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Oh No They Didn't! - LiveJournal.com

older | 1 | .... | 810 | 811 | (Page 812) | 813 | 814 | .... | 4462 | newer

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    spontaneous photo shoot the other day 💜 told @dalinaway to do whatever she wanted to my hair #jonestookthis











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    Shrug off whatever Taylor Swift was doing in her embarrassing and problematic video for "Shake It Off" and make Delta Sigma Phi - Beta Mu's one-take wonder the official version you groove to. Pros include: No homophobia (good work, Frat!), no tweaking, and hella cute dudes.

    The guys who made this video at Transylvania University (which is in Kentucky and not located in Dracula's castle — although, how cool would that be?) are pretty impressive. Not only must they have rehearsed this thing forever (because this is all ONE TAKE, you guys), but they seem like they're actually a pretty nice group of dudes, too.I know you can't tell that just by looking at someone, but guys singing unironically to Taylor Swift while not doing any weird "no homo" stuff and not even trying to be sexy (or twerking) (oh god, the twerking) seem like they'd be pretty down-to-earth and let all of us just hang with them and drink beer and listen to the latest Katy Perry and discuss her feud with T-Swizzle while keeping our grades up.

    The biggest surprise for me was how many guys are in this frat. The videos I've seen about college fraternities usually feature 5-8 guys max. Live and learn, I guess!

    Is 29 & married make it too late to get a college boyfriend because umm, them guys w/ beards tho. Also, I used Jezebel as a source. Please don't judge me, ONTD. I am already judging myself

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    He has released more albums and appeared in more films in death than life. In 2012, his image was resurrected as a hologram for a performance at the Coachella Music Festival. And there have been countless “sightings” of the rapper, adding to the mythology that continues to swirl around his too-brief existence. The Guardian called him the “hip hop James Dean.” Tupac Shakur left behind a lyrical legacy that revealed an insight and inner turmoil. Caught between his role as a streetwise prophet and occasionally idealistic poet, the artist is best remembered through his words.

    “My mama always used to tell me, ‘If you can’t find somethin’ to live for, you best find somethin’ to die for.'”

    “No independent person just grew up and was born independent. You worked and you learned teamwork, and you learned cooperation and unity and struggle, and then you became independent. And we have to teach that and instill that. . . I mean, if this is truly a melting pot in the country where we care about them . . . we really need to be like that. . . . You need to help black kids, Mexican kids, Korean kids, whatever. But it needs to be real and it needs to be before we all die and then you say, ‘I made a mistake. I should have gave them some money. We really should have helped these folks.’ It’s gonna be too late. And then that’s when you’ve gotta pay your own karma. And that’s what God punishes when God punishes you.”

    “America is the biggest gang in the world.”

    “Every time I speak I want the truth to come out. Every time I speak I want a shiver. I don’t want them to be like they know what I’m gonna say because it’s polite. Im not saying I’m gonna rule the world or I’m gonna change the world, but I guarantee you that I will spark the brain that will change the world. And that’s our job, It’s to spark somebody else watching us. We might not be the one’s, but let’s not be selfish and because we not gonna change the world let’s not talk about how we should change it. I don’t know how to change it, but I know if I keep talking about how dirty it is out here, somebody’s gonna clean it up.”

    “The only thing that can kill me is death, that’s the only thing that can ever stop me, is death, and even then my music will live forever.”

    REST @ THESOURCE


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    Kristen Stewart is famous for—no, scratch that. Famous is too dinky a word to describe what Kristen Stewart is at this moment in America's cultural history. Kristen Stewart is a phenomenon for playing the girl in the Twilight movies, only, of course, she was really playing the boy. That's the secret of the franchise's appeal: It's a rehash of that tired old mothball-reeking, done-to-death, oh-Jesus-not-again Romeo and Juliet star-crossed-lovers redux, except—and here's what makes the material so fresh, gives it its kinky kick—he's Juliet and she's Romeo. Robert Pattinson's Edward Cullen—gorgeous, moody, high-strung, faintly anemic because he's a bloodsucker who refuses to suck human blood, his principles as lofty as his cheekbones—is the object of desire, and he is photographed as adoringly and fetishistically as Dietrich in any of the von Sternberg pictures. He is, as well, t
    he beast that's also the beauty, one in serious distress, cursed to be 17 forever and mateless, a Prince of Darkness without a Princess, not to mention a prom king without a queen. It's Stewart's Bella Swan, quiet and strong and full of purpose, who brings an end to his loneliness by surmounting the obstacles, both physical and metaphysical, in their path, converting to vampirism so it's possible for them to unite for all eternity. (Those feminist-watchdog types, sensitive noses aquiver for the slightest whiff of peepees-are-better-than-weewees, decrying Bella and, by extension, Stewart as some sort of self-sacrificing, female-chump retro case, have, as usual, got it wrong. If Bella falls into a gender stereotype, it's not Clinging Vine; it's White Knight. She just has enough grace—gallantry, too—never to throw in her true love's face the fact that she's the one rescuing him.)


