rivercityvibe   “Puerile, smutty, schoolboy nonsense” – My Mom

This is a classic. All you have to do is hang with the likes of Sarkozy – a serial adulterer (it’s okay in France) who recently married a popular singer (and ex-model) –  for a while. Eventually some of that Gallic sexual permissiveness will rub off. Here is our President, dropping his guard:

I don’t know about you, but that sort of thing warms the cockles of my heart.

Reminds me of the good ol’ days under Clinton………

It’s that time again. This is for last weekend, by the way. You may have noticed, I am a bit behind currently. I’ve been busy with VERY important business. On a barely related matter, I note that President Obama and Russian President Medvedev have finally reached an agreement on nuclear arms limitation.

So, in celebration of the slightly smaller chance that the world implodes according to the principles of Mutually Assured Destruction, here is a super hot bikini babe who happens to be Russian:

Well done, tovarich. Well done indeed. For the record, this is Irina Sheik (born Irina Shaykhlislamova on January 6, 1986 [Bones Note: Sagittarius] in Yemanzhelinsk, Russia). Her family are of Cossack extraction.

Awesome all round, basically.

It will hardly shock you to hear that I dreamed about Lindsay, last night. You might be more surprised when you hear it wasn’t the usual one (the one when she’s naked and I’m on top of the armoire in my Batman suit). No, it was a new and altogether less fun version, which involved my regular thing and Los Angeles public transport (I know, there isn’t any in real life. My dreams tend to distort reality. For instance, this one time, I knew Kung Fu and could speak Chinese. That was actually a very cool dream. I think it was brought on by early oral administration of my customary double Ambien and Glenfiddich).

Anyway, it reminded me that we were due to check in with rivercityvibe favorite, accomplished actress Lindsay Lohan. Here she is at her recent birthday party:

A publicist working for a Brit comedian of sorts who goes by the name of Russell Brand has put out some rumors that Brand spurned Lindsay’s amorous advances recently (interestingly enough Russell Brand is also the name of a high school friend of mine who was, sadly, afflicted with both eczema and asthma. We called him Flaky Face). The rumors, however, seem unlikely. This is Brand. He look like he could do with a wash. And a haircut:

Not for nothing does he self-describe as a sort of “S&M Willy Wonka.” He looks like he would have made love to Lindsay in much the same way as Gene Wilder might have, if we’d spiked him with a quaalude.

It was raining when I left Bones’ Hideout this morning, so I decided to forgo my customary experimental jetpack (I forwent it) and travel instead via the internet. It takes about as long to reach Bones HQ, but it’s drier.

However I travel, I do so to music. This morning I listened to Portishead.

They completely rock.

Check it out.

I know. I am fuelling trip-hop obsessions all over Florida. That’s how I roll.

I doubt it. Being (if I may quote from Gawker), “one of America’s most staggering dipshits” is not compatible with  membership of the rivercityvibe faithful. This is not something we enforce, it just happens that way……

Unfortunately, CNN, a once great TV news organization, has become little more than an entertainment channel for the very stupid. The latest example of their journalism is this EXCLUSIVE investigation into Michael Jackson’s ghost:

There. It turns out a crew member walked passed a lighting fixture, creating a shadow on the wall.

Of course, it has to be CNN. Don’t get me started on these fuckers. I couldn’t give a fat rat’s ass about the so-called liberal bias, but I deeply resent the feeling that I am becoming MORE STUPID second-by-second as I watch American Morning.

(I watch it daily in the vain hope that I may, once again, espy Kiran Chetry’s thong.

Don’t judge me).

Simply by watching this “investigation”, you have created a hole in your intellect, equivalent to a three-month post graduate course in French Revolutionary Art and Politics.

Back to school, dipshits.

We are having a double picture post in celebration of the amazing thing that happened 233 years ago when a load of rich slave owners decided they didn’t want to pay their taxes any more.

The first is Chantelle Houghton. Hot! The second is Jordan, AKA Katie Price who is in the process of getting divorced from an obvious gay who is pretending to be nailing….. wait for it…..Chantelle Houghton.

Chantelle is smoking (A bit chubby, though. In a good way). Jordan is more of a curiosity.

That’s my opinion.

Discuss.

You know when those guys, with their drink on, interrupt live TV? It’s always awesome, isn’t it? I always hope that the reporter is going to lose his or her temper and lay the guy out flat before calmly carrying on with the story. That’s what happened in the old days, apparently. This guy, one “Steve Ryan” by name looks like he wants to, but never quite manages it.

For the record slapping a guy in the face in the style of that one guy, Carson Kressley (made-up name), does not count.

The faces of the anchors at 0.33 are beyond awesome.

They’re dropping like flies. The bearded mathematician Billy Mays cashed in his chips, the other day. For those members of the faithful who live overseas and are clueless as to who this guy is, he’s like the shamwow guy, but without the driving urge to kick the shit out of prostitutes. Basically, if Michael Jackson was the King of Pop, Billy Mays was the king of….errrr…infomercials.

The usual source tells us:

Mays suffered from hypertensive heart disease and that … was the likely cause of his death, though a final determination as to the cause of death would not be made until toxicology and tissue tests are completed

I can imagine there’s quite a line at the VIP entrance to heaven, right now. St. Peter will be manning the guest list, demanding that potential entrants stay behind the red sash until he has verified their identities. In an effort to expedite the process Farrah Fawcett will be fluttering her eyelashes, Michael Jackson will be moonwalking and crying SHA MON at every opportunity. I like to think Billy Mays will jump straight to the front by offering St. Peter a once-in-a-lifetime, two-for-one deal on Oxiclean……….

Not many people seem to remember this, but there were two celebu-deaths on Thursday. A few hours before Michael Jackson, Farrah Fawcett joined the choir invisible, too.

remember when she was called Farrah Fawcett-Majors?

This is what hot was in the seventies. Bigger hair, smaller chests. It wasn’t so bad, really……..

I post a picture of Lindsay Lohan licking her lips. Megan Fox decides she needs to be in on it too.

I am fine with that whole deal. Seriously. Fine with it.

If anyone has any more pics of chicks licking their lips in this way, I’ll post them like they’re going out of fashion…..

I guess this sort of post is why the Florida Times Union has banned me from their website.

Not highbrow enough for them.

(LAG!)