Pass by a newsstand, gaze at the tabloids or watch 5 minutes of E! and you're almost guaranteed to see a story about one of these famous faces.

Why?

Cause they're the publicity whores.

The stars (for lack of a better word) that will go anywhere as long as there are cameras present.

Above: one of eight not-scary photos of Amy Winehouse known to exist

There's no doubt that Amy Winehouse is a powerhouse of musical talent.

And I'm not here to judge her extracurricular activities -- who among us hasn't had a wee nip of the sauce now and then? Or a tiny bump or two of the booger-sugar? Or the occasional 4-day weekend spent shakily holding a flame under a broken lightbulb?

I'm not even going to stoop to calling her ugly, even though she's been compared to a mesmerized chicken and a monkey pig in the comments of this very blog. In fact, I thought she was pretty damn sexy when I first saw her, in the video for You Know I'm No Good. She certainly wasn't what you'd call classically beautiful -- I'm sure those hair and makeup artists didn't come cheap -- and a large part of her sex appeal was that throaty, soulful voice. Still, apparently she could be made very photographable, to say the least, (see above) without slaughtering a goat in the name of Beelzebub.

Sure, Allure magazine is probably not going to offer Ms. Winehouse the position of Health & Beauty editor any time soon, but hey, plenty of supermodels have their bad days, too, when they're off the runway, picking up cigarettes and Diet Coke in their baby food-stained sweats. It's just that the paparazzi don't seem to publish those images -- or the less-than-perfect images of any other person on the planet, really -- with the frequency or enthusiasm of bad Amy Winehouse pics.

It's kind of a chicken/egg thing really -- were there always these sorts of bedheaded, makeup-smeared mornings (okay, late afternoons, probably) occurring before she was famous, and it's just that they weren't documented by swarms of omnipresent paparazzi trying to one-up each other? Or is Amy Winehouse truly getting more and more scary looking?

But whatever. Let the hand-wringing pseudo-psychologists who fart out celebrity gossip show sound bites figure that shit out. All theories of causation aside, the fact remains, for whatever reason: there are a hell of a lot of scary-as-fuck photos of Amy Winehouse out there. Here are some of the scariest -- brace yourself.

The gaming world is excitedly bracing for a major paradigm shift with next month's release of Spore, the latest brainchild of SimCity mastermind Will Wright. Perhaps the most highly anticipated video game of all time -- it was first mentioned publicly at the Game Developers Conference in 2005 -- Spore will allow players to control the evolution of an entire simulated species, from single cells swimming in cosmic soup, all the way to interstellar-travelling super-beings.

Featuring painstakingly crafted AI and a beyond-accessible user interface, the game promises to be not just fun for traditional Sim enthusiasts, but also a potentially fascinating angle for examining such varied subjects as biology, cosmology, zoology, evolution, cultural anthropology, space travel, and more.

After several release-date delays, Electronic Arts finally wet the public's whistle somewhat with the June release of the Spore Creature Creator. While lacking most of the evolutionary and interactive features of the full game, the Creature Creator nonetheless gave millions of fans plenty to work with in the mean time. Users could play God and create whatever creatures they wanted, even uploading their demo videos to YouTube with a built-in widget. Players were limited only by their imaginations.

So, of course, the first creature everybody made was a giant dick-and-balls.

Here are 10 of the most entertaining.

They're big.

And tall.

And wide.

And made of hard stuff like marble, granite, brick and steel.

Careful, if you rub them to hard they might explode.

"Give my regards to Broadway, remember me to Herald Square, tell all the gang at Forty-Second Street that I will soon be there."
George M. Cohan


The translation from film to stage musical and stage musical to film and then back again has been going on since the talkies were first invented.

What has not happened enough, is films that aren't musicals being made into lavish Broadway productions. That we need more of.

Such as a stage production of King Kong. Then we could hear the ape's side of the story. Through song. A few films have been translated into full-blown Bollywood hootenannies. Including Fight Club. That's not a joke. The Indians have the leg up on this.

The following are ten movies that should be made into Broadway musicals.

This week the second X-Files film, I Want To Believe, will arrive at your local multi-plex. I'm excited.

This may be foolish, I don't know.

The X-Files stands as not only a definitive pop culture milestone of the 90's, it contains some of the best storytelling in television history.

The show was suspenseful, scary and well crafted. There was a savvy blend of modern story devices and old school monster-movie magic.

And man, were there some beautiful monsters.

Dear World,

I don't know about you, but I sure am tired of hearing the following 50 words, terms and phrases. Whaddya say we stuff 'em all in that storage locker, between "Who let the dogs out?" and "metrosexual," and maybe break 'em out again, say, 2033-ish?

Thanks!

Love,
Jeem

PS: If you want to bring back "Where's the beef?" I think now would be an OK time, at least until mad cow disease really takes hold and newspapers start using it as a headline.

And now, without further ado...

I guess you could blame zillions of dollars in lawsuits, a decade of those "Truth" ads, the decrepitly slimy Smoking Man from The X Files, or perhaps some combination of all of the above, but whatever the root cause, smokers these days have it rough. Even putting aside pesky physical effects like lung cancer, emphysema, and Tater Tot-sized fetuses, the overall social status of the American cigarette smoker has slipped down somewhere between lawyers and those guys who sing the FreeCreditReport.com jingle.

