On my way to the Apple Store to get new headphones gratis Apple (the third pair I've gone through in the past six months), I spotted Sophia Coppola pushing her child on the corner of Mercer and Spring. We will now rejoin our regularly scheduled programming.
Viewing entries in
Celebrity
I don't remember who said it or wrote it or where I read it, but I came across something once which stated something to the effect that being recognized by five percent of the population is more public recognition or "fame" than most of us will ever achieve. Of course, the original quote was much more succinct. Thus, just because some people don't appear in your weekly issue of Star, People, or Us Magazine (when I was younger, I used to think it was "U.S. Magazine"), that doesn't mean to me it isn't a celebrity sighting. At Central Park today sitting across from us was a gaggle of people playing bocce. It was like a gathering of Young Comics R Us. In their midst, I spotted Demetri Martin, this other guy that I see all the time on Best Week Ever, and current SNL cast member Fred Armisen.
You can see Demetri in the white t-shirt and the guy that I see all the time on Best Week Ever standing next to him.
Demetri Martin is a pretty hilarious guy:
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qfYspe3yHvM]
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=viw5U7yPxo0]
Walking back from Whole Foods today during lunch (Mango cilantro salad and a mishmash of Indian--What can I say? It was pay day.) I walked past the Don of Hollywood Hipsters aka Mr. Sensitivity aka The Guy Who Daydreams A Lot On Scrubs aka Zach Braff. Predictably he was walking with a gorgeous blond. Maybe they too were headed towards the new grocery mecca of the Lower East Side denizens.
And then I enjoyed my lunch in a nearby park. Afterwards I headed back to the office to make phone calls: the very sort of existence that I imagine Zach might play in a movie. I would title the movie Playground State.
Yesterday on my way to lunch (with Munibhen!) I looked admiringly at this gorgeous woman walking with a friend. It wasn't until she walked by that Munibhen turned to me and said, "Hey, wasn't that--" before we both realized it was Kate Hudson. Kate Hudson. More stunning in person than on the big screen. She couldn't lose me in 10 days. Okay, that sounded stalkerish.
File this report under "Of all the things that matter in this world, this ranks among the least important--right there with the fact my bodega near work is very unfriendly even though I've been going there at least once a day for the past 9 months."
Here's an amusing mash up between Gnarls Barkley's "Crazy" and Britney Spears's "I'm a Slave for U" that's apropos considering Brit's current mental condition. Here's the link to download. (Thanks Monica.)
Knock. Knock. Who's there?
Ex-girlfriend.
Ex-girlfriend who?
Ex-girlfriend with your baby!
Tom Brady's ex-girlfriend, the actress Bridget Moynahan, is apparently pregnant with his baby. He is currently dating Gisele Bundchen. I think she's some model or something?
The recent Britney Spears--the one passing out in clubs, and providing the paparazzi with endless snatch shots--who graduated valedictorian from the Paris Hilton finishing school has apparently matriculated into the Ivies of craziness with her recent choice to look more like the Dalai Lama, Kojak, and GI Jane Demi Moore by shaving her head. When asked about Brit's recent hair shearing, Paris replied, "Bitch is crazy. Even I'm scared of her."
At one point, she used to look like this:
I am Anna Nicole Smith's baby daddy.
I've been reading Gawker since its inception back in the day (the days of then scribe, Elizebeth Spiers) and I always enjoyed its no-holds-barred, gloves off gossiping and trash talking. Of course, Gawker blindly smacks around people who I have no connection with or know on any sort of a personal level, so it was bizarre to read them talk shit about someone who I am friends with. Basically, the NY Observer, which I read incidentally, had a profile on him and this story was like a big fat softball tossed in the air to Gawker.
Anyway, there's no such thing as bad publicity (Quick: Who first said this? Answer without running to Google) and so, for you kiddies obsessed with celebrities, fashion, stylists, and the New York social scene, keep your eyes out for Kristian Laliberte--your next uber stylist/publicist.
After years of hard time partying, drinking, drug use, old man fucking (for "love") and Trim Spa-ing, Anna Nicole Smith died today. In other news: lots of stuff on the front page of the NY Times.
I predict that these three (Andre Leon Talley, Brit and Kimora Lee Simmons) will have a reunion in five years on a little show on VH1 known as Surreal Life.
This is why I love Conan O'Brian over all the other late night hosts, although my old fogie self as of late is finding his show's airing a bit past my bedtime. This is where you whisper, "That's because you're an old man. You're a burden now to our society. Shuffle away and just die." But thanks to the user generated, or rather user recorded content power of YouTube and the near instant gratification that it provides, I was able to view a segment from Thursday night's episode of Conan O'Brian that featured him (in a very special, that is in very especially disturbing costume) in an epic tennis match against tennis great Serena Williams...brought to you by the Nintendo Wii.
