shrimpjaw (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} shrimpjaw) wrote,@ 2006-03-22 23:07:00 |
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Gina Gershon is a Pro, Jessica Alba has an Octogina.
It's time for Shrimpjaw to level with you, loyal shrimpfans. Sometimes he doesn't even know why he continues to write these articles. Sure, they're read and admired by countless million of people the world over, but that's not much of a consolation. After all, it's not like any of you actually get one millionth of one percent of the mind-breakingly brilliant things we write in each installment. Plus, we have to deal with the tons and tons of unintelligible fan mail we receive every day. I don't mean "deal with" in the sense that we read them. Perish the thought. If we actually had to go through and read every piece of crude, crayon scribbled, barbecue sauce covered praise, we would have to put a gun to our sultry temple and pull the trigger. The bullet wouldn't kill us, of course, but the sight of it ricocheting off our of our head and bouncing around the gold and emerald encrusted walls might help to distract us from the pain brought on by your collective ineptitude. No, we don't write this for you. We write this because Shrimpjaw is the only being on this planet with the brains, brawn, charm, good looks, and unbelievably massive penis to adequately applaud or eviscerate those celebrities who please or displease us. Long live Shrimpjaw the Impeccable! May his reign be amaranthine!
Who here remembers Gina Gershon? No one? She was that vaguely mannish chick that was in "Showgirls" and "Face/Off". Still drawing a blank? Come on, she dated Lenny Kravitz! Shrimpjaw is guessing that she was the inspiration for his number one single "Untalented Pitbull Woman". That song is fucking catchy. At any rate, Gershon has held up production of her latest sitcom "Ugly Betty" over a pair of $650 shoes. Apparently Gina went apeshit over the shoes, and now she refuses to sign her contract unless the producers let her keep her wardrobe. It's good to know that the entertainment industry is just bursting at the seams with outstanding displays of professionalism such as this. After all, why should Gershon, who has presumably made millions of dollars off of her film and television career, be forced to purchase a pair of shoes she could easily afford on her own? Those big wigs obviously don't know who they're dealing with. They might feel differently after they have to reckon with the awe-inspiring power of the woman behind the blockbuster hits "Bound" and "Kettle of Fish". Yeah, we're sure that ABC will cave under the pressure any day now. On the other hand, Shrimpjaw has a little bit of experience in these matters, as we've dealt with a similar situation. See, one night Shrimpjaw was having a bit of insomnia. So, we rolled over the six or seven models currently occupying our bed (April through October in Playboy's 2006 calendar) and decided to take a stroll around the compound. We were just passing the Waste Treatment Plant when we heard some rustling coming from one of the larger dumpsters. Thinking it might be Mascella, Shrimpjaw went in for a closer look. To our surprise we found Oscar the janitor waist deep in refuse, pocketing half eaten hors douvres which we assume he was bringing back to his hovel in order to feed his equally impoverished family. Seeing the plight he was in, Shrimpjaw struck upon a brilliant charitable idea. Not only would we let Oscar keep the few measly crackers he was holding, we would let him keep all of our garbage. That is why we had the Shrimpjaw Waste Management team unload 8,456 cubic feet of garbage directly on top of Oscar's aforementioned hovel. Never again did he steal as much as a crumb. So, ABC, the next time Gina causes unnecessary delays over the quality of the craft services table or whatever, just know that all you need in order to solve your problems is a bulldozer, a metric ton of trash, and the location of her trailer. It's the only way she'll ever learn.
Jessica Alba is a prude, plain and simple. In a recent interview with the LA Daily News Alba claims, "They want you to take off your clothes all the time (for roles) when you're younger. I won't do that." Way to go, Jessica. It's only taken you about twelve years to figure out that it isn't your winning personality that's been landing you all of your roles. We would have thought that, what with your whole bout with anorexia and all, that you already had a pretty good understanding of what Hollywood was looking for. Hell, you should be down on your shapely knees thanking show biz for being so overtly superficial. If it wasn't, Shrimpjaw is pretty sure that you would be flipping burgers in San Benito county. Besides, exactly what is it you have to offer other than your looks? Perhaps your Masters degree in, oh wait, you gave up schooling after high school to fully devote yourself to "acting", right? How convenient. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure your PADI certification in scuba diving helped you out immensely in "Into the Blue", that is, whenever you weren't too busy being eye fucked by fellow Rhodes scholar Paul Walker. But wait, Jessica had more to say, "I'll leave the slutty girl to other people. And I'll play the sweet, moral girlfriend who believes in love - roles that are more interesting than playing a vixen." Sorry, how could we forget about all of your sweet, moral roles? What was your character in Sin City? A nun? A social worker? Oh, she was a stripper? Our bad. The only logical conclusion that Shrimpjaw can reach is that Alba's private parts must be a virtual gallery of fucked up grotesqueries. Yeah, we're guessing that her V-town must look like an inside-out octopus that's been run over by a semi and then stuck full of tiny pictures of Gorecki. We attempted to get Machoire to verify our findings, but she was much too busy trying to extinguish the massive fire that she started while running some tests on the particle accelerator. She's still learning the ropes of her new position. However, she wasn't too busy for a quick romp in the Shrimp-hay (no woman ever is).
