And here's some shitty and sad news for your Friday afternoon... One of Ashley Greene's dog is up in heaven now after it died in a fire that broke out this morning and completely destroyed her condo in West Hollywood. Ashley had two dog friends, Marlo (pictured with her above) and Theo, and one of them survived. It's not known which one died.
Ashley's rep tells UsWeekly that she wasn't home when the fire broke out on the couch this morning, but she drove over there as soon as one of her neighbors called to tell her what happened. But TMZ heard a different story. A firefighter at the scene told TMZ that Ashley, her boyfriend (who apparently isn't Ryan Phillippe) and her brother were out late last night so they were sleeping in. A fire started on the sofa in the living room and after they woke up and realized the whole place was in flames, they ran out of there without the dogs. They all realized that the dogs didn't run out with them, so her boyfriend and her brother tried to go back to get them, but they weren't able to. As Ashley's neighbors tried to control the fire with fire extinguishers, one dog made it out. One of Ashley's nosy neighbors tells TMZ that before the fire, her brother and her boyfriend were going in and out of the apartment all morning and they heard glass breaking.
If a fire broke out in my apartment, the only things I'd grab would be my bong and my dog. If a fire broke out in my apartment, I'd like to think that my dog would grab me too, but he'd probably just grab the bacon from the fridge. Speaking of bacon, I should probably put back the battery I took out of the smoke alarm in my living room because it kept going off every time I cooked bacon.
Rest in peace, Ashley's doggy.
UPDATE: TMZ says that a candle was the cause. Somebody left a candle on and it somehow fell on the sofa and started the fire.
Shut down your computer, put on your coat, go home, put on a boho headscarf, grab a bottle of something mind numbing, pick up your pet of choice (if you don't have one, steal one off the street) crawl into bed, pull the covers over you and hug the bottle and your pet of choice, because Valerie Harper's got terminal brain cancer and her doctor has given her three months to live. And oh People Magazine, the place where you announce you're gay, announce you're getting married, announce you got married, announce you're having a kid, announce you had a kid, announce you're getting divorced and announce that you're saying goodbye to the world.
Rhoda Morgenstern and Jason Bateman's TV mom battled lung cancer in 2009 and just a couple of months ago her doctor told her that she has a rare and terminal type of brain cancer. Valerie tells People that she has leptomeningeal carcinomatosis, "a rare condition that occurs when cancer cells spread into the fluid-filled membrane surrounding the brain." Valerie's doctor told her that she has less than three months to live. How in the hell do you tell someone that they have three months to live? Do you do it while holding a tiny kitten wearing a sombrero? Even a tiny kitten wearing a sombrero wouldn't soften that news.
But 73-year-old Valerie is being positive and tells People, "I don't think of dying. I think of being here now."
Well, this is just sad and this feels like the kind of post that should end with a song.
Bradley Cooper has joined Joaquin Phoenix and Ethan Hawke in the anti-Oscar club, but he has a different reason for why he thinks winning an Oscar is about as important as taking a dump. (FYI: Taking a dump is way more important than winning an Oscar, because you could die if stop taking a dump, but you won't die if you don't win an Oscar. Unless, you're name is Anne Hathaway, because she totally would've died if she didn't win that Oscar.)
When I read the headline, "Bradley Cooper Doesn't Want An Oscar," I figured that he was going to say that he already has enough gold-plated dildos at home and he doesn't need another one. But B. Coop tells GQ UK (via Metro) that watching his father die made him realize that winning an Oscar means nothing. Yeah, way to take us to Sad Street, B.Coop. B. Coop hurt Anne Hathaway's Oscar-loving emotions when he said this:
"Death became very real. And very tangible. Because my father – someone who had been in my life for 36 years is just fucking gone. I watched him dying and I was there by his bed watching him, breathing with him, and then I saw his last breath and he was gone. I experienced the whole thing. And that was a watershed moment that I was privileged to experience. And it changed everything. Nothing has ever been the same since.
