In the only clip I’ve seen of Bravo’s The Shahs of Sunset, an older wealthy Persian man (oil tycoon, obviously) was idly threatening his bitchy, entitled 30-something year old daughter over lunch that she was going to get cut off unless she got a job soon. It seemed to be like Real Housewives of Beverly Hills just with tanner people, so I switched it off and resumed online shopping with my dad’s credit card, never to watch it again.
But like HPV, reality “stars” have a way of foisting themselves upon us. One such pustule is Lilly Ghalichi, a slightly melted Kim Kardashian and self-proclaimed “Persian Barbie” who wants you to look past her cartoonish breast implants, Halloween hair, wax face, and piano teeth, and see that there is also a rotted soul on the inside. And like most rotted souls, this one has a J.D. (Loyola Law School, ’08). She’s even licensed to practice in California, further confirming that the Louisiana Purchase was a bad idea….
I’m not going to pretend to care about Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson. And here’s why: I don’t care about vampires, werewolves, trolls, magical rings, wands, space, fantasy or anything that encourages nerds of the world to be even more annoying. I am tired of walking by hoards of absolute losers waiting in costume at 4 p.m. for a midnight showing of a 3D movie about sexy blue people that live in a fake jungle on a different planet. I will not read a 700-page book about wizards and gargoyles. And since I do not wear Pink University sweatpants, listen to “OneDirection” or hang out at Cinnabon at the mall, there is absolutely no reason for me to see, or care, about Twilight.
But I do care about Twilight dogs. Obviously we all do.
You’ve no doubt heard that shifty minx “KStew” cheated on “RPat,” her boyfriend of three years, with Rupert Sanders, her creepy married director from Snow White and the Hunstman. This turn of events of was absolutely shocking because it destroyed eveybody’s faith in true love and also Kristin and Rob were supposed to maintain their sham relationship until their Twilight promotional duties are over for the third and mercifully final installment, to be released this November.
But when life veers off-script, true actors improvise and deliver the satisfying alternate storyline…
Unless you’ve been living in a volcano for 36 billion years, you’ve heard that Katie Holmes ascended the Bridge to Total Freedom last Friday by “blindsiding” Tom Cruise with divorce papers after five years of sham marriage. Bookies in Vegas no doubt saw this coming, given his marriage record and the fact that everyone claims to know someone who’s worked for him who says he’s totally gay. But unlike the rumors that dogged his last divorce (Nicole was apparently slated to receive a huge chunk of change under her prenup if they made it to ten years, so he divorced her after nine), this time the rumors center around Scientology…
Yesterday, a French judge charged embarrassing grandpa and former IMF head Dominique Strauss-Kahn with “aggravated pimping” for his role in a prostitution ring run out of upscale hotels in Lille, France. The charge is the latest in a series of sexual allegations against liver-spotted DSK, including attending sex parties with hookers, sexually assaulting his goddaughter, raping a maid in a hotel, and having sex at age 63.
DSK’s most recent charge raises an important issue: What is aggravated pimping? And if pimpin’ ain’t easy, isn’t all pimping “aggravated pimping”? According to this blogger, whose analysis sounds good to me because I’m too lazy to check it, the French charge of “aggravated pimping” likely involves some aggravating circumstance, such as paying for prostitutes with corporate funds or paying for annoying prostitutes with your own money. Apparently most U.S. states also have “aggravated promotion of prostitution” statutes, which make angry pimping a more serious crime than relaxed pimping — which makes sense from a public policy perspective.
But what about the millions of permissible P.I.M.P.s who just happen to be having a bad day? Are they at risk of breaking the law? And where do we draw the line between perfectly legal Big Pimpin’ and illegal aggravated pimping?
To help make sense of this mess — and to keep you on the legal side of where the true players are at — see my Guide to Pimping chart below….
This Bachelor wasn't impressed with the credentials of one Illini 2L.
Still reeling from the producers’ decision to include one Latino contestant four seasons ago, The Bachelor franchise is back in Narnia this season with another all-white cast vying for the heart of Ben Flajnik, Sonoma’s most eligible winemaker and Geico Caveman lookalike. During the opening montage on the first episode, we see Ben drive a tractor, examine dirt, and wear a dusty leather vest — all key indicators that Ben is serious about his business.
Will such a serious career man be able to find love among this season’s pack of Dental Consultants, Trading Clerks, VIP Cocktail Waitresses, and other C-level executives? Luckily, he doesn’t have to. Also available for fake engagement this season is a sexy, seasoned Biglaw attorney.
Just when you thought TV had run out of legal drama series concepts, Sony Pictures TV went rummaging through 2004′s trash and resuscitated this old turd: Dead Lawyers.
The series, originally developed for the Syfy channel, follows “a hotshot defense attorney [who] is run over by a bus and finds himself in his own version of hell: a law firm on earth composed of other dead lawyers, all trying to right miscarriages of justice in order to redeem themselves.” Astonishingly, the show never aired.
Back when things were real, musicians didn’t get hurt jet skiing. They got shot. And if realness can be measured in bullet wounds, nobody was as real as rapper extraordinare and do-rag styling visionary Tupac Shakur, who was shot five times in 1994 and then again, fatally, in 1996. None of the gunmen from either shooting have been identified. Until now.
