Tagged: celebs

SpaceBrew Review: Love and Other Drugs

Now here’s a movie that needs a nod. I rented this movie based solely on the title and the rating it had on Netflix, thinking it was a chick-flick, and my red-haired wife and I could enjoy it together over caramel popcorn and bourbon. Now see that, ladies? I am a man who is not opposed to renting something I think my red-haired wife will enjoy, and watching it with her. I’m quite a catch, if you think about it.

Anyway, this is a fairly original storyline, not too overdone, and pretty well written. A young woman (Anne Hathaway) is diagnosed with Parkinson’s and runs into a young man who has just gotten into the pharmaceutical sales business. Think Steel Magnolias or Philadelphia. But see, it’s not really a chick-flick. It’s more of an emotional drama that should appeal to anyone with a heart than just to women. Well, it should also appeal to any red-blooded man who wants to see Anne Hathaway naked.

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SpaceBrew Review: The Time Traveler’s Wife

After several years of deliberating and delaying and any other excuses I could find to put it off, I’ve finally finished building my HTPC. To you lay folk out there, that stands for Home Theater Personal Computer. And let me tell you: you need to get yourself one of these bad boys.

Anyway, the point is that since I have finally finished it out, my red-haired wife and I have been watching a lot more movies. And she’s even stayed awake for a few of them. I know, I know, most of what I write on this site is fictitious, but trust me, this is true! And last night she stayed awake through the entire viewing of The Time Traveler’s Wife.

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I just got my FACE rocked off.

Seriously, dudes, I have to tell you about our night Friday night! Okay, well – okay, well hang on. Let me catch my breath. It’s Saturday morning here – well, feels like morning, it’s actually well after noon – but I got my damn face (and most of my ass, neck, thighs, back and arms) rocked the hell off last night. Son of a bitch. Okay, let me back up a little though.

I was sitting at my damn desk at work when the HR director came up to my desk and said, “Hey, yo, Space. I got these tickets, dude,” and gave me four tickets to Nickelodeon Storytime at Verizon Theatre. And yes, they spell it with the tre instead of the ter. Idiots obviously don’t know the difference in the definitions. Anyway, yeah, we took the girls to the theater to see the Backyardigans and Dora the Explorer on stage and all that. They loved it, of course.

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Retirement Party: This Weekend

So when I heard the news that Brett Farve was finally retiring, I sighed and shook my head, then went to sit on the sofa with a beer. As I was in motion dropping into sitting position, a news flash came on saying he had changed his mind. Again. Now I don’t actually have television service of any kind, and the radio was not on. But a news flash surely did happen, and – well, I just knew he wasn’t really retiring. And now I’m kind of getting a little tired of his Barbra Streisand-like retirement hoopla. Dude, I don’t care how many times you “retire”, you’re only getting one party.

Seriously, how many times can one really ‘retire’ anyway? Take the Eagles, for instance. When Don Henley said, “We’ll get back together when hell freezes over…” everyone believed him. But does anyone believe you can get a snowcone in hell right now? From what I hear they’re touring again, and they’ve even got a new quarterback. Wait. Not that the Eagles. It’s like the ‘in’ thing to do right now is to retire, take a few months off, and come back acting like it’s a whole new gig. Sorry though, Poison. No one wants to hear your new stuff. They only want to hear Unskinny Bop and Talk Dirty to Me.

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Talking Pillows with Jessica Simpson

Greetings, SpaceBrewers, and welcome back to another edition of the Daily Brew, with Space. You know sometimes we have celebrities stop by the offices here at corporate, and we are usually very cordial with them; invite them in, sit and talk with them, give them bacon and coffee, you know, the usual. Other times we’re simply too busy to accomodate them, and have to turn them away at the door. We just don’t have time to see every single fan of the site personally, you know? It makes us sad, and in a perfect world, we would. But this isn’t a perfect world, is it?