    While we're on the subject of secret appeal, here's Stewart's: She's a lovely looking girl, possessed of both soulful intelligence and depth of feeling, yet in the blink of an eye she can turn into a hot young roughneck ready for action, for kicks, for anything. The former persona, delicate without being weak, is why she's so affecting in movies such as Into the Wild (2007) and Adventureland (2009) and On the Road(2012), the perfect match for Emile Hirsch's doomed wanderer and Jesse Eisenberg's lovelorn egghead and Garrett Hedlund and Sam Riley's word-drunk beatniks who only want to go go go even if it's to no place in particular or just into one another's beds. Which isn't to say that these numbskull boys always get it, can see what's smack-dab in front of them. (All Stewart has to do is look at Hirsch's Chris McCandless in a hurt and wondering way, and it's obvious he should bag that trip to
    the Alaskan wilderness he can't shut up about and stay with her in her parents' rig in Imperial Valley.) The latter persona, so assured it borders on arrogant, borders on macho, is why she's able to pull off the low-lidded stares of pure lust she directs at Dakota Fanning's saucer-eyed cutie-pie in The Runaways (2010). It's why she's able to pull off, too, the trick of becoming Joan Jett, the woman who proved you don't need a cock to rock, you just need to strap on that guitar, strut that stuff, and create a sound that leaps right out of the jukebox—fast, urgent, full of vitality and aggression and rollicking good times.


    Not that Stewart is the first young actress to discover what a turn-on gender ambiguity can be for an audience. Angelina Jolie, for God's sake! When Jolie went from nowhere to everywhere seemingly overnight in the late '90s, she wasn't only the hottest girl the world had ever seen, she was the hottest guy, too, with a swagger to her step, a curl to her lip, a bad to her bone: the most babelicious babe and the studliest stud, all in one. But in the past few years, it's as if she's so sexy her sexiness has come full circle. She appears complete unto herself, doesn't need another person. Her early vulnerability (the look in her eye was as often wounded as it was wounding) is something she's outgrown. Stewart, though, has still got it, and it's what makes her one of the most romantic—and exciting—female presences on the screen today.

    Okay, so that's Kristen Stewart, the movie star and sex symbol.


    I get together with Kristen Stewart, the person, at the tail end of a Monday morning in June in Culver City. We're meeting at the studio of artist Ed Ruscha. I'm from the East Coast, and tales of L.A. traffic have me good and freaked, so I arrive more than half an hour early. When Stewart shows up, on time to the minute, I'm being given a tour of a men's room filled with Marilyn Monroe tchotchkes; two dogs, both named Lola; and torn-out pictures of Jesus by Ruscha's brother, Paul. Stewart calls my cell to tell me she's outside. I open the door.


    The girl on the other side might have made an eerily convincing young Joan Jett—says the real Joan, "Kristen studied me. Watched me talk, sing, breathe, just be. It got to the point where the two of us stood together and people couldn't tell us apart"—but it's a young Elvis Presley she's a dead ringer for: same almond-shape eyes (her vivid blue-green ones were dulled to a mud brown for Twilight), outlined in black, the lids heavy, hooded; same complexion, an undead shade of white, and without a mark, as poreless as marble; same mouth, narrow but full, made to sneer. She's rock 'n' roll skinny in tight jeans, scuffed Vans, a V-neck T-shirt, a pair of sunglasses dangling from the collar, hair long and tangled and dyed a brassy red, the roots dark. The look, pure Southern California street-punk guttersnipe, is very anti-glamour-puss. But she can downplay her natural assets only so much. Do I even need to tell you tha
    t she's very, very pretty? And though now 24, she could pass for much younger—a kid, fresh out of high school.