You know William Blake’s Songs Of Innocence? Well, right there, in that moment, the innocence was gone. Done. Never to return. The beauty is that I just don’t sweat shit any more.
My father gave me two gifts – having me and dying with me. I used to be the kid that got the shakes if I had to talk in public; now, I just don’t get nervous about stuff. I can’t control everything. I watched my father die and I realised that is the way we are all going to die. For me, it was a switch from knowing something intellectually to knowing it by tangibly experiencing it. It rewired my neurological system. It almost did the opposite of motivating me. It was about keeping the main thing the main thing.
I don’t want to win an Oscar. It would change nothing. Nothing. The things in my life that aren’t fulfilled would not be fulfilled. Career-wise, right now, it’s better that I don’t win one. I don’t want to win. I don’t."
B. Coop did this interview before the Oscars, so he probably knew he had zero chance at winning and he might as well spit on the Oscars, because #YOLO. I totally picture a shirtless, sweaty B. Coop sitting in a dark corner and saying to himself "I don't want to win. I don't. I don't want an Oscar. I don't want one" while punching a picture of Daniel Day-Lewis holding an Oscar.
B. Coop is telling the truth though. Winning an Oscar means nothing. It's not like winning one gets you special privileges in heaven. (Cut to decades from now when all of us are eating cloud slop with the other simpletons in heaven's mess hall as Anne Hathaway eats prime cut cloud meat in the VIP Oscar winners only section.)
Bonnie Franklin, who everybody knows as Ann Romano from One Day at a Time (and if you don't know what One Day at a Time is, then you must be 12 and you should quit school immediately and really educate yourself by watching TV Land all day), died at her home in Los Angeles this morning. Deadline says that her family announced she died of complications from pancreatic cancer. She was 69.
Bonnie started out in theater and she was nominated for a Tony in 1970 for singing and dancing in Applause. Bonnie went on to do a bunch of theater stuff before landing the role of Ann Romano in One Day at a Time. Bonnie played the role for 9 seasons and after the show ended, she had a few guest roles on TV shows and directed a few episodes of Charles in Charles. She reunited with Valerie Bertinelli on an episode of Hot in Cleveland.
Bonnie's husband of 29 years Marin Minoff died three years ago.
Rest in peace, Bonnie Franklin. We'll all tap dance today in your honor.
And somebody should reboot these videos, but instead of calling it "I Hate To Exercise, I Love To Tap," they should call 'em "I Hate To Exercise, I Love To Fap." I'd buy every single video in that series.
Country singer Mindy McCready committed suicide this afternoon in Arkansas. MyFox8 and E! News says that Mindy shot herself to death in Heber Springs, Arkansas. Mindy was recently committed to a treatment facility for alcohol abuse and mental health issues. Mindy checked two days after she checked in. Mindy was only 37.
A member of Mindy's family confirmed the sad news to Fox 17 in Nashville. Mindy has been in a bad way for a while. Just a month ago, Mindy's boyfriend David Wilson and the father of her 9-month-old son Zayne shot himself to death. David's family threw a side-eye at Mindy, because they think she had something to do with his death and she denied it over and over again. Mindy was on Celebrity Rehab and tried to dry out several times. She also tried to commit suicide a couple of times before.
When Mindy was committed, her two sons, Zayne and 6-year-old Zander, were taken from her home and put into foster care.
I blame it all on Roger Clemens. Mindy started a 10-year-long affair with Roger when she was just 15 years old. Mindy's life did the slow wall slide after that. I know that Mindy's life was a Lifetime movie and a sad country song, but I really thought that maybe just maybe Mindy would kick all her demons (as they say) and have a comeback.
And I just want to close my ears to everything Dr. Drew will say about this.
Rest in peace, Mindy McCready.
UPDATE: And here's ten more dollops of sadness. Mindy also shot her dog friend too. Rest in peace, Doggy McCready.
