Your All-Earthquake Special Edition:
· A shared traumatic experience provides thousands of deeply moving stories: This one, about the crew of an online horoscope show comforting each other in their not-quite-darkest hour, is one of them. [theCosmosGal's YouTube page]
· LAist has some great security footage of a bicycle store in San Dimas doing the earthquake shuffle. We'd probably be tossing kids and grandmas out of the way to get the hell out of there, too. [LAist]
· "Where was I when it hit? Oh, I was in stirrups with my gynecologist's hands in my vagina. What about you?" [Twitter]
· We must commend the LAT for being so quick on their slideshow-compiling feet: Here's a tribute to Earthquakes in the Movies. Ah yes, who could forget NBC's 10.5, and its sequel 10.5 Apocalypse—both of which registered about a 10.5 in the scientifically-shaky-ground department. [LAT]
· CEILING TILE DOWN. WE REPEAT: CEILING TILE DOWN. [Curbed LA]

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It's always a hoot when you show up to an audition thinking you're just trying out for another straight-to-DVD horror remake, only to find out afterwards that you just emoted all your talents in front of a titan of the porn industry. In yet another display of complete parental ignorance, Dina Lohan's decision to send Lindsay-wannabe Ali on a journey to score a part in Troll in this weekend's season finale of Living Lohan was kind of equivalent to sending your 14-year old daughter on a read-through of Bun Busters 13 or Breast Wishes 15. Yes, Ali's eager efforts to make it big in showbiz has officially included a smiley "nerve-wracking" experience reciting classic lines like "Ratburgers!" in front of the multi-coloured hair piece-topped Peter Davy, responsible for discovering gangbang queen Houston, among many other hardcore accomplishments. The clip, including Ali's stomach-tightening attempt to impress the porn industry professionals, after the jump.

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Gordon Ramsay, the celebrity chef and television identity that the Australian media likes to remind us is pretty sweary, has probably put a few extra dollars tenners fifties in the swear jar after his former best friend, mentee and bloke-whose-wedding-he-was-best-man-at decided to open up and give Ramsay what for.

For what, we are still not particularly sure.

His most famous protege and former close friend Marcus Wareing described him as a "sad bastard" whose influence had left him feeling, "trapped and constrained".

[...]

Wareing's comments follow a bitter legal battle over his position running Ramsay's two-star restaurant Petrus at the Berkeley Hotel in West London.

He has spent nine years heading up the kitchen, but in May the hotel announced it wanted to work directly with him, rather than deal with Ramsay's company. The move has been challenged by Ramsay's lawyers.

Wareing now claims he would rather "kill myself" than work with his mentor again.

Then again, though our constant use of the cuddlesome photo of Ramsay draped with a widdle baby sheepy is our feeble attempt to stop the Ramsay coverage from being too nasty, it's probably all true - and he probably slit the lamb's throat right after the photoshoot and then tossed it on a hot plate.

A disturbing revelation has come to light today about Swing Vote, Kevin Costner's election-year opus about the alcoholic schlub on whose shoulders the entirety of presidential politics rests via some fluke of electoral nature. It's about as disappointing as its midsummer dumping implies, writes NY Post critic Lou Lumenick, but that hardly seems as unexpected as his observation that the whole film rips off is an "uncredited remake" of a 1939 John Barrymore film called The Great Man Votes:

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After a considerable number of question marks hung over the head of local celebreality franchise Dancing With The Stars, it's good to see that the "popular light entertainment program" (now that's a genre title to aspire to if ever there was one!) seems to have gotten its collective shit together and announced its latest cast of stumbling quick-stepping notables - and, in a shocking move, it actually contains stars!

Sort of!

Dancing ... contestants (pictured left to right, back to front) Charli Delaney, Toni Pearen, Danny Green, Jodi Gordon, Brooke Hanson, Paul Licuria, Cal Wilson, Luke Jacobz, James Tobin and Red Symons.

They still have not announced a replacement for retired host Daryl Somers, but - according to the article - Fifi Box and Andrew O'Keefe are "in the mix". I'm still pinning my hopes on Larry Emdur, but anything will be better than Somers' constant dad jokes and mugging.