    Stewart and I shake hands, and I introduce her around. Her manner is bashful, skittish, but she also seems eager to connect. Not just with Ruscha, who entered the room at almost the exact moment she did, but with Paul and Ruscha's assistant, Susan, and both dogs. With me, as well. Ruscha leads us into the body of the studio, which is enormous, originally built by Howard Hughes to manufacture airplane engines. At 76, he's still handsome, lean and suntanned, with a thick head of gray hair and lady-killer blue eyes. (His past girlfriends have included actress Samantha Eggar and model Lauren Hutton.) He looks less like an artist than like an old-time star of Hollywood westerns—Gary Cooper, maybe—only paint-spattered. Sounds like a western star too, not using many words when he talks, the words he does use coming out in a soft Oklahoma drawl. An ex-squeeze once called him "the king of shit-kicker cool." The title still fits.


    The rapport between Ruscha and Stewart is natural and instant. He knows she appeared in Walter Salles' adaptation of On the Road, playing Marylou, Dean Moriarty's "beautiful little sharp chick," not a day over sweet 16, first seen naked, save for a pair of white cotton undies, rolling the perfect joint. He brings out a fine-arts edition of Kerouac's novel—one of Stewart's favorites—that he created a few years ago, photographs illustrating the text. As he turns the pages, Stewart calls out the names of the objects and places pictured: now-defunct brands of beer and automobiles, a pack of filterless cigarettes—"We smoked so many of those on the shoot we thought we were going to die!"—a plate of apple pie à la mode, so-lonesome-I-could-cry stretches of Arizona highway, Mexican whorehouses. She does this not in a show-offy way but with the pleasure of recognition, because she's seeing something that mov
    es or excites her.


    After Ruscha closes On the Road, he and Stewart continue to shoot the breeze, pushing remarks easily back and forth. They're bonding over a mutual love of light leaks in photos when I'm forced to break in because of a 12:15 lunch reservation and a promise I made to Stewart's publicist not to be too much of a little piggy with her time. Ruscha pulls out two copies of his book Porch Crop, inscribes one to her, one to me, and, cowboy gracious, walks us to the door.


    Stewart and I take her black Mini Cooper, actually her mom's, to a restaurant a few blocks away. Before we walk inside, though, she ducks into a little nook/alleyway for a cigarette, which she smokes nervous-fast. Once we're at the hostess's station, I understand her momentary spasm of anxiety. Her head is bowed, posture turtled—she's practically willing herself into invisibility—and still people's eyes are drawn to her like iron filings to a magnet. Everybody stares. I mean, everybody. Even the people who look like they're not staring are staring. It's at that moment I realize—re-realize, I should say, since I knew it before meeting her but forgot after, so low-key does she seem, so unassuming, so, well, normal—just how major league a celebrity she is. Realize also that she must live much of her life at the mercy of strangers. For example, if just one of our fellow patrons decides to blow her cover by calling a news
    outlet (hey, this is L.A., people here probably have the scandal rags on speed dial) or tweeting that Oh Em Gee KStew is @ Akasha on Culver Blvd!!!, we'd have to go. Go hungry too.


    The hostess leads us to a discreet table at the restaurant's rear. A waiter drops off menus and water. Stewart takes the chair facing the wall, giving her back to the room. Once it's clear we're alone and settled and no one's going to bug us, she visibly relaxes, pushing her hair out of her face and releasing the breath she must have been holding since we stepped through the doors.


    For a minute or two we discuss the extreme weirdness of being her.


    "So, basically, you can never look at people," I say.


    "I'm obsessed with that. I'm always like, I can't look. Literally, most times, I would be staring at these girls [tilts her head to indicate which ones], but I haven't even glanced over there."


    "Can't risk eye contact with strangers, right?"


    "Right. Because then you're letting them in. But at the same time, you're like, What, I don't want to let anyone in? And, honestly, I'm super real with people. Incredibly. If someone's really cool and nice and just wants to talk, I will fucking hang out and chat all day."


    The waiter returns, and Stewart opens her menu, quickly starts scanning the options.