Pete Doherty doesn't know how to do a great many things. In fact, he's pretty much whittled down his available skills to doing drugs, playing in a shitty band, and being arrested (for doing drugs). However, we here at Shrimpjaw could care less about Pete's limited abilities, as the few he does possess provide us with countless hours of entertainment. For example, celebrity interviews are usually a mundane experience. Sure, every once and a while they're going to say something stupid (or, if they're Chris Kline, every time they say anything), but typically all you're going to get is a painfully dull description of said celebrity's latest pet project/peeve. Not so with good old Pete Doherty, as evidenced by his latest interview with Rolling Stone reporter Mark Binelli. First off, this interview didn't take place in a tastefully decorated loft overlooking Time Square, nor did it occur at a secluded booth in some posh restaurant on Santa Monica Boulevard. No, this interview took place in, as the New York Post describes it, a "ramshackle drug den in Hackney, England." For those of you not up on your British geography (you know who you are), Hackney is one of the poorest and most crime-filled boroughs in London, so it's good to know that the interview took place in surroundings that Pete finds familiar and comforting. Shrimpjaw would tell you what Doherty said during the interview, except for two things:
1). We don't know because we didn't actually read it.
2). Who the fuck cares? It's Pete Doherty, let's get to the drugs already. Fuck!
Very well then. According to the article, over the course of the three hour interview, Doherty would both snort and inject heroin (he apparently didn't have enough to use his preferred method, filling the closet full of heroin and then locking himself inside until every last, delicious bit had been pulled into his body via osmosis.) He would also take ecstasy, and (Shrimpjaw's personal favorite) smoke crack. These three drugs are known collectively by Doherty as "breakfast, lunch, and dinner." Or perhaps Pete was doing drugs for a higher purpose. In his state he probably thought that he was going for the gold medal in the drug triathalon, a lesser known event in the Commonwealth Games. Christ, is it even possible for Pete Doherty to become any more amazing? The guy has body destroying, illegal chemicals flowing through his frail body every second of every day, and not only is he not dead, he's not even in jail. Quite the contrary, he's the front man of a mildly successful rock and roll band and is being interviewed for Rolling Stone magazine. You heard it here, kids. If you want to truly become successful stop going to those D.A.R.E. classes and start snorting lines behind the monkey bars. You'll thank us when you're older (if you're not dead, that is).
It's time for Shrimpjaw to level with you, loyal shrimpfans. Sometimes he doesn't even know why he continues to write these articles. Sure, they're read and admired by countless million of people the world over, but that's not much of a consolation. After all, it's not like any of you actually get one millionth of one percent of the mind-breakingly brilliant things we write in each installment. Plus, we have to deal with the tons and tons of unintelligible fan mail we receive every day. I don't mean "deal with" in the sense that we read them. Perish the thought. If we actually had to go through and read every piece of crude, crayon scribbled, barbecue sauce covered praise, we would have to put a gun to our sultry temple and pull the trigger. The bullet wouldn't kill us, of course, but the sight of it ricocheting off our of our head and bouncing around the gold and emerald encrusted walls might help to distract us from the pain brought on by your collective ineptitude. No, we don't write this for you. We write this because Shrimpjaw is the only being on this planet with the brains, brawn, charm, good looks, and unbelievably massive penis to adequately applaud or eviscerate those celebrities who please or displease us. Long live Shrimpjaw the Impeccable! May his reign be amaranthine!
Who here remembers Gina Gershon? No one? She was that vaguely mannish chick that was in "Showgirls" and "Face/Off". Still drawing a blank? Come on, she dated Lenny Kravitz! Shrimpjaw is guessing that she was the inspiration for his number one single "Untalented Pitbull Woman". That song is fucking catchy. At any rate, Gershon has held up production of her latest sitcom "Ugly Betty" over a pair of $650 shoes. Apparently Gina went apeshit over the shoes, and now she refuses to sign her contract unless the producers let her keep her wardrobe. It's good to know that the entertainment industry is just bursting at the seams with outstanding displays of professionalism such as this. After all, why should Gershon, who has presumably made millions of dollars off of her film and television career, be forced to purchase a pair of shoes she could easily afford on her own? Those big wigs obviously don't know who they're dealing with. They might feel differently after they have to reckon with the awe-inspiring power of the woman behind the blockbuster hits "Bound" and "Kettle of Fish". Yeah, we're sure that ABC will cave under the pressure any day now. On the other hand, Shrimpjaw has a little bit of experience in these matters, as we've dealt with a similar situation. See, one night Shrimpjaw was having a bit of insomnia. So, we rolled over the six or seven models currently occupying our bed (April through October in Playboy's 2006 calendar) and decided to take a stroll around the compound. We were just passing the Waste Treatment Plant when we heard some rustling coming from one of the larger dumpsters. Thinking it might be Mascella, Shrimpjaw went in for a closer look. To our surprise we found Oscar the janitor waist deep in refuse, pocketing half eaten hors douvres which we assume he was bringing back to his hovel in order to feed his equally impoverished family. Seeing the plight he was in, Shrimpjaw struck upon a brilliant charitable idea. Not only would we let Oscar keep the few measly crackers he was holding, we would let him keep all of our garbage. That is why we had the Shrimpjaw Waste Management team unload 8,456 cubic feet of garbage directly on top of Oscar's aforementioned hovel. Never again did he steal as much as a crumb. So, ABC, the next time Gina causes unnecessary delays over the quality of the craft services table or whatever, just know that all you need in order to solve your problems is a bulldozer, a metric ton of trash, and the location of her trailer. It's the only way she'll ever learn.