Well, here's a shitty and awful story to ruin everybody's Valentine's Day. Oscar Pistorius became an instant Olympic hero and national treasure in South Africa this past summer when he made history by becoming the first double amputee sprinter to ever compete at the Olympics. And now Oscar Pistorius is sitting in a jail, because the police in South Africa think that he shot and killed his girlfriend Reeva Steenkamp at his house in Pretoria early this morning.
The New York Times says that the local media in Pretoria is reporting that this could've been a Valentine's Day surprise gone wrong in the worst way possible. The rumor (which probably came from the brain of Oscar's lawyer) is that Reeva planned to surprise him and snuck into his house right before 4 this morning. Oscar heard noises in his house and thought a burglar was inside, so he grabbed his gun, went downstairs and shot Reeva thinking she was an intruder. When the paramedics arrived, they found that Reeva had been shot in the chest, head and arms. She was pronounced dead on the scene.
A police spokesperson Brig. Denise Beukes waved that rumor away and knows that something in the milk ain't clean about that story. Denise Beukes told reporters that the police have been called to Oscar's house before over complaints of a "domestic nature." Denise wouldn't say anything else.
26-year-old Oscar was charged with murder and an application for bail is probably going to be denied during a hearing tomorrow. Pretoria was recently named the home robbery capital of South Africa and most people own guns to protect themselves. Oscar said in a New York Times Magazine profile that he owns several guns and keeps them in a display case. The night before his interview with the New York Times Magazine, Oscar said the security alarm in his house went off and he immediately grabbed his gun and went downstairs. It turned out to be nothing.
Reeva was a 30-year-old model, reality star and law school graduate. She had been dating Oscar for only two months. Just yesterday, she was tweeting about Valentine's Day.
I watch way too much 48 Hours Mysteries and Dateline NBC to believe the whole burglar story. I don't know how your ass can shoot a burglar four times without realizing that the burglar is actually your girlfriend. I'm looking at that story with a Keith Morrison squint. And if you were planning on surprising your piece this VD, maybe it's best to just slide a card under their door instead.
Here's Oscar outside of the police station this morning.
Ed Koch, the former mayor of New York City and Judge Wapner's successor on The People's Court, died early this morning in NYC of congestive heart failure. Ed was 88.
Ed was in and out of the hospital during the past few months and he suffered from everything from a lung ailment to anemia and pneumonia. The New York Post says that Ed was admitted to the hospital on Monday and when he got worse, he was moved to ICU yesterday.
After serving in the US House of Representatives for almost 10 years, Ed was the Mayor of NYC from 1978 to 1989. Many thought he pulled NYC out of a mound of financial messiness, but there were also a lot of people who felt that Ed Koch closed his eyes and ears to the AIDS crisis hitting NYC in the 80s. Playwright and gay-rights activist Larry Kramer wrote a character based on Ed Koch in his play The Normal Heart and made it perfectly clear that he had zero love for Ed Koch. At one point, they both lived in the same building (AWKWARD!) and in the lobby, Ed walked up to Larry and Larry's dog Molly and started petting her. Larry pulled Molly away from him and yelled, "Molly, you can’t talk to him. That is the man who killed all of Daddy’s friends." Molly looked up and Larry Kramer and her eyes said, "Um, you know my ass can't talk, right?"
Larry also outed Ed Koch, but Ed Koch never came out and said he was gay. But did talk about it to reporters:
"Listen, there's no question that some New Yorkers think I'm gay, and voted for me nevertheless. The vast majority don't care, and others don't think I am. And I don't give a shit either way!"
I wasn't in NYC during the 80s, so my only memories of Ed Koch are of watching him smack down tricks on People's Court while I swallowed a Cup 'O Noodles. But I wish I was in NYC during the 80s and the 90s and I wish I lived in Larry and Ed's building at the time, because that's where the drama was.
RIP, Ed Koch.