I won't spoil the outcome for you, but watching it and seeing just how fun these two were having with the Wii made me decide which to eventually choose between the Nintendo and the Xbox 360.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mhGi0F3ms5w]
So Notorious MSG is performing on Saturday, Feb. 17th at hipster haven Pianos and this rice eating blogger is stoked! I saw them perform with Nick (who nearly started a couple fights that night--good times, Nick! Haha) and Kaizar a while back at the now defunct CBGB. It was a pretty badass show.
Who is The Notorious MSG? The Grey Lady of the Times had a write up about them, unfortunately you have to be a snooty "Times Select" member to see it now, so I'm going to cut-and-paste from their website:
Blasting out of the streets of Chinatown, THE NOTORIOUS MSG have arrived with a vengeance. Serving up deep-fried beats straight from the Chinese ghetto, they will not stop until they achieve complete world domination.
This is the story of three renegade restaurant workers from the hardened streets of Chinatown, New York City. Pursuing their dreams of rap superstardom, Hong Kong Fever, Down-Lo Mein and The Hunan Bomb fled the harsh ghettos of Asia only to face more hardships as second-class citizens in America. They struggled to earn a living, toiling in the kitchens and risking their lives as Chinese restaurant delivery boys. Facing robberies and beatings on a daily basis, their fight for survival came to a head when an unknown assailant killed one of their original band members, Funky Buddha. This was the last straw; it was time to fight back.
Rising up with a fury, the trio were reborn and The Notorious MSG exploded onto the NYC music scene with a new calling. Once only fighting to defend themselves, they renewed their fight, this time for all their brothers and sisters in the Chinatown ghettos who would never get the chance to realize their dreams
Along with hard raps about Mott Street and sensitive ballads to a certain special Dim Sum Girl, they also bring it on stage where soy sauce is imbibed like a 40 and egg rolls are smoked like a blunt.
Anyway, as Tom Cruise said, "Who's coming with me?!" (Tickets are five bucks. Friends, let me know if you are interested.)
So I've been having a lot of John Mayer related conversations around the apartment with my team. The latest is about his inchoate 'relationship' with Jessica Simpson. When this story first blipped on my radar a while back, I was extremely skeptical. It appears that this non matrimonial union between a sensitive mainstream-indie crooner and ditz-extraordinaire is actually a bonafide situation.
Like most celebrity couples, I'm sure this will all end up badly...but that's okay because these two are artists and will no doubt use the ensuing break up as fodder for new material. In the meantime, I eagerly await John Mayer's ode to Jessica Simpson. The title of this soon to be released song: "Your Body Is The Best Wonderland. Ever. Especially Around The Nipplage Area."
Here's Diddy eyeing Jessica Biel's ratatattat's. Based on this photo, I guess it's apropos that Diddy has double D's in his name. Can't blame him though, she does look quite stuntastic.
Lindsay Lohan has great, GREAT eyes.
I went to a meet-and-greet session thrown by the New York Knicks to give its season ticket holding fans an opportunity to meet the players. I was able to go and along with enjoying the open bar and snacks there, I also got some photos taken with some of the players. However, I was decidedly unhappy about the complete lack of groupies there. What sort of groupies? Like these:
Instead, the crowd mainly looked like this:
Anyway.
Stephon Marbury was wearing silly amounts of white bling that night. Damn. Blinding.
My favorite Knicks player is probably this dude, David Lee. He's got hustle out there on the court.
And a blast from the past was there as well: JOHN MOTHAFUCKIN STARKS, YA'LL.
And the iPHONE was there!! Okay, it wasn't, but I've just been thinking about it a LOT. iPhone. iWant.
I'm sorry ya'll that I don't have some vomit inducing link or an uber-dorky bit of techie news to share with you here as of late--the extent that I web surf lately is a quick glance at the front page of NYTimes.com and its "Most E-Mailed List" (Your mom is up there by the way). I'm going to make a TERRIBLE analogy here (and I'll likely burn in hell for saying it), but like the firefighters of 9/11, I was putting out fires all day at work.
Tonight I worked at another Fashion Week event--and this one featured some heavy celebrity hitters. Winonna Ryder walked right past me--and then again when she left (all under mild bodyguard and publicist cover). And for the first time, I actually saw what a clusterfuck the whole paparazzi culture is and how blinding it must be for celebrities as the fotogs shove their cameras with huge bulbs right in their faces. I was a couple feet away from all the pops of the cameras, but even my eyes were seeing spots for a bit after she walked by. And some of the fotogs are downright rude--Calling her "shoplifter." "....cast the first stone."
I also saw Lil' Kim walk out after the show; again I was only a few feet away from these sightings. Basically, Lil' Kim is a midget. To understand the difference between a midget and a dwarf, I suggest you watch the BBC Office. It's explained in one of the episodes incredibly succintely.