Ah, the buzz cut: that sometimes-risky, sometimes-successful 'do usually sported by male celebrities when it's required for a role in a military/secret agent/futuristic film or because they need a quick way to change their public image. But no matter what their reasons are for taking the razor to the scalp, the look has roughly a 50/50 chance of working. Two of the most recent stars to shave it all off are Jennifer Aniston arm candy John Mayer and new member of the Movie Press-Generating Lawbreakers' Club Josh Brolin, and while Mayer irritatingly manages to pull the look off despite his big head ego, Brolin's close cut reveals a bit too much skin. Which immediately made us reminisce on buzz cuts of the past, both the bad (Hey, Jude), the good (pre-Scientology Tommy C.), and the very ugly (Attack Of The Killer Umbrella-Bearers):

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And our Concealed Weapon Charge of the Day award goes to foreign comedy treasure Jerry Lewis, 82, who was found to be carrying an unregistered handgun at the Detroit airport today. Lewis's manager Claudia Marghilano later explained it was a "a hollowed-out prop gun" that Lewis "sometimes twirls" before weepy dollar-store runs. [AP]

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Look, I know it's never big nor cool to mock the afflicted, and I'm sure Winegums' whole "OMG rushed to hospital" ordeal was, like, totally nail-biting, but I couldn't help but laugh at dad Mitch Winehouse's apparent exclamations to the crowd that gathered as Amy was being poured into the ambulance the other day, because, well, you'll work it out:

Distraught Mitch, 54, was heard shouting: "She's f***** up, she's f***** up," The Sun newspaper in England reported.

You know, I'm starting to worry that covering Winegums Watch is desensitising me; I think the signs are there - the other day I bit the head off a fluffy kitten and spat it in the face of some children suffering from incurable diseases, and all I wanted to do afterwards was body shots. Then I punched a hole in the side of a church collections box and spent the money on Mad Magazine. What the hell is happening to me?

As you may recall, Strokes guitarist Albert Hammond, Jr. pulled out of his solo Australian visit just the other day, citing a "severe throat infection" that had rendered him mute. Unlike most "we're too sick to visit" tour cancellations, one would imagine that Hammond, Jr. was telling the truth - but the British tabloids perhaps tell another tale!

The lanky guitarist and singer was yesterday spotted out and about with his GF, model Agyness Deyn, and they don't seem to be using sign language, if you know what I mean!

Here's hoping what's really happening in that photo is Agyness staring off into the middle distance and wishing he'd stayed in bed rather than valiantly trying to walk the dog with her, while Albert tries to croak out a few words - we like him too much for this to be another "But the plane trip is too loooong!" cases for an Australian tour no-show.

After having a go at Madonna and then getting reasonably good reviews for his Glasto performance, expat Aussie Sam Sparro has decided it's time to make the jump to plaid: he's going to work with Lindsay "Remember, She Had A Career Once, You Know, Before She Made Leggings With Kneepads" Lohan.

No word on whether he will wear that ridiculous top hat while he's doing it.

"Working with Lindsay is an interesting proposition. I've always been a big fan and I think she's cool," said Sparro, currently riding high on the music charts with his single Black and Gold.

"I've never met Samantha Ronson but I have met her dad and her sister Charlotte when I was working with Mark at Coachella. They are a great family.

"I'll be heading over to Los Angeles and New York in a couple of weeks to start writing for Lindsay and a few other artists. I'm really excited."

So, er, go Aussie!

ED: You know, there are times where Clem and yours truly don't agree, and this looks like one of them. Although my beloved Bastow may hate Sam Sparro's single, I wish to speak up and say I fucking love Black & Gold, and I am quite thrilled he'll be working with Lindsay. CLEM YOU ARE WRONG PLEASE UPDATE YOUR OPINION x

To your left is a never-before-seen (even by Facefuck friends!) photo of your Editor giggling idiotically while soaking up the windy, freezing view from Paekakariki Hill.

Dear readers, I was not going to talk much about my time in Noo Zulland (spucuffically, Wullingten) now that I am back in Australia, but I did want to tell you about my time at the national museum watching the most messed up, insane, oddly violent, and incredibly hilarious indoctrination video about all things Kiwi - but I couldn't find the words. Thankfully, former housemate Born Dancin' (mentioned here) has done it for me.

The morning after arrival I catch up with my old housemate Jess, whose dad lives in W-town. We meet out the front of Te Papa Tongarewa, the fancy new Wellington museum. Normally I avoid museums on whirlwind trips because they're full of things that actual locals don't have any connection with, often from countries other than the one you happen to be visiting. But I'd heard that this one had an earthquake simulator so I had to pop in.

The earthquake simulator was rubbish - a tiny weatherboard room done up like a crappy house that shook disinterestedly for about five seconds. I can accurately conjure up the experience for any Melburnian through the following two words: a tram. And not even one going around a corner, just a tram going at a reasonable pace on a flat stretch.