    While she's busy doing that, I'm going to address the big knock on her: that she doesn't like being famous or that she doesn't like being famous enough or that she's a little snot ingrate because she's insufficiently appreciative of the fame we, the public, mensches that we are, have bestowed upon her. As best I can tell, she gets this rep because there are times she doesn't say "Cheese" for the cameras. My sense of Stewart is that she's a naturally shy person, so she occasionally shrinks from the attention she provokes, and a naturally honest person, so she can't turn it on in an instant. And, okay, maybe she's a naturally rebellious person, too. And rebel spirit is in short supply in Hollywood. True rebel spirit, I mean, not just the trappings of it. There are plenty of starlets shticking badass—acquiring tattoos that can be covered with makeup, piercings that can be removed before shooting, substance addictions that a
    re also conducive to weight loss. These girls, who show up at any red-carpet event that'll have them, flashing every capped tooth in their collagen-puffed mouths, are, at bottom, eager to please, are, at bottom, cowardly. They wouldn't dream of ever telling Mr. DeMille to take his close-up and shove it. My guess is that Stewart doesn't always play nice with the media because she knows the price for playing nice is too high. You give the media what it wants, and it takes and takes until you've lost yourself entirely, have become a smiley-faced, hollow-eyed nonentity—soulless, gutless, harmless. Better to stay defiant, keep your self-respect.


    Back to lunch:


    Stewart atones for her earlier cigarette with a kale salad. I copycat her order. The waiter takes away our menus, and we start the interview proper, getting the David Copperfield stuff out of the way first. Stewart is a local girl, born and raised in the San Fernando Valley. Her mom and dad are both in the show-business business: mom a script supervisor, dad a stage manager and TV producer. Stewart, at a very young age, decided to become an actor, not out of a desire for attention but for a job. "I wanted to go to work with [my parents] and have something to do," she says. "And the only thing you can do as a kid is be an actor. I saw kids on set, and I was like, What's that about? Why are they allowed to be here?" Her family background gave her a view of the industry that was brisk, practical, totally un-starry-eyed, and she's maintained it. Tim Blake Nelson, who directed her in the soon-to-be-released Anesthesia, marvels at her "
    ;blue-collar ethos."


    Success came lickety-split. At nine, she landed the tomboy role in Rose Troche's The Safety of Objects (2001). At 10, she landed the tomboy role in David Fincher's Panic Room (2002). That she'd be a natural as Jodie Foster's daughter is a no-brainer, the two actresses matching up not just physically but temperamentally. ("Kristen was such a special, interesting, idiosyncratic child," Foster recalls.) Stewart would have to wait all the way till her eighteenth birthday for Twilight and superstardom, though when she signed on to the movie she thought, and with good reason, that it was an indie—mostly no-name cast, directed by Catherine Hardwicke, then best known for the ultra-low-budgetThirteen (2003).


    "When did you realize how big Twilight was going to be?" I ask.


    "The day the movie came out there was a picture of me—in the New York Post, I think. I was sitting on my front porch, smoking a pipe with my ex-boyfriend and dog. And I was like, Oh shit, well, I have to be aware of that."


    She admits she found the sudden fame hard to handle: "I hadn't carved out my spot, and people hadn't gotten used to me yet. It was really fucking hard. I didn't interview well. I was really nervous. People fucking didn't respond that well."


    In the past couple years, it's been back to the smaller-scale, more intimate projects Stewart was doing before and during the Twilight saga, with Snow White and the Huntsman as the notable exception. This souped-up, rock-'em-sock-'em retelling of the classic fairy tale enchanted audiences, if not critics, and helped make Stewart the richest of them all. (Forbes named her the highest-paid actress of 2012.)


