Attention, Team Coco: Conan O’Brien has officially announced his much rumored-about live tour. The 30-city jaunt begins on April 12 in Eugene, OR (random), and spans the entire country (with a couple of dates in Canada) before winding down on June 14 in Atlanta. Visit teamcoco.com for a complete list of tour dates.
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WENN.com
It was that Saturday after the snowstorm when the streets edged with dirty, grey slush. I trudged through the snow and crowds down Broadway to my local café, where I thought my favorite brunch would distract me from both the cold and the fact that my phone had been painfully quiet all weekend. He hadn’t called and I hadn’t called him. My feet were freezing and I was taking it personally.
In my seat at the café, the smell of coffee mingled nicely with the crispness of the air and I wrapped my hands around the mug to warm myself. There’s something so hopeful about breakfast, I thought. The smells and colors are so bright; it’s a meal with promise, like starting over. I have a tendency for the maudlin when I am being neglected by a guy.
My phone buzzed in my pocket and I jumped so excitedly, I was actually embarrassed. But it was only an email. And not even a good one. The Internet was taunting me. I put the phone on the table and gave it a willful stare, knowing how pathetic I looked, knowing how pathetic I felt, and while I registered the presence of someone being sat at the table next to me, it was at least 10 minutes and a second cup of coffee until I realized that I was sitting a foot away from Ryan Gosling.
He was so close I could see the softness in his face and the sleepiness in his eyes. So close I could hear the bristling of his stubble as he scratched at his beard; I was so close that when he ordered his food the familiarity of his voice made me both smile and feel like passing out. When my food arrived, I panicked. I couldn’t possibly eat in front of Ryan Gosling, could I?
I attempted chewing and swallowing while he flipped through his paper. He folded it neatly and read it in tidy sections, aware of the space he was taking. I caught sideway glances while trying to eat an egg white omelet in the sexiest, most fascinating way I could conjure. I thought about sitting at a kitchen table with Ryan Gosling, wiping the sleepiness from his face while I brewed coffee and cracked eggs into a pan. Occasionally, he would look up from the paper and watch me as I hummed contentedly, retrieving items from the fridge, chopping fresh herbs and toasting brioche. I would dole out my affection like warm butter, showing my love in the sweet hope of a meal to fill our bellies and prepare us for a day probably thinking about art or reading scripts in our pajamas. I think we were in Paris, too, though I’m not sure why.
I hadn’t realized that I had stopped eating and was staring at my phone — the montage playing in my head, which was cocked like a confused puppy — until Ryan Gosling, himself, spoke up.
“You know that saying about a watched pot…” he said, quietly, with a bit of enjoyment edging into a smile as he pointed at my phone.
I laughed; dorkily, I’m afraid. I was worried I had food in my teeth. He waited for a response and I could hear him inhale.
“Easy for you to say,” I lost my breath as the words came out.
He looked at me eagerly, like he was waiting for details. I wanted to blather on about how the guy and I had a great time when we went out, how there were many moments of soft, easy intimacy, that he spoke in the future tense and at the end of the night my face hurt from smiling and I went to bed contentedly thinking about the Spring and holding hands, and there were montages. So many montages.
But all I could say was, “I guess he doesn’t want to be with me.”
The words landed with a thud, and I was devastated that I just looked like a total lovesick doofus in front of Ryan Gosling. He looked at his paper and sipped at his coffee. I pecked at what was left of my brunch and contemplated running from the room.
“Maybe he’s dead,” he said and nodded at my phone.
There was a sly smirk on his face as he looked at me and I laughed so hard and long and with such relief that I didn’t even notice my phone lighting up.
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We thought it wasn’t supposed to be released until tomorrow, but the first full trailer for The Twilight Saga: Eclipse hit the internet this morning. As we suspected yesterday, it’s all about Jacob trying to win Bella’s heart over Edward. We also got glimpses of evil Dakota Fanning and the first look at Bryce Dallas Howard as Victoria. Much like the book, the trailer also focused on Bella’s mortality, and Edward not wanting to turn her into a vampire. “Every few decades, everyone you know will be dead,” he tells her. “You wouldn’t have to change for me, Bella,” Jacob counters.
What do you think of the trailer? Are you excited for Eclipse to come out, or are you still suffering from New Moon fatigue?
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Today, Tinsley Mortimer may be celebrating the debut of her CW reality show High Society last night, but she probably won’t be getting any congratulations from her soon-to-be-ex sister-in-law Minnie. Our sister pub, The Gloss, discovered the hard way that Minnie, who’s a fashion designer, in no way wants to be connected to the burgeoning reality star — who is currently separated from Minnie’s brother Topper and dating Constantine Maroulis.