On the way in, though, we noticed a sign referring to a section called "Golden Days", which was described as "The Junk Shop that Comes Alive!" Being both a fan of junk shops and life, I was intrigued.

I don't recall the exact wording of the sign outside the exhibit itself, but it was something along the lines of CONTAINS NEW ZEALAND HUMOUR WHICH MAY NOT TRANSLATE. GRAPHIC SCENES NOT SUITABLE FOR THOSE UNDER 15. Well bang my gavel and consider me sold.

The Golden Days 'experience' goes for about 17 minutes. But as Jess said about five minutes in, it felt like someone was about to rush in and prop our eyes open with matchsticks and force us to endure this unspeakably horrific act of mind-fucking until our heads exploded (I am paraphrasing).

Here's a quick rundown of my interior commentary.

1 minute: Oh how quaint we are walking through ye olde shoppe of Kiwi antiques and bric-a-brac from the Golden Days which give this thing its name. Luverly. And now we enter a room with some comfy couches and lots more old crap.

2 minutes: Now that I am seated in one such comfy chair I notice that the video projection behind the crap is probably the focal point of this show. Judging by its image of a street scene, it appears we are supposed to be sitting inside an old antique shop which is being closed up by an old man as an old grandfather clock strikes five. Got it. Although that is an early closing time.

3 minutes: My goodness, after gramps has tottered off the opp shop comes alive! By which I mean the grandfather clock starts speeding up and a few antique items are jiggling about in a really unexciting manner (could be an earthquake, then). Ah, an album of faded photos has flicked open and obviously we are going back in time or somesuch nonsense.

5 minutes: What are these projected video images supposed to mean? This couple are lugging a baby around town and occasionally we see random sequences of historical footage. There's no connection between the original scenes and the found material.

6 minutes: Sweet Jesus this is becoming a Dadaist nightmare. There are ships going to battle. And then there are Olympians. And then there are earthquakes. CONTEXT PLEASE?

7 minutes: The baby is being walked by a young mother and another man appears with a video camera and the baby is violently pushed into the camera's lens.

8 minutes: And now there is a cow being gutted and its innards spill out.

9 minutes: Scenes of war and cheese-making.

10 minutes: And now there is a man stepping over a fence and being electrocuted in the gonads.

11 minutes: And the baby is back unharmed but the couple are holding it out over the edge of a ten-storey building. And a couple are getting married in a TV soap.

12 minutes: A bunch of 1700s English colonialists are demanding entry to New Zealand and a Maori leader is denying them their visa and then holding up an anti-nuclear sticker and there is canned laughter.

13 minutes: THERE ARE MACHINEGUNS HIDDEN IN THE CABINET WHICH ARE FIRING DIRECTLY AT US.

14 minutes: THE MACHINEGUNS ARE BACK AND NOW THEY ARE KILLING A MANNEQUIN AND

15 minutes: DEAR NEW ZEALAND I'M SORRY IF I SAID ANYTHING UNTOWARD AND I PROMISE I'LL DO WHATEVER YOU SAY FROM NOW ON JUST PLEASE, PLEASE MAKE IT END OR AT LEAST GIVE ME A VOICEOVER OR SOME HINTS AS TO WHAT THE HICK IS GOING ON

16 minutes: HOW WILL I GET HOME RACHEL? HOW WILL I GET HOOOOOME?

17 minutes: Oh, it's over. Well, that was unusual.

You can read the rest of our adventures here (including our time being embraced by Wellington's gay community, god love them to bits). Just for history's sake, let me say that Senor Born Dancin' is one of the greatest housemates you could ever hope to live with, and getting to frolic around New Zealand with him reminded me of how much I miss living with the man since Life (TM) and Rental Situations (TM) tore us apart.