These stain-fingered pariahs huddle in exile on balconies and patios, braving the elements for their nicotine fix while the rest of the party tsk-tsks in dry, air-conditioned comfort. They're the last group of people that it's socially acceptable to be openly rude to, especially if their lit cigarettes are in the same zip code as your precious honor student. After a recent $1.25/pack tax increase in New York City, 20 cigarettes now cost as much as a generously-portioned rock of crack -- but I believe you still have to cross the river into New Jersey before you can actually light up. (The cigarettes, that is -- go ahead and spark that rock right on the subway, homes.)

Once upon a time, the great Aesop wrote:

A MONKEY once danced in an assembly of the Beasts, and so pleased them all by his performance that they elected him their King. A Fox, envying him the honor, discovered a piece of meat lying in a trap, and leading the Monkey to the place where it was, said that she had found a store, but had not used it, she had kept it for him as treasure trove of his kingdom, and counseled him to lay hold of it. The Monkey approached carelessly and was caught in the trap; and on his accusing the Fox of purposely leading him into the snare, she replied, "O Monkey, are you, with such a mind as yours, going to be King over the Beasts?"

Lesson learned; monkeys are funny. And good dancers. I think. I think that's the lesson, I'm not really sure. But they are funny. That's an absolute.

With that in mind, we give you the Greatest Monkeys of All-Bloody-Time.

Steak, it's what's for dessert.

And breakfast.

And lunch.

And maybe a snack the next day.

It's hot, sticky and humid outside so it must be Summer. That's reason to cheer. Except if you work in one of these ten professions.

The summer movie season is upon us. Hollywood is shipping out the bloated, over-hyped, market-research-tested, Happy-Meal-tied-in, tent pole "blockbusters" to local cinemas as we speak. Uh, read. And write. You know what I mean.

I may be a snob, but I do enjoy many a popcorn flick. For me, the most enjoyable film season is October to December, where most of the "important" films are released to the more discerning masses. The summer schedule is a lot like Nicolas Cage's IMDB credits; wildly divergent with hits and misses. Nevertheless, the studios give us enough passable $300 million monsters that entertain the masses to justify the occasional stink bomb.

Going to the movies is one of my favorite activities. Has been since I was a child. There were many times in the 80's that I would beg my folks to drop me off at the Sea-Tac Mall AMC 6 to see "Ghostbusters" or "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?" for the seventh time. I still get excited as the lights go down and the coming attractions start. I take out the candy and snacks that I've smuggled in like Red getting contraband into Shawshank, sit back and experience a wee bit of escapism for 120 minutes.

Inside my pea sized brain lies a fairly good barometer of what film I will enjoy and what film I should avoid. I usually know. But there are times that I am wrong. Way wrong. Where I thought I would enjoy a movie and ended up feeling like I was going to become Linda Blair in "The Exorcist." I begin to squirm in my seat. Then cringe at bad dialogue and awful "special" effects. And finally start whine like a little boy. "I wanna go home! Johnny no likey Michael Bay!"

There's nothing better than seeing tourists with their fanny packs and Warner Brothers branded t-shirts taking pictures of themselves with their backs to the Grand Canyon. "This is us NOT looking at one of the world's greatest natural wonders!" We all know about the Grand Canyon, The Louvre, Niagara Falls, The Pyramids, The Great Wall of China. But here's a list of amazing places you may never have heard of before.

Of course, this is just one dicks opinion, spiced up with some filthy related links.

About 15 years from now, there will be thousands of people who have covered various parts of their bodies with tattoos that are going to feel really stupid. It will no longer be trendy and they will spend the rest of their lives explaining why they have all-you-can-eat ink permanently branded on themselves.

"Well, we were in Cabo and I'd had a few margaritas. I was feeling pretty loosey-goosey, one thing led to another and well, I ended up with Calvin taking a wiz on a Florida State Seminoles logo tattooed on my forearm. I know, it's stupid." Those conversations are going to happen by the bucketful.

It's not that I think all tattoos are in poor taste. The practice is not for me personally, but to each his own. In fact, not that long ago my very conservative father had a milestone birthday and got the Rampant Lion of Scotland tatted on his bicep. It's a small nod to the heritage that we are very proud of.

I believe my father's tattoo was thought about for a long time. It was not a spontaneous or booze influenced decision. Sadly many tats are just that; either a spur of the moment purchase or inspired by too much of a favorite tipple.

With other fads, you can participate and not make it a lifetime commitment. You can take the double hoop earrings out pretend it never happened. (If you still have those, you need to take them out.) You can shave off your side-spike. You can take off your parachute pants. It's a little more of a chore to remove your Dane Cook "Su-Fi" tattoo.

(Who's going to feel more stupid down the road; The "Su-Fi" tattoo gang or those that have "Git-R-Done" permanently on their body? A tough call. It's a good thing that tattoos weren't as popular on the early 80's or their would be a few people with Yakov Smirnoff on their shoulder blade.)

Many will feel stupid, the owners of the following tattoos are going to feel like the southbound end of a northbound horse.