Anyway, occasionally, some of our Hollywood friends will stop in and say hi, and we’ll set up our recording device and interview them as a courtesy to give them some momentum on whatever they’re currently promoting. Remember, for instance, when Michael Crichton stopped by the Brew to promote his new book? And the times Stephen Cannell did the same thing? Those were nice instances of when they stopped by and we made them feel accommodated. There have been others, of course, like when Charlize Theron stopped by and I interviewed her, but it got a little out of hand, she crawled over the table and we started making out right there. I had only asked her a few questions when the interview was suddenly over, and we’re suddenly naked right there in the front conference room, just going at it. Obviously, that’s not very appropriate for the site.

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Farewell, old friend.

Yesterday, one of my favorite authors of all time passed away at the age of 66. He had been privately battling cancer. Michael Crichton wrote some of the greatest science fiction stories I’ve ever read, and more times than not, I found myself wondering if they were reports on events that actually happened. The Andromeda Strain and Terminal Man, for instance – both written like essays on actual events – yet, not at the expense of thrill and good storytelling.

In his later years, Michael began politicizing his writing to the point I almost couldn’t stomach the read anymore. State of Fear was one, then Next was really not even worth reading, in my opinion. I don’t want to use this space to bash Michael’s writing, but to say that it was evident he had an agenda. Maybe this explains some of that.

At any rate, he will be remembered well, and missed. I will have to add yet another date to my calendar where I drink a short of scotch in remembrance of someone. Rest in peace, old chap.

There’s a letter in your mailbox!

Shit, piss, f**k, cunt, c**ksucker, motherf**ker, tits – fart, turd and twat. That’s what I wanted to scream out this morning when I heard George Carlin passed away last night. He died of heart failure in the hospital at the age of 71. Supposedly he checked himself in yesterday afternoon, complaining of chest pains. Now he’s dead.

George CarlinCarlin was my favorite comedian of all time. He speaks to the commoner with his jokes, and relates to us in those little ways that remind us we’re all human. Like, “Have you ever looked at your watch, and then didn’t know what time it was? So you look again, and you still don’t know. So you look again, then someone asks you – ‘What time is it?’ – and you say, ‘I don’t have any freakin’ clue!'” Almost all of his jokes were like that in early years.

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Cannell The Man

Shine and I ran up to the Barnes and Noble last night to meet Stephen Cannell. Again. Remember when I met him the first time? Yeah, he was just as cool. So I wanted to go in there and first of all get him to remember me. He has some family attachment to Spaceyville, where I live. He said last time I met him, “Oh yeah, I know Spaceyville! I’m up there all the time!” So on my post-it note I put ‘Brian from Spaceyville’ so maybe it would jog his memory. It did. He remembered me.

Then I wanted to pass him my book so that maybe he could read something good for a change. I kid, I kid. No, for real, last time we met he told me to mail him a copy. Well I never heard back from him. So I just took him a copy tonight, slid it across the table and said, “Yeah Steve, we actually have something in common. I design my own bookcovers as well.” He was like, “That’s great!” So he asked when I had finished it, and if I had anything else. I told him, “Yeah, I’ve finished my second novel, halfway through my third.” He complimented me and shook my hand. Then I got my picture taken with him. He grabbed both books and held them up for the photo. Pretty awesome picture, if I might say so myself.

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Another Run-In With Aria

As most of you probably remember, I had somewhat of a “run-in” with a fairly well known lady a couple of years ago at a movie expo. It was a pretty rad experience for me, since I’ve considered myself somewhat of a fan of hers. Ever since that video where she used the baby oil she’s been pretty close to the top of my list.

Anyway, I think it’s worth mentioning that I ran into her again, though this time it wasn’t such a collision as just a “seeing her in public” episode. But wait – let me back up a little. I first ‘ran into her’ in March or April of 2005. Then I saw her again at an adult expo of some sort where a buddy and I went just to see her. We heard she’d be in town, blah blah blah, went and said hi and got a snap with her. Didn’t really have time to talk. But this was about three weeks after the first time I met her.

