Britney. Must. Be. Stopped.
Cynthia McMullen
May 14, 2008 6:16 PM
So Britney ran into another innocent driver—again—yesterday. Her Mercedes Benz coupe rear-ended a Ford 
Explorer in Beverly Hills. My guess—since she didn’t have a child in her lap—is that she was reaching for her 27th Starbucks of the day and just did not notice that pesky 2 tons’ worth of metal in front of her.
Or ... and here’s a theory worth investigating ... did she hit Drew Barrymore? I would’ve jumped on that one—made sense to me—except Drew was hit from behind on Monday. Of course, it still could’ve been Ms. Spears. That one gets around.
Seriously, somebody needs to take her driver’s license and grind it into tiny pieces, impound her car and put a lock on her front door till she gets some sense. Sure, I feel bad for Britney. She needs help. But does that make it OK to put others’ lives in danger?
Ooh, ooh, this just in!
Cynthia McMullen
May 13, 2008 4:48 PM
Forget what I said in the previous entry, Shayne Lamas’ career is clearly burgeoning.
This just in from Santa Monica, Calif.:
“Newly engaged actress Shayne Lamas, who was selected over 24 other girls for a marriage proposal by Matt Grant in the season finale of ABC TV’s popular ‘The Bachelor’ series, has chosen the Girls Gone Wild Magazine for her national print debut.
“Shayne says she decided to pose for Girls Gone Wild because ‘To me, Girls Gone Wild is about fun and freedom. It’s a way for a girl to express confidence in herself.’ The magazine contains no nudity.”
I’m more nonplussed by that last statement than I am about Shayne’s posing for the mag. How can it be Girls Gone Wild sans naked women? Do they paste those rectangular blocks—the one you see in the TV commercials—over each and every girly part?
Oh, wait, here you go: “Each issue of the magazine comes packaged with an exclusive, uncensored Girls Gone Wild DVD.” So I guess the magazine is just an entree to the vids.
Shayne is even classier than I thought. We can only hope Matt Grant agrees.
Matt, oh, Matt, what were you thinking?
Cynthia McMullen
May 13, 2008 4:28 PM
I watched the finale of “The Bachelor” last night. Yes, I admit it. Mock, if you will.
What can I say, I’m a romantic at heart. As little chance as true love has in this artificial world where bachelor-meets-25-lovely-ladies-whittles-them-down-to-one-and-lives-happily-(ha!)-forever-after, hope springs eternal for me. But c’mon, Matt, what were you thinking?
In this edition of the ABC show, global financier Matt Grant of London, 27, comes to America to find himself a 
bride. After weeks of painful and so-not-dramatic rose ceremonies, he pops the question on bended knee. And wouldn’t ya know it, 22-year-old Shayne Lamas of Malibu, Calif.—whose initial appearance even forces Matt’s big bro, Simon, to comment on her ever-so-bleached-blondness—ends up with the hunka-hunka diamond engagement ring.
Shayne, according to Shayne, is an actress. She is not there, she says, to enhance her career, despite papa Lorenzo Lamas’ comment to the contrary: “I think it was the idea of being on television that was very enticing to her.”
What acting career, you say? Yeah, I was curious, too, never having heard of her. Here’s what I found, courtesy of http://www.imdb.com: Shayne has appeared in two episodes of “Air America,” 18 episodes of “General Hospital” and three films I’m pretty sure you never heard of: “Endless Bummer” (in which she plays the no-doubt pivotal role of Red Bikini Girl), which apparently has been released but who knows where; “The 13th Alley,” somewhere between completion and release; and “Deep in the Valley,” in post-production.
You know the latter is Oscar-bound. It also stars one of the interchangeable Kardashian brood and, just to sweeten the pot, Tracy Morgan.
Matt, Matt, Matt. I’d like to think this is going somewhere – despite the best attempts of reality TV, I’m still that romantic at heart – but c’mon, let’s not kid ourselves. Your chances of marrying Shayne might not be quite as bad as 300-to-1, as one handicapper is predicting. But I’m guessing they’re slim.
So enjoy your little American tartlet while you can – sorry, make that little American “monkey.” (Yes, he DID propose this way: “Monkey, will you marry me?” Which might be the biggest reason of all that the relationship is most likely doomeddoomeddoomed.)
A new season of “The Bachelorette” premieres next week. Having just come off “The Bachelor,” I might have to skip it. Sometimes you just have to say no.
It’s been a busy week at Lake Wobegone …
Cynthia McMullen
May 09, 2008 9:16 PM
Oops. Wrong writer, right sentiment.