After doing an interview with Minnie about her fashion line, The Gloss’s Jennifer Wright started receiving emails from her publicist, asking her to cut any mention of the Tinz from the final draft. The Gloss refused, and you can read the whole interview here.
Looks like these two former sisters won’t even pretend to be frenemies. Related: did you watch High Society last night? What did you think?
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On or off the red carpet, celebrities always have to be careful about their looks. If they’re not, Molly Dimick will find them, and mock them. Read on for another installment of Fame Wore.
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How’s this for today’s controversy: someone needs to save Katie Cassidy from the sinking ship of television misery that is Melrose Place. Anyone, really. As social climbing junior publicist (and bitch-tastic Amanda Woodward protégé) Ella, she is by far the only bright point in an otherwise pointless hour of television. She’s impossibly gorgeous (we’d hate her if she wasn’t so awesome), and the best actress on the show. (Though when you’re playing against Ashlee Simpson-Wentz, that could be considered a backhanded compliment.) She deserves so much better than the ill-conceived Melrose Place reboot can ever give her.
Only 1.2 million people watched Melrose on Tuesday night. That’s as if the entire population of Dallas, the country’s ninth-largest city, watched the show. Conversely, American Idol, which won the night, had 22.8 million viewers. That’s as if the entire population of Dallas, plus the populations of the first- through eighth-largest cities (New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, Houston, Phoenix, Philadelphia, and San Antonio) watched the show. In other words: Dismal. Horrendous. Horrific. You get the idea.
If the show is wisely cancelled, which we hope it will be, Katie’s schedule will be freed up for more worthy projects. But for now, Melrose is like Jack Dawson from Titanic: We loved it once, and we’ll never let go (metaphorically), but we have got to pry its icy grip from Katie Cassidy before she goes down with it.
(Photo: WENN.com)
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A Men’s Health writer somewhere must be psyched about Gerard Butler’s inability to hold his tongue. On Jennifer Aniston: “Yeah, I trimmed her bush”. (Celebitchy)Post from: Crushable
There was lots of hugging and crying on tonight’s American Idol — it was like Paula Abdul was back!
Sadly, no. But wow: Ellen Degeneres actually jumped up from her perch on the judges’ panel to hug contestant Tim Urban for doing an impressive job on that old Idol standard “Hallelujah.” And Kara Dioguardi let her steely guard down, sobbing uncontrollably over new dad Michael Lynche’s R&B stylings.
What is going on?! Tim’s cute and all — and Michael seems like a really nice guy – but they did not exactly blow the roof off the joint. Crystal Bowersox can do that with no effort at all. As Simon Cowell says, it’s hers to win; but where’s the love, hugs and tears for the girls?
Let’s be honest here: This season’s male singers lack the frontman charisma of an Adam Lambert, a Chris Daughtry, or even, dare say it, a David Archuleta.
Michael’s smooth, emotional performance brought Kara to tears because she was reminded of his powerful Idol-ready backstory — that of a devoted family man whose maturity touches her deeply. OK, so maybe he exudes a teensy bit of charisma. As for Tim, who should be filed under Most Improved, Ellen all but knighted him a future top-tier contestant with a simple hug: This kid is a shoo-in, partly because Ellen approves and partly because he looks like Zac Efron’s cousin. Still, one might imagine him as the leader of an acapella group or a principal on Glee – not creating buzz and singles as a frontman cog in the wheel of the Idol-industrial complex.
Still, where is this season’s Adam Lambert? Why are the guys so BLAH? Is there anyone from the past — cough Adam cough — that you wish would return and make you wanna dial his number 5,000 times?
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Vajazzling, for the uninitiated, consists of affixing crystals to a woman’s vagina. Sound fun? Our anonymous reporter Robin Sparkles thinks so. Here, she recounts her adventures in vajazzling.
When I first heard Jennifer Love Hewitt utter the phrase “vajazzling” on Lopez Tonight, I was intrigued and full of a million questions. What did it feel like? What did it look like? How long did it last? I thought about it constantly for weeks. Then I decided to do it.
First, a little background about me. I’ve been getting bikini waxes religiously for the past several years, so the thought of going completely hairless down there was not too foreign of a concept for me. Adding some crystals into the mix wasn’t too much of a leap either. I did some quick Googling and discovered Completely Bare, a salon in New York City, that claimed to be “where the vajazzle all started!” I called and made an appointment for a bikini wax with flair (that’s what they call it there) and started mentally preparing myself for the transformation.