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LeeLee Got Awesome!

I used to sort of consider myself an expert on breasts and breast theory. Breastism, as I like to call it. I could tell you if they were fake or real at just a cursory glance. Even half-covered. I based this expertise on the fact that I’ve seen (and felt) so many of them in my day. I’m talking like five or six of them, okay? Yeah. But, as any technology, I guess, so has this one advanced with age.

My God, it's full of stars...Breast implantism. I guess with enough years, and having found the right ingredients, we can expect them to look more and more real as the doctors get better and better at making the fake titties. If you’ve read half of what I’ve written, you know I stand against this. I would take small, funny-shaped saggers over perfectly formed fake ones anyday. And that’s because of how they feel. You can make them look as much like what you think is “the perfect breast” as possible, and if they don’t feel right – meh. I’m out.

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Meeting another hero.

Remember way back in 2002 when I met Michael Crichton? Well, about two months ago, when I started reading The Plan by Stephen Cannell, I checked out his website and saw he had a book signing coming up, close to home. So I marked it on the calendar. Tonight was that night.

So I rolled up there with Stout and checked out his discussion session about the new book. About twenty people were there in the seats listening as he talked about how he made it in the business. Need credentials? He’s written more shows than I can count. Basically, he’s the fucing man. Anyway, after the discussion, he took one question (the guy asked a question that required a long ass answer, and Stephen warned us it would take a long time, and was real cool about it, then told it…) he started signing books. So I got my book signed, and I asked him, “Is there any way I can send you a book?” He asked what genre it was and whatnot, and said he typically only reads within his genre, and he reads slowly because of his condition (he’s dyslexic) but said yeah, send it on. He loves to read, and said he’ll get to it when he can.

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Minnesota Chronicles, Vol. 1

What’s there to say about the fine state of Minnesota? Uh, well we’ll see if we can find anything worth saying. I flew in this morning to visit a friend, and – having never been here before – wanted to see the sites. Or is that sights… Either way, there were some things rhyming with “ites” that I had come to see. Let me back up a little though.

I’ll start with the plane flight. We were delayed in taking off by almost an hour. Sigh. Okay, I don’t mind sitting in the terminal. I started a paperback my friend Jim had given me. Called Jupiter. By Ben Bova. Have you read it? Well it may be the kind of book you only read in airport terminals, I’ll have to wait and see. Anyway, I had my iPod playing and was making eyes with a couple of honeys, so I wasn’t terribly upset. Fifty minutes late, we finally boreded. (Boarded. Yeah, I’m full of it today.)

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Backstage Pass

My dad was in the music distribution business for thirty-five years or so. To me this translated to many perks, because though he sold the hell out of all the popular artists, he scarcely liked any of it. I was therefore given boxes and boxes of albums, CDs, tapes, stickers, promo posters, album artwork, concert tickets and backstage passes. My room as a teenager was covered with shiny colorful posters of hundreds of bands – most of which I’d never even heard. By the time I was twenty I’d probably been to a hundred concerts.

I have a few stories of those encounters – some of which are forgettable – but others are pretty good, and good for punk rock points. I would work summers at the distribution plant, stacking CDs on shelves, pulling stock from boxes and other miscellaneous bullshit. I was thirteen, fourteen, fifteen at the time. And they paid me one CD per hour. That wasn’t bad considering. I had a free ride at home, so I didn’t really need money as much as I needed the music.

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Cast of Characters

Stout and I sat on the balcony overlooking my pool for one or several hours last night. I don’t know why we didn’t get in the pool. Well, probably because we were drinking pretty heavily and it was dark. We came up with some pretty good character assignments for my books, should they ever be made into movies. For those of you who’ve read Midnight’s Park, check this list out and tell me what you think.

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The Burbank Chronicles, Vol. 1

I flew out to Burbank last night for an early morning appointment today. I’ve never been to Burbank, so the experience has been unique. I have been to California many times, but never this far south I guess. Anyway, a couple of things that have happened have been journalworthy, so I’ll write about them here.