Speaking of Garrison Keillor (of “Prairie Home Companion” fame, pictured at right), I see he’s coming to University of Richmond for the Modlin Center’s 2008-09 season. Keillor’s been getting a little too political for my taste—I prefer the homespun tales he weaves and his alter ego, Guy Noir—but he still should sell out.
Also heading for UR: my friend Susan’s favorite writer, David Sedaris (aka Amy Sedaris’ big bro). Susan used to read from her latest D. Sedaris book at work and laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh. She can’t wait for his sixth collection of essays—I know, essays sound boring, but his are not—“When You Are Engulfed in Flames.” It’s due out in June.
I’m looking forward—if I can swing it on a Wednesday night—to 1964 The Tribute at Innsbrook May 28 (oh, yeah, I’m a Beatles fan 
all the way).
Originally it was paired with Smash Mouth, whom I would have loved to see, as well. Historically, I’m too cheap to buy singles, but when “Walkin’ On the Sun” came out—in what? 1998? 1999? (Egad!)—I ran right out and snapped one up for a summer of car-tuning.
I was never sure where the name Smash Mouth came from. Here’s an explanation from the band itself, courtesy of http://www.smashmouth.com: Original Smash Mouth drummer Kevin Coleman borrowed the name from former Chicago Bears’ coach Mike Ditka, who coined the term “Smash Mouth Football” to describe a particularly vicious “no mercy"style of the American game. Coleman originally wanted to name the band “Smash Mouth au GoGo,” but this was quickly vetoed by the rest of the guys, who shortened the name and the rest is history.
I kind of like the sound of Smash Mouth au GoGo!
P.S. I’m an equal employment site-seer: You can find out more about 1964 The Tribute at http://www.1964thetribute.com. I know it’s a cover band—and also covering The. Best. Band. Ever. But seriously, folks, The Tribute does an excellent job. They have a great sound. If you close your eyes (if you’re like me, at least, and never heard the Beatles live), you will be impressed.
Weekend warrior?
Cynthia McMullen
May 05, 2008 12:59 PM
Not exactly. But I did have enough plans to keep me from having time to trim my Bradford pear tree. (Poor tree, I’ll be home soon!)
Here’s some of what I learned in my wanderings:
A. First Fridays Artwalk is still going strong. As always, it’s lovely to see people—all ages, all stages—out and about on the streets of downtown Richmond. I had my first listen to the Happy Lucky Combo and got my first look at the Artwalk’s new market (in a parking lot next to 1708 Gallery). A great addition to the proceedings, it offered fresh eggs, kale, carrots, lettuce ... just the thing to pick up when you’re out perusing art but thinking omelets and salad.
B. I’ve only been to Black Finn once— and that was for a sad occasion— so I’m probably not the best judge of what it has to offer. But my hairdresser, Deborah, hangs out at the Shockoe Bottom restaurant and bar on weekends. So it has to be a happenin’ place.
C. My friend Lisa’s husband prefers NASCAR to Shakespeare. Who’d-a thunk it? But Olaf’s preference for strong odors and headgear paved the way for me to attend Richmond Shakespeare’s annual Bard Bash. Artistic director Grant Mudge unveiled the company’s new eight-minute promotional film (nicely done!), which emphasizes the importance of making Shakespeare accessible, even to young’uns. Especially to young’uns. (The educational component is headed up by the enthusiastic Cynde Liffick). Bobbie Barajas—you know, from WCVE-FM?—hosted the event; it was fun to meet the woman behind the voice.
D. Even Patrick Dempsey has his off days. I know, I can hear the screaming from here. But seriously, even 
McDreamy has trouble pulling off hefty, wavy bangs when they obscure his beautiful forehead and detract from those lovely blue eyes. *Sigh.* Still, it was fun to see him take one fall after another—except the final fall, which proved one fall too many—in “Made of Honor.”
<<<< Dempsey with good hair
E. West Tower is my third favorite cinema (Byrd Theatre first, Westhampton second)—mainly because it doesn’t have 25 screens the size of your Uncle Ned’s big-screen TV and you don’t have to wait in a line
that snakes around the lobby three times. That said, the building could use a good airing. As soon as we walked in, I got a strong whiff of eau de stale popcorn. Hmm, maybe a few appropriately placed air fresheners would help.
F. Zorba’s (Greek and Italian restaurant) at Tuckernuck Square still has some of the best rolls in town. And its hummus appetizer makes for a great meal.