I am totally won over by Wellington, by the by. What an amazing place. New Zealand? I salute you.

x

Nicita Has Left the Building: Not a day too soon, it appears, 42-year agency veteran and CAA partner Rick Nicita is ditching his Death Star digs for the co-chairman spot at Morgan Creek. Nicita joins a distinguished list of CAA defectors to studio front offices, led by Michael Ovitz's spectacular Disney flame job and Ron Meyer's decidedly improved turn heading up Universal. The latter studio's distribution partnership with Morgan Creek will come in handy for Nicita, who will be charged with restoring the Creek to its late-'80s/early-'90s golden years after a string of recent underachievers including The Good Shepherd and Man of the Year. We admit we're a little surprised; at a time when most of his old CAA contemporaries are slowing down and/or testifying in federal court, Nicita's move is that of a man with something to prove — most likely with wife Paula Wagner and client Tom Cruise looking on studiously from their own perches at UA. That's just the kind of mensch he is. Good luck, Rick! [LAT, Photo Credit: Getty Images]

The completely fabricated demand for Quentin Tarantino's Inglorious Bastards — the subject of white-hot, Weinstein-fuelled media speculation until a real phenomenon worth covering came along — is reportedly entering the realm of fact on its way to a deal at Universal. Variety notes today that the Weinsteins may partner with the studio for a 2009 release; few other details are available except that Paramount is/was the second choice of Tarantino and Harvey Weinstein and, of course, a conveniently planted reminder that Tarantino met with Brad Pitt in his recent casting quest.

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Time now for a round of blind item armchair detective. In today's wistful case, brought to us via Twitter user Ronen V, a TV personality is spotted during a vulnerable moment while browsing the affordable Johnson & Johnson-shaped products at a dollar emporium:

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Considering the free-lovin', liberal personalities of two undergarments-fearing stars like Woody Harrelson and Kate Hudson, we were a bit surprised to hear rumours that Woody is "relieved" and happy now that Kate is out of BFF Owen Wilson's love life for good. Janet Charlton is reporting that "Woody and Kate NEVER got along, but they put aside their differences for Owen...[Woody] never thought she was the right girl for him." So why would these two hippie dippy celebs find it so hard to get along? After a bit of digging, we came up with three theories, from Woody's big-screen debut alongside Goldie Hawn, to the skinny-dipper's habit of setting Owen up with mystery blondes while he and Kate were still together:

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· Mad Men's second season opened to a strong start for AMC, pulling in 1.9 million aspiring womanizers and the pregnant secretaries who love them. [Variety]
· The Venice Film Festival announced its slate, which will include world premieres of Darren Aronofsky's The Wrestler, Jonathan Demme's Rachel Getting Married, Kathryn Bigelow's Hurt Locker, and the Coens's Burn After Reading. [Variety]
· Deposed New Line potentates Bob Shaye and Michael Lynne's first post-studio-snuffing project will be an adaptation of Isaac Asimov's sci-fi epic Foundations for Warner Bros. The duo have an eye on adapting the book's sequels into a Lord of the Rings-style franchise, with Andy Serkis playing Andromeda, a kindly robot, and the speed of light. [THR]
· CBS is developing a pilot for updated version of The Streets of San Francisco. We humbly request they retain those cool diagonal stripe-wipes from the title sequence. Those rock! [THR]
· Mutinous SAG splinter-group Unite for Strength agrees with the current leadership that the AMPTP's offer is unacceptable, but differs strongly in other areas, such as where they'd like to order in lunch. (Koo Koo Roo, vs. the Alan Rosenberg-championed Chin Chin.) [Variety]

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Look, just because we want to see the guy locked up for crimes against our (and most others') childhoods doesn't mean we despise George Lucas. We're getting there, of course, but there's no denying that beneath that wavy tuft of white hair and sprawling wattle is a thoughtful, brilliant, self-made billionaire whose accomplishments as a single father aren't far behind those of the Star Wars franchise he clearly so yearns to destroy.

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Only three years ago, Blake Lively was just That Blonde Girl from The Sisterhood Of The Travelling Pants, and America Ferrera was just the Token Dorky Sidekick. Alexis Bledel and Amber Tamblyn, on the other hand, were bonafide TV stars. My, how things have changed. With the film's sequel debuting next month, we take a look at how each of the leading ladies has done career-wise since the original racked up nearly $40MM at the box office in 2005. While there's a bit of bad news for the original's biggest stars, there's an alternate way of looking at this role reversal: any actress' status as the perennial "buddy" can obviously change with one little show that could.

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Well, hopefully by now you've mixed yourself a nice cocktail to settle the post-earthquake jitters, didn't climb behind the wheel of an F-150, and are not currently in need of hand surgery. With everything seemingly still standing—even that wobbly nightstand that holds our framed, signed Eugene Levy headshot—we thought we'd celebrate with QUAKE '08: The Survivors' Stories, courtesy of your de facto natural-disaster-coverage destination, CNN. We particularly love the guy in the record store, contemplating his own narrowly avoided foot-mangling beneath a toppled rack of Gypsy King CDs. We also have video of KCAL's breaking news report after the jump, which confirms what we knew all along: This earthquake lasted a really long time!