I started telling everyone I knew about my plans. My roommates and girlfriends were supportive and excited — almost more excited than I was. They wanted someone to test the waters and report back. Several women even asked me if they could see it after it was done. My guy friends had a completely different reaction. One told me that if a girl he was seeing surprised him with a bejeweled vag he would think she was cheating on him. Another asked me what the point of it all was. “There is actually no good reason to get this done,” I answered. Except curiosity, and because you like shiny things. It’s like covering your Blackberry with Swarovski crystals. What’s the point?
By the time my appointment came around, I was giddy but nervous. My aesthetician Alicia offered me four choices of flair: a butterfly in either white or purple crystals, a white crystal heart and a pink starburst. I picked the starburst because I liked it best and I liked the color. Alicia told me the pink would look great on my skin after the redness from the bikini wax wore off. She told me that the demand for flair had noticeably increased since Jennifer Love’s George Lopez interview.
After my Brazilian bikini wax, Alicia affixed the flair right above my vagina. It came in temporary tattoo form, which Alicia placed on me after first rinsing the area with rubbing alcohol. (This didn’t hurt although Alicia told me some women found it painful.) She used a tongue depressor to push down on the crystals (that hurt) and then I was all set. Completely Bare guarantees that the flair will stay on for five days, so I was instructed to return if any fell off during that time frame. I was also told not to scrub the area while I was in the shower or with a towel afterward, as that would make the crystals come off.
I was happy to have the guarantee, because the procedure sure was not cheap. Completely Bare sells its crystal temporary tattoos, which they get specially made for them, for . You can pay to have them apply it without a wax, but I paid 0 for a wax and everything — all before I tipped Alicia. Despite the cost, I was ecstatic with my vajazzle. On my way home, I was very aware of the fact that I had just had crystals glued to my vagina. I felt like I had a juicy little secret, and only I could decide who to tell. It was fun.
My skin was still red from the wax, but I showed my roommates as soon as I got home anyway. They were surprised at its size — I think they thought it would be bigger and more intricate. One roommate wondered why the crystals didn’t go down along the sides of my vagina, instead of just being along the top, on the skin above the folds. I don’t think I would ever want something glued to that part of my body.
Later that night, I got a call from Jason, a guy I had been dating. He asked if I was free in a few days, but I started to worry about how he would react to my new accessory. I heard the voices of my guy friends in my head — would he think I was a slut? Eventually, I came clean and told him about it. He was curious, and we made plans for later in the week.
The next day, I realized that one of the crystals had been affixed improperly, making the design look like one crystal had already fallen off. Later that day, one did actually fall off, sometime after the shower. I thought about going back to Completely Bare, but I decided I was too busy.
Later in the week, Jason and I hung out for a few hours at his place after work. I was tired and wanted to go home but he still hadn’t tried to get me naked. It was no time for respect, I was dying to get his feedback on the vajazzle. “Do you want to see it?” I asked out of the blue. His eyes lit up, so I took off my pants and laid on the bed so he could get a better look. He stared at it for a while, and touched it to feel the raised bumps of the crystals against my skin. “It’s memorizing,” Jason said. “This is probably the longest I’ve ever stared at a vagina.” Then we had sex, and none of the crystals fell off.
Having gotten feedback from both women and men, I felt my vajazzle was well worth it. A week after it was applied, it’s still going strong. Now, my hair is starting to grow back, and I’m sure they’ll start to fall off one by one eventually. If not, I’ll have to remove them myself, something I’m sure a little rubbing alcohol can help me with. I’m actually impressed they’ve lasted this long, and I’m trying to see how long they will stay in place. The experience may have been pricey, but it was fun and different. I would definitely recommend it — especially for a special occasion like a birthday or wedding night — and I’ll definitely be doing it again myself.
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Corey Feldman, who starred with Corey Haim in The Lost Boys, License To Drive and, most recently, their reality show The Two Coreys, has put out a statement reacting to Haim’s death earlier today:
“I was awakened at 8:30 this morning by my brother and sister knocking on my bedroom door. They informed me of the loss of my brother Corey Haim. My eyes weren’t even open all the way when the tears started streaming down my face. I am so sorry for Corey, his mother Judy, his family, my family, all of our fans, and of course my son who I will have to find a way to explain this to when he gets home from school. This is a tragic loss of a wonderful, beautiful, tormented soul, who will always be my brother, family, and best friend. We must all take this as a lesson in how we treat the people we share this world with while they are still here to make a difference. Please respect our families as we struggle and grieve through this difficult time. I hope the art Corey has left behind will be remembered as the passion of that for which he truly lived.”
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