G. This was PetSmart’s National Adoption Weekend. I have two cats who pretty much take up every square inch of my house—but if I had room, I know I could’ve found the perfect canine. PetSmart’s Short Pump location was finding new homes for some gorgeous doggy-dogs this weekend. To them all, I say, “Happy tails to you!”
This dog was not at PetSmart, but I like his looks. He won first place in a canine fashion show in Manila, Philippines, last week. >>>>
Think locally, vote globally
Cynthia McMullen
April 30, 2008 8:15 PM
Last June, Richmond artist Noah Scalin came up with an, er, different idea: create a skull design for each of the next 365 days. (Or 366, possibly, given the Leap Year.) The result? http://www.skulladay.com
Now Noah’s Web site has been nominated for a Webby Award. The Webbys, dubbed by The New York Times as the 
Oscars of the Internet, attracted 10,000 entries from over 60 countries this year. Not bad.
At any rate, Skull-a-Day was one of five noms in the best personal Web site category. Winners will be announced on Tuesday. In the meantime, if you’re interested, check it out. Who knew you could find inspiration for skulls in so many media?
Or you can be part of the Webby People’s Voice Awards—a separate award, one per category—by voting for your favorites at http://pv.webbyawards.com—but do it soon, the deadline is tomorrow (May 1).
I scream, you scream, we all scream …
Cynthia McMullen
April 29, 2008 8:08 PM
... for ice cream! But we don’t always get it.
Who knew it was Ben & Jerry’s 30th anniversary? Not me. But my friend Katherine did, so she hightailed it to Carytown this afternoon to get a scoop on the action.
“The action,” in this case, being a free ice cream cone. Turns out B&J, community-oriented fellas that they are, 
give out free ice cream every year around their anniversary. This year, it was today.
Only problem, Katherine reports, is that the line at the shop, 2901 W. Cary St., went clear down the block.
Katherine might not have had time to wait for her free frozen treat, but—on behalf of the 3,200 people who did—thanks, Ben and Jerry!
And thanks to the worker bees still cleaning up tonight, nearly an hour and a half after closing. Since the Carytown location just opened in September, this was its first free-cone day. From all indications, it was a sweet success.
Note: The photo above is from the week Carytown B&J’s opened—you know, when people were still discovering it existed—not from the madhouse that was today.
Speaking of the dreaded Jason (ha! hair humor!)
Cynthia McMullen
April 25, 2008 8:27 PM
You know, I thought Jason Ca-"rasta"-ro (apologies to Bob Marley!) was pretty cute when the new season 
of “American Idol” began. Big smile, baby blues, cool hair, etc.
Now, for my money, he just looks kinda vacant. Forget how he sounds, I’m being superficial.
Sad when that happens, though—a possible up-and-comer is visually mesmerizing, and then he’s not much more than a yawn.
Same thing happened with Ace Young on TSOE (The Season of Elliott). Here was this really good-looking dude—then a few weeks in, I had a hard time looking my TV in the eye when Ace was making love to the camera. I began to cringe every time he tossed his head so the hair would fall just so.
I got over Ace about a week before my 15-year-old niece “dropped” him, too. She tried to hang on but just couldn’t deal.
Well, folks, I’m here to tell you I wuz WRONG. Sometimes ... sometimes ... TV lies. You’d think people would look their best, all dolled up for the camera. But sometimes all that makeup and hype does them a disservice.
How do I know? I met Ace Young at Claudette Yamin’s funeral. OK, he did have that going for him—he was nice enough to fly up from Atlanta in support of his friend—but I’m going with the superficial again.
In person, up close, Ace Young is one hot fella. Seriously. We met only because he was standing in the parking lot, talking to a couple of people, and I had to walk by him to get to my car. I was going to walk on by, but the journalist in me just couldn’t stand it. I stopped and told him I worked at a local newspaper.
Oh, sure, he whipped his shades off so fast, I’m surprised he didn’t get whiplash. But my gosh, was it ever worth 
the view. The man has such beautiful eyes—tell me if I’m gushing here—with little gold specks in them, and it was ALL I could do not to stare.
He’s also built—but you knew that—and his hair looked much better (even cleaner) in person. It’s a good thing I’m so old because I’m telling you it was all I could do not to ... well, you get my drift. Ace Young is one extremely attractive man.
In case you don’t remember Ace, I’m dropping in a photo for reference. It doesn’t do the man justice, though. I couldn’t find one that did.