Jessica Alba is a prude, plain and simple. In a recent interview with the LA Daily News Alba claims, "They want you to take off your clothes all the time (for roles) when you're younger. I won't do that." Way to go, Jessica. It's only taken you about twelve years to figure out that it isn't your winning personality that's been landing you all of your roles. We would have thought that, what with your whole bout with anorexia and all, that you already had a pretty good understanding of what Hollywood was looking for. Hell, you should be down on your shapely knees thanking show biz for being so overtly superficial. If it wasn't, Shrimpjaw is pretty sure that you would be flipping burgers in San Benito county. Besides, exactly what is it you have to offer other than your looks? Perhaps your Masters degree in, oh wait, you gave up schooling after high school to fully devote yourself to "acting", right? How convenient. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure your PADI certification in scuba diving helped you out immensely in "Into the Blue", that is, whenever you weren't too busy being eye fucked by fellow Rhodes scholar Paul Walker. But wait, Jessica had more to say, "I'll leave the slutty girl to other people. And I'll play the sweet, moral girlfriend who believes in love - roles that are more interesting than playing a vixen." Sorry, how could we forget about all of your sweet, moral roles? What was your character in Sin City? A nun? A social worker? Oh, she was a stripper? Our bad. The only logical conclusion that Shrimpjaw can reach is that Alba's private parts must be a virtual gallery of fucked up grotesqueries. Yeah, we're guessing that her V-town must look like an inside-out octopus that's been run over by a semi and then stuck full of tiny pictures of Gorecki. We attempted to get Machoire to verify our findings, but she was much too busy trying to extinguish the massive fire that she started while running some tests on the particle accelerator. She's still learning the ropes of her new position. However, she wasn't too busy for a quick romp in the Shrimp-hay (no woman ever is).
Pete Doherty doesn't know how to do a great many things. In fact, he's pretty much whittled down his available skills to doing drugs, playing in a shitty band, and being arrested (for doing drugs). However, we here at Shrimpjaw could care less about Pete's limited abilities, as the few he does possess provide us with countless hours of entertainment. For example, celebrity interviews are usually a mundane experience. Sure, every once and a while they're going to say something stupid (or, if they're Chris Kline, every time they say anything), but typically all you're going to get is a painfully dull description of said celebrity's latest pet project/peeve. Not so with good old Pete Doherty, as evidenced by his latest interview with Rolling Stone reporter Mark Binelli. First off, this interview didn't take place in a tastefully decorated loft overlooking Time Square, nor did it occur at a secluded booth in some posh restaurant on Santa Monica Boulevard. No, this interview took place in, as the New York Post describes it, a "ramshackle drug den in Hackney, England." For those of you not up on your British geography (you know who you are), Hackney is one of the poorest and most crime-filled boroughs in London, so it's good to know that the interview took place in surroundings that Pete finds familiar and comforting. Shrimpjaw would tell you what Doherty said during the interview, except for two things:
1). We don't know because we didn't actually read it.
2). Who the fuck cares? It's Pete Doherty, let's get to the drugs already. Fuck!
Very well then. According to the article, over the course of the three hour interview, Doherty would both snort and inject heroin (he apparently didn't have enough to use his preferred method, filling the closet full of heroin and then locking himself inside until every last, delicious bit had been pulled into his body via osmosis.) He would also take ecstasy, and (Shrimpjaw's personal favorite) smoke crack. These three drugs are known collectively by Doherty as "breakfast, lunch, and dinner." Or perhaps Pete was doing drugs for a higher purpose. In his state he probably thought that he was going for the gold medal in the drug triathalon, a lesser known event in the Commonwealth Games. Christ, is it even possible for Pete Doherty to become any more amazing? The guy has body destroying, illegal chemicals flowing through his frail body every second of every day, and not only is he not dead, he's not even in jail. Quite the contrary, he's the front man of a mildly successful rock and roll band and is being interviewed for Rolling Stone magazine. You heard it here, kids. If you want to truly become successful stop going to those D.A.R.E. classes and start snorting lines behind the monkey bars. You'll thank us when you're older (if you're not dead, that is).