In 1994, James Rosemond hired me to rob 2Pac Shakur at the Quad Studio. He gave me $2,500, plus all the jewelry I took, except for one ring, which he wanted for himself. It was the biggest of the two diamond rings that we took. He said he wanted to put the stone in a new setting for his girlfriend at the time, Cynthia Ried. I still have as proof the chain that we took that night in the robbery.
If $2,500 seems low to you, you need to adjust for inflation ($3,765 in today’s dollars). In any event, why is Isaac ratting out Henchman after all these years, after the statute of limitations has run? Henchman, an FBI fugitive wanted for drug charges, recently told the press that Isaac was cooperating with authorities to build a case against him. In order to protect his good name and prove that he is under no circumstances a rat, convicted murderer Isaac is working closely with federal investigators to bring down Henchman. No word on whether Carmen Sandiego is on the case…
Cellphone beat-downs are back in the news. Last week, New York Times tech writer David Pogue allegedly attacked his wife with an iPhone (if it wasn’t an iPhone 4, his career is over). And now the Grande Dame of Smartphone Assaults, supermodel Naomi Campbell, is threatening to throw her bloodthirsty Blackberry at Cadbury, the chocolate manufacturer, over using her name without permission in an ad she finds racist.
The docile model, who has lived peaceably since beating police officers in 2008, has a big problem with this:
Naomi contends that ad offensively likens her to chocolate: “It’s upsetting to be described as chocolate, not just for me, but for all black women and black people. I do not find any humour in this. It is insulting and hurtful.” Cadbury maintains that the ad was meant to be “a light-hearted take on the social pretensions of Cadbury Dairy Milk Bliss,” but has since pulled it.
Meanwhile, Campbell continues to pursue “every option available” to her, including a possible lawsuit — and maybe a fist fight…
On Wednesday, white and nerdy musical genius Weird Al released “Perform This Way,” to his Twitter followers for free download, after Lady Gaga supposedly refused to approve it for inclusion on his upcoming album. The song parodies Gaga’s “Born This Way” and, while certainly no “Another One Rides The Bus” or “Rye or the Kaiser,” appropriately mocks the Gaga marketing machine with such gems as “got my straight jacket today / it’s made of gold lamé / no I’m not crazy, I perform this way.” The whole thing is kind of a meta-parody because “Born This Way” is really a low rent rip-off of Madonna’s “Express Yourself” and “Vogue.”
Lady Gaga denied Weird Al the right to release his parody of BORN THIS WAY, only the second time in his career that he’s been denied. [Ed. note: The other refusal came from Prince.] But he recorded the track at her request as a part of the approval process… the first time any artist has made that request. She summarily passed without comment. So instead of selling a couple hundred thousand or a million copies… he gave PERFORM THIS WAY away for free to his 2 million followers on Twitter.
Really, Lady Gaga wants to throw down with Weird Al?
What do you get when you cross Top Chef with Mark Cuban’s The Benefactor (anybody remember that? HA), steal half the name of America’s Next Top Model, and throw in inexplicably famous “chef” Curtis Stone? Only the single greatest reality show on NBC during the 8 p.m. time slot on Sundays: America’s Next Great Restaurant.
This groundbreaking pilot’s premise is that people who did boring things with their lives because they were too poor or risk-averse pitch restaurant franchise ideas to Curtis, Bobby Flay, and two other judges that nobody recognizes, who then back the winner with money from NBC’s budget their own wallets to open three identical restaurants so they can fail in three different cities at the same time.
As you may have guessed, America is not watching, the show is not Great, and I somehow doubt that The Spice Coast (or whichever proposed restaurant wins) will threaten the national hegemony of McDonald’s, although I might order it from Seamless Web. If I liked Indian food. Which I do not.
In any event, competing in “ANGR” is one of our own…
Hey, have you read Above the Law for like one single minute in the past month? If so, you probably know that we’re having this big blogger conference on March 14th at the Yale Club. Yeah, the Yale Club. You’ll be able to recognize me: I’ll be the only big… blogger guy surreptitiously holding a can of crimson spray-paint.
Speaking of coming, you should come. We’ve got CLE and all that. Click here to buy tickets to get CLE credit for listening to bloggers scream about stuff on the internet.
To refresh your memory, details on the panel that I’m moderating — almost entirely sober, mind you — follow.
My panel is called Blogs as Agents of Change, and we’re going to talk about whether all of these spilled pixels are actually making a difference. You know my view… just ask Lawrence Mitchell, but here are the panelists:
So you spent a considerable amount of time courting, selling and maybe even doing some friendly stalking of that attractive lateral partner candidate with a sizable book. After he or she ignored your emails and didn’t return your calls, a few weeks go by and you read a press release in the legal media announcing the recent move to a competing firm.
Rats. Another one got away from you. You cringe when you consider how much time was spent in meetings that did not bear fruit. Your heart aches when recall how you were led to believe this was a marriage made in heaven.
You have been rejected.
The sting of rejection is painful, even for fancy law firms. But you need to find a way that you can turn this disappointment into a legitimate learning experience.
No, this isn’t a pre-party before we come back next fall for the real thing. This IS the real thing. Quinn Emanuel is pushing the envelope on recruiting. The party is now. This is when you meet the partners and associates face to face. This is when we begin the dance that could land you an offer for your second summer BEFORE school starts in the fall.
First: You come to the party. Second: If you like us, you send your resume after June 1, 2014. Third: If we like each other, you get an offer.
We’re not waiting for fall. We’re not doing the twenty minute thing. This party is the real thing!
We hope you’ll join us, and look forward to meeting you.
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