After shoving my eyes back in their sockets, I asked what he was working on. He mentioned several projects, including his first single, “Addicted,” which came out last week, and his album, “Ace Young,” due for a July 15 release. He also mentioned having been at the Grammys, presumably hanging with Daughtry, with whom he co-wrote best rock song nominee “It’s Not Over.” Then he most politely excused himself because he had to head for the graveside service.
Long live Claudette, by the way. 
Loved it when Elliott gave her a handwritten shout-out (literally!) when he recently performed on “Idol.”
This just in!
Cynthia McMullen
April 23, 2008 6:43 PM
*Sigh.*
So Miley “Hannah Montana” Cyrus is writing her memoirs.
Yes, she’s 15. OK, I kept a diary when I was 15—and I realize I was just a run-of-the-mill teen—but c’mon, even with your own TV show, concert tour and kajillions of preteen fans, how much do you really have to say about your life thus far?
Ask Disney; it’s footing the bill.
Then we have poor, poor Star Jones, who after three years of wedded bliss is divorcing her husband, Al Reynolds.
I used to like Star ... until she used her wedding for personal gain, lied about her weight loss methods and got so full of herself she couldn’t ... well, you be the judge: In a statement to “Entertainment Tonight,” she 
says, “Several years ago I made an error in judgment by inviting the media into the most intimate area of my life.”
Uh, duh, Star? Do ya think that announcing your divorce to TV’s highest-rated entertainment-news show might not qualify for—I dunno—INVITING THE MEDIA INTO THE MOST INTIMATE AREA OF YOUR LIFE? AGAIN?!! Have we learned nothing from the wedding debacle?
The best news of the day, for those who can’t get enough of the Fashion Police, is Yahoo’s new site, http://omg.yahoo.com/what-were-they-thinking/photos/1716.
I’ll drop one of the pics in as a sneak peek. This photo to the left, by Stephen Lovekin and courtesy of Getty Images, shows Crystal Gayle’s scary floor-length locks. Yes, that’s her actual hair wafting past her ankles. Seriously.
Gayle is probably best known for her late ‘70s hit, “Don’t It Make My Brown Eyes Blue.” Her over-the-top do makes my hazel eyes teary.
Yeah, uh-huh, I don’t THINK so.
Cynthia McMullen
April 21, 2008 8:03 PM
I’ve been out of town for a week—a family emergency that turned out beautifully (as in, my father is back home and doing well, thank you!)—so of course my e-mail in-box was crammed and spammed to the max. I suppose the most unexpected piece of mail I received was an invitation.
An invitation, you say? How lovely!
Not so, this one.
Do NOT ask how I ended up on this mailing list. I have no clue. But it’s true. I—Miss Sweetness and Light of 2008, right?—have been cordially invited to attend the launch of Girls Gone Wild magazine in West Hollywood, Calif.
It wasn’t enough that jillions of DVDs are already available?
Apparently not. “The Popular Lifestyle Brand Moves into Publishing, bringing its Celebration of Fun, Freedom and Hot College Girls to the Newsstand,” says my invitation. (Capital letters are courtesy of Girls Gone Wild.)
Furthermore, smilin’ Joe Francis, mighty proud founder and CEO of GGW (hang on a sec! Is he out on parole?) will 
be on hand, along with “beautiful girls and more than 100 of Joe’s closest celebrity friends (including the Kardashian clan).”
I still haven’t figured why members of the “Kardashian clan”—Kim, Kourtney and Khloe—are so big in the tabloids. I mean, I know there’s the E! reality show “Keeping Up With the Kardashians”—and I just found out, to my horror, that Olympic athlete Bruce Jenner is their stepdad. But I still can’t figure out what the big deal is.
By the way, Jenner’s offspring with the Kardashian mom, Kris, includes Kylie and Kendall. Too cute, huh? The one brother—not Jenner’s biological child—is named Robert. Lucky for him because he could’ve ended up a Kidron, Krispin, Kalvin or Klark. At least now he has a chance for a normal life. Nah ... scratch that.
But back to the GGW magazine kickoff (ooh, Kickoff Kardashian has a ring to it!). I’m also invited to attend the red-carpet reception, the thought of which immediately brings to mind dozens of college-age women strutting down the carpet for their Joan Rivers interview. “Who are you wearing?” she screams, as big banners (or small, depending ... ) flash across their chests: “REAL! RAW! UNCENSORED!”
Gosh, Joe, thanks, but I’m busy tomorrow night. I’m pretty sure I have to wash my hair. In fact, I might need a hot, hot shower. Suddenly I feel just a tad dirty.
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