Last year, platinum recording artist Blue Ivy Carter released a song (ft. Jay-Z) and in it Jay-Z rapped about how Beyonce had a miscarriage before getting pregnant with B.I.C. Beyonce and Jay-Z never talked or rapped about it again. But in the HBO documentary about Beyonce, starring Beyonce, directed by Beyonce, produced by Beyonce, edited by Beyonce, catered by Beyonce, costumed by Beyonce, production designed by Beyonce, choreographed by Beyonce and gaffed by Solange (Beyonce had to give Basement Baby something to do!), Beyonce gets deep and talks about the song she wrote after having a miscarriage. E! News says that in the beyoncementary that airs next month, she says:
"About two years ago, I was pregnant for the first time. And I heard the heartbeat, which was the most beautiful music I ever heard in my life. I picked out names. I envisioned what my child would look like...I was feeling very maternal.
I flew back to New York to get my checkup—and no heartbeat. Literally the week before I went to the doctor, everything was fine, but there was no heartbeat. I went into the studio and wrote the saddest song I've ever written in my life. And it was actually the first song I wrote for my album. And it was the best form of therapy for me, because it was the saddest thing I've ever been through."
Beyonce never says the name of the song she wrote and she doesn't say what album it's on or if it even made the album. And if you need to hug your heart with a puppy after reading that, here you go.
And on a different note, Beyonce's beyoncementary was put together using the thousands of hours of footage her personal visual director has shot of her over the years and stored in her personal Beyonce library. Beyonce doesn't stop there either. Beyonce knows of every Beyonce-related moment that has happened on this planet. So look up, you see that spider on your ceiling. That's not a spider. It's a camera recording you reading about Beyonce and a ceiling spider camera recorded me writing about Beyonce. We're not living in a nanny state. We're living in a Beyonce state!
Here's a few pictures from Beyonce's Instagram of her rehearsing for the Super Smoke A Bowl.
For the past 40 years, Hugh Hefner has gone through dozens of blonde hos, several wives, hundreds of wet nurses and he's probably shed his lizard skin at least 1,000 times, but there's one thing in his life that hasn't changed and that's his personal secretary and right hand woman. Mary O'Connor was Hugh Hefner's personal secretary for 40 years and now she's in heaven giving love advice to the slutty blonde angels.
Last night, a single tear drop fell into Hef's tapioca pudding pack as he tweeted about the passing of his main confidante.
"Mary passed away today. We loved her more than words can say."
Mary was in her 80s and had been in the hospital with the sicks for a while. Mary held down the office in the Playboy Mansion for a million years and worked for Hef even longer. Mary was regularly on Girls Next Door and she was the heart of the Playboy Mansion. She was a fresh, innocent, sweet flower in a garden full of whores.
Mary is now up in the heavens with Captain Bob. Yes, Captain Bob floated up to heaven too. Hugh Hefner is outliving them all. Hugh Hefner will outlive us all. Rest in peace, Mary.
And now Todd Bridges is the last surviving member of the Drummond family. Because TMZ says that Conrad Bain, who played Mr. Drummond for all 8 seasons of Diff'rent Strokes, has floated up to the great, big penthouse in the sky where Dana Plato and Gary Coleman were waiting for him. Conrad's family was with him when he passed away at an independent living facility on Monday night. Conrad was 89 and would've turned 90 on February 4th.
Conrad was born in Canada and acted in some plays at the Stratford Shakespeare Festival before he moved to NYC. Conrad acted in a bunch of productions on Broadway before he sashayed onto our TV screens as Dr. Harmon in Maude and the legendary Mr. Drummond. Conrad's daughter Jennifer said that he was "an amazing father" and "a lot like Mr. Drummond but much more interesting in life."
Conrad is survived by his daughter Jennifer, his two sons and his twin brother Bonar Bain. Um, is it a bad time to say that I really want to know more about this Bonar Bain?
Rest in peace, Mr. Drummond! May heaven be a place where the phrase "Watcha talking about you know the rest..." is illegal.