    The movie also wreaked havoc with her personal life, when Peeping Tom cameras caught her getting lovey-dovey with married director Rupert Sanders. (Poor Robert Pattinson seems unable to shake the role of ingenue as far as his relationship with Stewart goes. As we all know, the tabloids having mowed down hundreds of acres of forest to let us know, the actors portraying Bella and Edward fell into each other's arms as rapturously as their characters did. After the scandal broke, Stewart issued an apology to Pattinson in People magazine, essentially casting him as the Wronged Woman in the love triangle.) The media was brutal to Stewart, absolutely without mercy. Suddenly there were headlines in credible newspapers that read VAMP TRAMP and TRAMPIRE. The public was, if anything, even less forgiving. T-shirts bearing slogans like KRISTEN STEWART FUCKING SUCKS were stretched across many a pre—and post—pubescent torso. After winning Best Kiss four years r
    unning at the MTV Movie Awards, Stewart and Pattinson weren't so much as nominated in 2013. She was reportedly dropped from the Snow White franchise because, duh, girls embroiled in love triangles can't play icons of purity. Jodie Foster passionately defended Stewart on The Daily Beast, promising her that "this too shall pass."


    Foster must've been gazing into her crystal ball. Stewart managed to hold it together, at least publicly, didn't break down or crack up, and at last the press got bored or lost interest—moved on, in any case. And she seems to have channeled whatever anger or upset she was feeling into her work. She has two movies coming out later this year, Peter Sattler's Camp X-Ray, about the bond that develops between a guard (Stewart) and a detainee (Payman Maadi) at Guantánamo, and Olivier Assayas' Clouds of Sils Maria, about an aging star (Juliette Binoche) and her devoted—too devoted, perhaps?—personal assistant (Stewart), both of which have been knocking them dead at festivals.


    I ask Stewart who she's dating these days. Are she and Pattinson secretly back together? Or is she seeing Nicholas Hoult, Hollywood's young hunk du jour? Or has close friend Alicia Cargile become more than that? (In just the past 48 hours I've read gossip items suggesting all three possibilities.) It's none of my beeswax, of course, except that asking none-of-my-beeswax questions is part of my job description. Stewart's polite about it—certainly more polite than I deserve—but lets me know that her private life is precisely that, a stance I find personally admirable if professionally frustrating. She is, however, willing to discuss in abstract terms how a private life is even possible for somebody like her: "I just have to be really conscious. It takes a little bit of the impulsive nature of life out of the equation, but I—"


    Stewart's interrupted by a text-message buzz. While she deals with it, I'm going to deal with the other big knock on her: that she has no dramatic range, is the same in every movie, a one-trick pony, basically. And though it's undeniable that the characters she embodies tend to resemble one another—intelligent but nonverbal, troubled, a little withdrawn—they're not identical. Stewart herself is aware of her limitations: "Some people try to do that thing where you craft a character. I cannot be anyone other than who I am. If I can't empathize with something [my character] does, it's a problem. And sometimes I've had directors be like, It's not you, Kristen, it's the character. And I'm like, That's the laziest thing you can possibly say to me. It is me. It's definitely me." My feeling is that Stewart's limitations are, in fact, her strengths. As a performer, she's deceptively simple, so natu
    ral is her style, so unforced. To play someone with a personality and consciousness totally unlike her own would be, in her mind, false. Says Jesse Eisenberg, "When we made Adventureland, [Kristen] would cut takes because she felt she was being inauthentic. She was 17!" Often what Stewart's doing appears plain and straight-ahead but is actually nuanced and complex, each of her roles a subtle variation on a common theme: herself. She's an American—Made in California, like the title of that famous Ed Ruscha piece—a West Coaster with a West Coaster's instinctive modesty and hatred of pretension and cool, courtly grace. If she can't make it look easy, she doesn't want to do it at all. Just because she makes it look easy, though, doesn't mean it is, and just because she doesn't put on the airs of an artiste doesn't mean she isn't one. You never see her acting, proof of how very good an actress she is.



    Stewart sends off her text, and we keep the conversation going for a few more minutes. Our plates have long since been cleared, though, and she's sipping at the dregs of her coffee, me of my tea. I signal for the check, and we head outside. I sense she wants to smoke but is reluctant to light up because we're walking next to each other and I'm visibly pregnant. Once we say our goodbyes, she reaches for her keys, and I return to the restaurant to ask the hostess to call me a cab. As I wait, I look out the window. There's Stewart, slouched against the hood of her mom's Mini Cooper, squinting into the sun, a cigarette dangling from her lips. After taking a final drag, she lets the flaming butt fall to the pavement and swings her body through the driver's-side door. She starts up the car and enters the heavy flow of traffic on Culver without a pause or hitch. The princess of shit-kicker cool.