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Clearly bored with the twins, absentee star Jennifer Lopez is set for a busy run of on-camera distractions in the months ahead. And perhaps needless to say after her '07 run of dodgy, self-produced dramas, the output to come promises a veritable bounty of romcoms playing to the constituency that will finally get J-Lo over that $100 million hump. Or maybe the $25 million hump — any hump, really, would likely satisfy producer Bob Yari, who's bankrolling The Governess this fall:

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Not since Donald Sutherland unleashed a spittle-flecked torrent of anti-Hillarian propaganda in The Huffington Post—denouncing the candidate's "wretched illegitimacy," as if she had ruined Canadian Thanksgiving by pulling off a rubber Kiefer mask to reveal her cackling identity beneath—have we been so shaken by a celebrity-penned attack on a Democratic candidate: National Treasure: Book of Secrets star/estranged grandfather Jon Voight has dared to zig when the Obama-loving free world zags in the op-ed pages of the Washington Times:

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We interrupt your daily nonsense feed to report an earthquake, estimated magnitude 5.8 and centered 29 miles east-southeast of downtown L.A., just scared the shit out of you for what felt like an eternity. LATimes.com was down for a bit but was back up. Land line and mobile phones are down. Developing...

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With its enshrinement as The Greatest Film Ever Made safely assured and its box-office trajectory soaring ever upward, The Dark Knight is now being groomed for a spot so exclusive that it only changes hands once per decade: The highest-grossing film in history. Feel free to take the news with a grain of salt, seeing as it came from the notably math-challenged John Horn in today's LA Times; even so, it's hard to argue when Knight is looking at $400 million by this weekend and Titanic sits idle at the dock with $600 million.

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Breaking! It now emerges that Shia LaBeouf may not have been completely at fault for his DUI accident: "L.A. County Sheriff's Department spokesman Steve Whitmore said the investigation suggests that another driver may have run a red light, hitting LaBeouf's truck. That driver was cited at the scene for running a red light." Do you suddenly find yourselves confused about how to feel? If a drunk driver gets hit by a red-light-runner at Fountain and LaBrea, flipping over his three-ton truck in the process and necessitating hand surgery, does it make a sound? We'll let you ponder these imponderables as we attend to a specially designated Ethical Dilemma Boston Cream Donut. Mmm...morally ambiguous cussstarrrrrd. [LAT]

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Mario Lopez, the dimple-cheeked actor who first rose to prominence playing the deeply conflicted Albert Clifford 'A.C.' Slater on the Chekhovian scholastics drama Saved by the Bell, has been announced as the new host of Extra. As we mentioned yesterday, ratings were declining steadily for the syndicated celebrity newsbite service; Warner Bros. was therefore looking to drop its current hosts (Mark McGrath, former lead singer of the Afro-Caribbean-flavored pop outfit Sugar Ray, and Dayna Devon, who apparently is not Nancy O'Dell) in favour of something fresher, absier, and more Eva Longoria-accessible. Weekend co-host Lopez fit that bill: "'He will be a fresh and dynamic presence, and we can't wait for him to assume his new role,' said senior exec producer Lisa Gregorish-Dempsey." Look for new features like the VitaminWater presents Extra's Live! From the DKNY Beach House!, and the Mario Lopez's Knockout Fitness Gym Couture Fashion Report.

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It's been two days since Shia LaBeouf's early-morning DUI accident, in which the well-liquored star of the latest Indy Jones installment was sent hurtling through the air in his three-ton, American-built pickup truck (360 views, specs, and colour options available here) at the corners of Fountain and LaBrea. As it turned out, the only thing his heavy-duty ride had picked up that evening was his Transformers sequel co-star, Australian actress Isabel Lucas. While her reportedly miffed boyfriend Adrian Grenier was unforthcoming with status updates, we have it on good authority from the fine people at TransWorld News press release syndicate that her rep "can't confirm anything...but I have been informed she is at work, on the set of Transformers and is fine." Phew! We can't confirm anything, either, but we're informed we're extremely relieved for the young actress.

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We have all kinds of fun ideas for how Lionsgate can splurge with its new $340 million credit line, a kind of shocking development considering Wall Street's recent exodus from the deadly film-financing racket. The budget-minded 'Gate, having leapfrogged from one genre hit to another (accruing a $331 million cash war chest along the way, according to Variety) is evidently immune to the crunch, however, even nabbing a 2.25% interest rate we haven't seen since our very first student loans.

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