This would have been an episode of The Osbournes worthy of the TiVo. Ozzy and Sharon had their fuckin’ mansion in Buckinghamshire knocked off by some daft punk. Despite the fact that Oz tackled the brute, he reportedly escaped by jumping out of a window 30 feet above the ground of the £5-million mansion. Off he went with such things as a 24-carat sapphire, a 10-carat diamond, a passel of pave diamonds, a South Sea pearl necklace with diamond clasp. . .and other assorted knickknacks valued at some £2-million. Think on that for a moment: The whole fucking pile of bricks (I now realize that I’ve not been using the fucking word “fucking” a sufficient number of times here such that you’ll get the fucking sense that this is fucking authentic) is valued at £5 mil and the fucking cutpurse walked off with £2 mil. All I can say is: fuck me, that’s a lot of fuckin’ bling.
The War is on, boys. And back on the home front, we must do everything we can to support the effort. In a moving display of patriotic moxie, GLONO Records’ own Quasar Wut-Wut pulled out all the stops for a local extravaganza that left no girl’s dance card unfilled and united the Flyboys, Swabs, Dog faces, and Jarheads for a night before shipping out.
The Letters of Gary Benchley, Rock Star: Benchley Athletic – Prepare for total catastrophe as the singer in the band who’s dating the co-worker starts fucking the band’s drummer on the side…and working out at a gym.
There I was—crouched on the floor of Maxwell’s, the famous bar and club adorning Washington Street in Hoboken—imitating the “Shout!” scene from Animal House with 300 others while Colin Meloy directed from the stage.
The White Devil is not an innocent man. But I believe him when he denies bribing those city commissioners, mostly because his line about Sanford’s crappy cooking was a classic. And that means someone’s setting Caleb up, and I’ll bet you Tate Donovan’s beard she’s got Gucci nameplates nestled between her fakies. Julie Cooper can’t stand what the Cohens have – heart – so like any villainous soap opera bitch, she’s determined to destroy them. Cue the steely-eyed glares, eavesdropped conversations, and clammy Machiavellian handshakes.
Iron Man. . .or Is That Goldfinger?
