "Name Martha's pussy" post as the top post for so long. We had planned to update following said post, but we did not.

Second of all, today, in honor of Thanksgiving and the gale force winds pummeling NYC right now, we're going to let you know what we give thanks for. Not that you asked, of course. For any of this. Alas, we find nothing more rewarding than thanking those who make our lives just a little bit more...well...hopeful. If you have a blog (and who doesn't!), why not join in the festivities and let us know what you're thankful for? Or you can just text us at 1-800-IDOLS-01. The phone lines will open in an hour, and the calls are free. We'd like to thank our friends at Sprint for making this exciting service possible.

Anyway, the first person we'd like to thank, is YOU. You have made the NB the sub-marginal success that it is. Without you, we'd be off the radar completely, much like John-John's doomed Cessna. So, thank you. We appreciate your middling support and below-average attention span. Have some turkey on us, would you? De-licious!

Jellicle poll.

Come on, people...

Name Martha's pussy!

I'm sorry. Miss Jackson?

Broken-hearted ladies, there's finally going to be a TV show just for you to make you feel better about your sad lives. That's right—the show is called "The Ex-Wives Club," on which a trio of celebrity exes will "offer tips on how to cope with broken romances, break-ups and divorces." As well, "the trio will reportedly give financial tips to help dumped women get back on their feet after a split." Now, who comprises the celebrity trio? Well, you'll just have to click on the women holding the giant check to find out because you'd never believe us.

It's perkinning to look a lot like crap.

A free, student-made spoof of "Star Trek," called Star Wreck: In the Perkinning is Finland's top-viewed movie, narrowly beating out the 0 other Finnish movies vying for the title.

Show and tell.

God damn it—we knew we should have grown up in Jersey.

Prisoner of love.

Humor us as we get a li'l bit dorky for a moment won't you?

Besides "Degrassi," "Twin Peaks," "The Office" and "Strangers with Candy," one of our most favoritest TV shows ever is most definitely "The Prisoner." This 1967, 17-episode series concerns a spy who resigns from...yes...spying only to mysteriously end up in a place called The Village, where he is given the name Number Six and held captive from the real world for no given reason. If he tries to escape, he is retrieved by a giant white bouncey ball called Rover, which you may recognize from a 2000 episode of "The Simpsons," on which Homer wakes up in a mysterious village only to be chased by a giant white ball and gassed by such animals as a koala and flamingo.




Anyway...

We've always thought the series, which, admittedly, kind of fell apart at the end, would be fantastic to update with a more sinister and paranoid tone. Apparently, it's going to be done with help from England's Sky One, to which we say, Huzzah! And to which we also say, Please don't fuck it up, mum. Cheerio. As you were.

Uneven Neve.

As we just did a post featuring a one Ms. Love Hewitt, we might as well do one on another ex-"Party of Five" starlet. This time, it's Neve Campbell, and she's up to her shoulders in hilarity as she falls off a bike on the set of a new movie with lots of Indians. And not the maize-eating, give-us-back-our-land kind. The real ones.



Have no fear—we're digging up shit on Lacey Chabert as you read this.

Gay whisperer.

Here are pics from the Power Premiere Awards Honoring 10 Amazing Gay Women in Hollywood, of which Jennifer Love Hewitt is apparently eight. Chad Allen and Kristin Chenoweth seem to make up the other two, of which we would ask, What exactly is going on with Chenoweth here?

Gayface: a history.

A few days ago, we were arguing with a friend about whether or not Bradley Cooper has gayface. She said he did; we said he most assuredly did not and that she was getting gayface confused with hotface. Alas, we sent her this site's history of gayface to illustrate the true nature of gayface, which, then acted as a catalyst for us to come up with a new term for ultra-gayface, represented here by Clay Aiken...



...as "clayface."

Buzz.

"Comforting the foetus" is totally the new euphemism for "pleasuring myself with a vibrator in a movie theater because, as you well know, my pending marriage is a sham."

Assless and wordless.

All right. Boingboing posted this site a week ago, but we had to share in case you didn't see. Besides, how else would you know what we're wearing to Thanksgiving dinner with the family? (Alas, this stuff is probably not safe for viewing at work or anywhere else. Ever.)

The end of week.

Life may not be the French Riviera, but, hey, it's a living! Have a good weekend, friends and lovers. Next week, in honor of the beginning of the slow genocide of the Indians, it will be a short week. Just so you know, and you're not, like, surprised when the same lame post from Tuesday afternoon is up for a week.

Enjoy!