And then I saw Mischa Barton--the true Queen B? (Aw hell no, says Lil Kim)--and Mischa definitely edged out Lil' Kim for the most explosive paparazzi reaction. But this one fotog I was standing next to was cussing out everyone, "They're going nuts for this slutbag? Fuck!" Apparently, some unnamed celebrity used Mischa's exit to make their own quieter departure (rumor was that it was Sharapova) and this was the celebrity that this cussing papo was trying to get a photo of.
No, I didn't take photos.
Anyway.
I love my work--it's not sexy, despite what it may appear reading above, and while I recognize every job involves its share of cleaning up shit, I would have to say that currently, at my job and field, I have never enjoyed cleaning up shit more than now. I definitely feel like I'm kicking ass and taking names here.
Also, I just got offered a job to work part-time at a new hip clothing store in Soho so I'll be working there on weekends--Gotta make the dough, ya know (Hey, that rhymed!).
My boss sent out an email a few days ago saying that our company's PR firm had some tickets available for this year's tennis US Open launch party to be held at Crobar. Hell yea, I want to go!
Of course when I got there around 9:30ish (the earliest I've ever shown up to a club), there was already a mad number of people crowding the door.
There was actually a red carpet.
Tennis fan holding a giant tennis...ball...hoping to get it signed by the pros.
Amazingly, when I told the clipboard bitch that I was on the list, she confirmed and let me in without a hitch. I only waited near the front with the rest of the mini-skirts and douchebags for about five minutes. Easy peasy.
Yea, and I got to walk the carpet. ... No I didn't. Inside Crobar, they had all sorts of visual party favors--some good and some disturbing--including this mock up, where the not-so-famous (like me) can pose in front of the red carpet backdrop.
Yes, we get it. This is a tennis party.
It took me about an hour before I realized that these four models were actually two sets of twins.
Some non-alcoholic drink that they were sampling at the party. I myself, did a lot of sampling of the Grey Goose at the open bar.
You can ask this bartender, if you don't believe me. Thanks dude for all those sweet vodka tonics and beers--all the more sweeter because my wallet stayed in ma' back pocket.
Finally ran into my co-workers. R getting his white boy groove ON. He also dropped his drink about ten times.
So they had all these various models in ridiculous scenarios all over the club, including this flasher.
EEEEEK.
Afterwards, we got...gift bags!! The VIP bags were amazing--I shared an elevator with a guy who was delivering three of them to a company on my floor (the VIP bags had Trivia Pursuit--The '80s!) and he showed me the goodies in those bags.
My gift bag items:
There was a box of godiva chocolates but I ate those on the subway last night going home before passing out.
Energy bar.
Water bottle.
Sandals.
Uh, a figurine from South African Airlines.
Tanning spray.
American Apparel tank top. It's a girl's size large. If any large lady wants this, drop me a line.
Bottle opener.
Some gift card that's going straight to the trash (like most of the stuff)
Christina Whorilera's new album. It's the ish. Pretty damn good.
Listerine.
Gym membership.
Uh, a gift certificate to a place in...Tampa. No thanks.
OH, although I did not get a picture, the only celebrity I saw was Tyrese looking ridiculous (or as ridiculous as ridiculously good looking people can look) with a PDiddy mohawk with a hair fork sticking out the back of it.
99 percent of you are either not going to have any idea who I'm talking about or care for that matter, but today when I was walking to get lunch, I walked past this guy:
Mark Hunter aka the Cobra Snake (his ingenue muse is behind him by the trash--a telling juxtaposition?) He goes to these hyper-hipster parties and takes party photos, which he posts on his website. He seemed surprise when I said as I walked by "Great photos man." And as we paused at the stoplight, he then passed me a sticker and then I asked him if I could take a photo (result above). From Wired:
Los Angeles-based Hunter may be the first person to make a living off a photoblog. He started a year and a half ago by sneaking into clubs with his point-and-shoot digicam to document the night's drunken festivities. Then he uploaded his photos to TheCobrasnake.com, for everyone to snicker at the next morning. It was easy to garner buzz when shooting the likes of Paris and Nicky Hilton, Beck, Johnny Knoxville, Andr� 3000, Jack Black, and Jarvis Cocker. Soon his pics were showing up in the LA Weekly, and companies showered him with schwag and party invites ("I'm a marketing genius," he says). He has plied his trade at the South by Southwest music fest, the launch party for Sony's PlayStation Portable, and even the NME music awards in London (with hefty stipends to cover travel, of course).
TheCobrasnake.com is as self-consciously crude as its proprietor's fashion sense, with childish illustrations and hundreds of pictures dumped onto pages without annotation. "I don't like futzing. If the photo doesn't look good, I don't mess with it in Photoshop," Hunter tells me. The amateurish look is all part of his brand. It's won him a book deal, and he's taking meetings with the producers of The Real World and The Simple Life, who are planning a reality show about him. But he still hasn't hit the big time - he can't afford a car, and he had to go on Extreme Makeover to get the Lasik eye surgery he wanted.