I got to the counter at the Burbank Hilton and they gave me my room key – a 200-dollars-a-night king on the seventh floor. Yeah, that’s right. Two hundred dollars. Yawn. I’m not terribly impressed. The bed was nice, but the room was warm and smelled like fresh possum ass. It didn’t look all posh like I’d expected. I mean come on. It’s a Hilton. Anyway, when I got out of the elevator to go to my room, I didn’t pass Paris Hilton in the hallway.

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Oh, you mean that Pamela Anderson!

For years I’ve been looking at Pamela Anderson and wondering what the hell. I look at all the same pictures everyone else does, I suppose. I check the celebrity sites sometimes to see who’s showing their boobies in public. And I’ve seen just about all her pictures. I have actually even actively sought out her pictures on several occasions for research purposes. Seriously, she never did anything for me. I would look at them to see if I could see what the big deal was for everyone. And I never did.

Yeah she's all right I guess.Until I saw her new show on Fox, called Stacked. I don’t know what it is about seeing her in action, but obviously she became three-dimensional at that point. Of course I’ve seen “the video”. Again, it did nothing for me. But now that I’ve seen her acting and being more than a two-dimensional image in a picture, I’ve begun to find her attractive. She’s definitely got charisma. She’s remarkably charming, and I’d never have guessed it.

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Run-in with Aria

I got the opportunity to attend a new release movie expo the other day with Kimbre, who is an exec at a company that handles the accounting for Blockbuster. I had to of course dress up, which I’m not terribly fond of these days, but I threw a shirt and tie on the iron board and ended up enjoying myself quite a bit. I didn’t know what to expect, having never been to one of these expos, but there were a lot celebrities there. I thought that was pretty cool, and realized this was probably a little bit bigger deal than I had originally thought. I saw Willem Dafoe and Carl Weathers, Colin Firth and Julia Stiles. Probably the biggest star there was Will Smith. That was pretty nifty – though I didn’t get to talk to him or anything. But the one thing that made this event really worth going to was the little run-in I had with a C-List celebrity. Actually, if it weren’t for her fisting videos on the Internet, I doubt anyone would ever have heard of her.

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A Day With No Turkey

Can you believe it’s been a month and a half since I contributed? Well, I feel worthless. But hey, tomorrow’s Thanksgiving Day! A lot has happened in the last month and a half that I guess you should know about. I got a job (a real one). I work with an old high school buddy of mine now at an IT place doing – well, doing IT stuff. I no longer dread going to work.

The baby has gotten bigger, though it still remains within my wife’s belly. I’ve tried repeatedly to get it to come out and join the world, as we’re no doubt ready for it. All to no avail though, I’m afraid. And we have decided on a name if it be a boy. His name will be Kissel Ramon. Has a touch of class, you know?

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Trading Picks with Patrice

Heather and I are very big fans of Patrice Pike and the Black Box Rebellion. We go see them every time they come to Dallas. We’ve often driven to Austin to check them out, too. They are that good. It helps that our sister, Yvonne, is the world’s biggest fan, (she turned us on to them) and she lives in Austin, so we can stay with her when we make the trip down there. She’s also friends with Patrice, so it’s not rare that Patrice will come to her house to hang out for parties and we sit back in the backyard round a campfire trading guitars and songs.

At one of their shows here in Dallas at the Gypsy Tea Room, we showed up a little early to catch the openers. It was Jason and Zelina and Heather and me. Shelley King was playing that night, if I recall, and I was standing in the middle of the floor, by myself. Jason was against the wall on a barstool, and Z and Heather had gone out looking for a bite to eat.

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Blessed be She With the Boobs

Damn those are pretty.Speaking of women who like to show off their cleavage… Heather Graham sure has been doing a lot of that lately.

