Some celebs demand wacky things as part and parcel of the perks of just being them: Madonna wants a fresh toilet seat (which must be thrown out after she’s left the building); Barbra Streisand needs peach-colored toilet paper; Britney Spears likes stripper poles in her hotel room; 50 Cent must have two boxes of condoms (one in case the other one breaks); Sarah Palin will fly only on a private jet (a Hawker 800 or larger); and Lady Gaga demands all bars stop selling ice before her performances (she’s afraid her fans will throw it at her; who can blame her). For any magazine I’ve ever worked for, I also had demands: no one was to look me directly in the eyes when I wasn’t there; my desk had to be no more than a foot from Mr. Coffee, who also could not look me directly in the eyes; all vending machines had to be heavily stocked with stocks (the wooden kind); and I was to be addressed solely as “The Coryphaeus of All Sciences” without attendant giggling. Which is probably why I’m not in the magazine business anymore.
Men are more miserable than women after divorce. I notice the word “alimony” appears nowhere in the analysis of this phenomenon.
Vasco da Gama sought to vanquish Islam and recover Jerusalem from the infidels while enriching himself from a new trade route to India. Instead, he annoyed some Hindus. I have found myself in that position many times. It gets old after a while.
Lifehacker wants to know what it is you know now that wish you knew when you were in college. Frankly, I don’t know anything now. Which is what I get for going to college.
The former chief minister of Uttarakhand is poised to return to power. I don’t care either. I don’t even know where Uttarakhand is. No one does. Not even the chief minister. Which is how he fell from power in the first place. He walked into Paris, declared himself chief minister, and was immediately arrested for vagrancy.
Bucky Larson, a dopey comedy about a big fat dope, sucks so bad it earned 0% on Rotten Tomatoes, which is like the lowest percent you can earn, after -1%, which is being held in reserve for the remake of Point Break and the 3D version of Top Gun, which is a good 3Ds too many.
Speaking of ludicrosities, everyone’s favorite cannibal, Hannibal Lecter, is getting his own TV show. In this iteration, he will be an eager young journalist who leaves his hometown to start a new career in local TV news in Minneapolis. His boss, Mr. Grant, his colleague Murray, and the narcissistic newscaster, Ted, will round out his workday, while a transplanted window dresser from New York will be his very best friend. There will be many spinoffs. Most of them limbs.
