who dat? contest.

(yo stee. i know
who dat?)

last game:

actress hillary tuck
honey, i shrunk the kids, the syndicated tv show

first correct answer:


jason priestly, anna nicole smith, and stee walk into a bar...

So I'm a big ol' Onion slut and people like me can be just as annoying as Simpson sluts (always with the fucking Ralph Wiggam quotes...), but this is one of the funniest things I've ever read and just wanted to print it out of awe:

William Safire Orders Two Whoppers Junior
NEW YORK--Stopping for lunch at a Manhattan Burger King, New York Times 'On Language' columnist William Safire ordered two "Whoppers Junior" Monday. "A majority of Burger King patrons operate under the fallacious assumption that the plural is 'Whopper Juniors,'" Safire told a woman standing in line behind him. "This, of course, is a grievous grammatical blunder, akin to saying 'passerbys' or, worse yet, the dreaded 'attorney generals.'" Last week, Safire patronized a midtown Taco Bell, ordering "two Big Beef Burritos Supreme."

Those fucking guys, man. When I go visit my sister next month, I swear I'm going buy them something for making me laugh so much.

I love Jason Priestly. If you were around back then, I followed his little DUI case closely. There's nothing better than watching actors self-destruct. Well, OK, watching Canadian actors self-destruct is a little better. (I'm really just mad at him for prohibiting me from getting a drink for 20 minutes as he held court near the counter at SkyBar.) So as you probably know, go ol' JP was out doing press for his documentary on Barenaked Ladies, and after falling asleep in the make-up chair twice, he did a rambling interview. Here's a bit of the article:

"There aren't that many Canadians left. There's only 25,000, um, 25 million left ... We were once 30 million but most people fled the country because they were tired of listening to Celine Dion music," Priestley said. Then he started in on fame and the media.

"Fame is a four-letter word. ... I went to theater school, not fame school. There's no class you can take for how to deal with the press 101 or what to do when the National Enquirer is going through your garbage 404.

"People at the National Enquirer ... make lies up so they can sell bleeping papers! This isn't show fun, this isn't show friends, this is show business!"

Priestley's representative, Annett Wolf, blamed his behavior on jet lag.

His jet lag = Anne Heche's heat-stroke = Matthew Perry's "back pills".

Ooh, good news! Dr. Laura's brand new syndicated television show is already in trouble. It's pulling shit ratings and they've already put it on hiatus for some "tinkering." Goodbye, bitchface.

Usually we have "Stee Takes A Look At The Trades." Well, today it's "Stee Is In The Trades." Yup. Page Two of Tuesday's Variety! There's my name, in an article about the Slamdance screenplay awards. I'm very psyched.


I think I'll let this speak for itself.

The Anna Nicole Smith Happy Song Corner

I'm too upset to sing, y'all. This is totally "not about a gold digger sucking money. This is about a relationship that was very profound." It is, y'all. It is. Oh, can I borrow five bucks from someone?
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