I know everyone appreciates a little cleavage in his java, but I think something’s up when a woman just all of a sudden starts wearing revealing clothing. Now I’m not saying she never has, but I don’t remember a trend as such. Recently, every event she’s attended, she’s graced us with a lot of between-the-boobs skin. It’s fine with me. But we haven’t been able to get her to take her top off since Boogie Nights. Is she trying to tell us something? Well, we’re ready to listen, Roller Girl!

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Celebrity Run-In: Michael Crichton

My sister called me this morning and told me Michael Crichton was going to be signing books at the Wal-Mart in Euless, and she’d heard about it on the local radio station. So we blazed out there after work and got in line. I bought myself a book as well as one for my sister, since she told me about it. He’s every bit as cool as I thought he’d be.

   

At first, while shaking his hand, I asked him if I could come around back and get a picture taken with him. His security guard said, “No, no, move on please.” Then Michael looked up as I was walking away and said, “Did you want a picture with me? That’s fine, come on back here, Space.” So I went back and got the shot. That was pretty bad ass of him. You know he probably wouldn’t just do that for anyone. But since he knew I’d be writing about it on a major website, he was cool with it. Well, that, and plus we’re old friends too.

Storm’s Run-in with Tiffany

My associate and good friend Storm had a little run in today. Being a professional photographer, he “happened to be” at the Tower Records Playboy Signing tonight. so he caught some excellent pictures of Tiffany. Oh. My. God. I was just talking about liking Tiffany and that she’s in the new Playboy and everything then he suddenly comes along and sends me pictures of himself with her. Bastard.

I think she looks better in these photos than the Playboy ones. Well besides the fact that she isn’t naked, I mean, she just looks more natural. No airbrushing either. And those tits! I think the buttons on that shirt must have popped off. These are four of the fifty or so that he sent me. And of course, I bled the color out and pasted a tag on them for his benefit. But if you want to see more, you can carry your lazy ass over to his site and order the full size ones. Eat your heart out, kinetic kim:


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A Childhood Dream Comes True

Sweet goodness look at those boobs.I was sitting at a bar with my cousin and a friend this weekend having some beers, catching up on stuff. Well, we’re kind of regulars there, so we get on pretty well with the bartender. Anyway, she comes up and says, “Remember little Tiffany? The singer?” I was like, “Yeah. Of course. I used to adore her.” She says, “Well check this out,” and flops the magazine down on the bar. Lo and behold, there in front of me are Tiffany’s voluptuous breasts. I was disgusted. I can’t stand looking at women’s breasts, you know? Especially when they are that large and round and soft, and when I used to be infatuated with said person.

But it’s little Tiffany. Remember the pop singer from about 15 years ago (God, has it been that long?) who sang such hits as “I Think We’re Alone Now” and “I Saw Him Standing There”? When I was thirteen I was in love with her. I had Tiffany posters and her album, and many fantasies to boot. She was hotter than the lit end of a cigarette. I even went and saw her in concert, and some band we’d never heard of opened up for her. They were called New Kids on the Block. We saw her at the Six Flags Music Mill Amphitheatre. Oh what a show. And now this. Oh yes, my friends. My day has finally come. (So to speak.)

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Tina Fey: The New Sex Object

I hope everyone had a fantastic Christmas. Or if you don’t celebrate Christmas I hope you enjoyed your holidays. Of course, my opinion is that if you don’t celebrate Christmas, you shouldn’t get the holiday. You should have to work. Why give someone a free day when they don’t celebrate it? People always seem to whine about getting the day after or before Easter off, but they don’t even believe in Jesus. What gives? Anyway, I had a great Christmas. Glad to be back at work though, let me tell you. It sucks being away from work for so long. It’s like my oxygen. It runs through my veins.

You know who I think is sexy? Take it or leave it, but I think Tina Fey is on the rise. She is the chick from Saturday Night Live’s Weekend Update. I think those thick-framed black glasses and messy hair are in. The librarian type chick is definitely sexy.

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