    Kween Kristen TYFYT


    Source1, 2, 3, 4

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    Tove Lo isn’t just ready to take over pop; she’s ready to conquer the whole atmosphere. Her full-length Queen of the Clouds [out Sept. 30, iTunes link] flutters to new territory altogether with its unabashed lyrical honesty, lithe melodies, inventive instrumentation, and enigmatically engaging spirit. Simply put, it’s one of the most unique, unforgettable, and undeniable albums you’ll hear all year. This is the birth of the icon and Queen of the Clouds.

    In this exclusive interview with ARTISTdirect.com editor in chief Rick Florino, Tove Lo talks the album and so much more.

    Did you approach Queen of the Clouds with a defined vision?
    With the EP, Truth Serum, it was sort of accidental when I looked at the songs I wanted. I had written so much at the time. I looked at the songs I picked, and I was like, "Hey, this is the story of this relationship!" That was unplanned [Laughs]. For the album, I have it in the back of my head, but I don't write according to it. I write whatever I need to write about. Usually, I write way more than what's on the album. I have so many demos I pick from. I did know that I wanted it to be cohesive and have some storyline. I didn't expect it to be the pattern of all my relationships, but it's turned out that way. Queen of the Clouds is three chapters of how things usually go for me in a relationship.

    Is storytelling an important part of songwriting for you?
    Aside from my own life, I get a lot of inspiration, and it's like I have a movie rolling in my head when I write the lyrics. I want people to be able to see and feel that situation I was in or that they've been in. It's really important to me that comes through in the song.

    What else influences that?
    It's more generally life. I don't think I read more or watch more movies than the average person. I haven't watched a movie in a long time because I don't have any spare time whatsoever [Laughs]. I do like anything that brings new stories or situations into my life though—like if you're reading or watching something that's way outside scope of your life. It's a good inspiration to start writing. Then, usually, I bring it back to my own experiences. For example, I have a song called "Heroes" I did with Alesso. I randomly watched an episode of the series of Heroes. I was thinking of being a kid and wishing I had these powers when I would pretend. There's nothing extraordinary about me in that way, but you always wish you could have that. Something will set me off, and I'll start writing. Then, I'll circle back to my own experience.

    What's the story behind "Out of Mind"?
    That comes after I have the pain and I'm trying to get over this heartbreak. It's when you moved on and you're sort of okay, but you still have that little scar. It will always be there. Those thoughts about this other person will always haunt you a bit. In the video, I have these ghosts chasing me. When you go through something like that, it always sticks with you.

    What song from Queen of the Clouds resonates with you the most right now?
    It changes like every other day [Laughs]. For right now, it's "Talking Body" and "My Gun". We rehearsed "My Gun" for the first time last night, and it sounds awesome. I'm in a bit of a happy good place. Those are part of the first chapter—"The Sex". So maybe I'm feeling frisky at the moment [Laughs].

    What artists shaped you?
    When I was eleven- or twelve- and first started buying my own records, I was way more into grunge. I loved Nirvana, Hole, and Silverchair. They were my top three. Then, I started listening to Lykke Li and Robyn. They inspired me to write on my own. Also, I'd say Charlotte Gainsbourg. She's super cool. A lot of female writers who write and produced themselves inspired me.

    When did the title Queen of the Clouds come to you?
    I never decide the title until I've got all the songs. I was looking at it. It comes from the song "Not On Drugs". Ever since I released the EP in March, everything has happened so fast. All of a sudden, I'm traveling the world with my band and playing all of these shows. It's been pretty amazing. Besides feeling like I'm floating on top of the world, I'm trying to take a step back and look at everything like, "Okay, this is my world now" and take it all in. That's how I feel. I feel like Queen of the Clouds [Laughs]. I was proud of the title Truth Serum. I felt like it described what it was about. It was important for me that the album name did the same thing or it represented me.

    What connects the EP and the album?
    It's just me. They're all very personal songs for me. All of the love I've been through connects it [Laughs]. I'm open and raw about everything that's on my mind. The album shows more of the good stuff than the EP shows.

    If you were compare the album to a movie or a combination of movies, what would it be?
    I always want to say my favorite movie [Laughs]. I can't do that because it's not describing the album. I'd say something like (500) Days of Summer because it starts so amazing and beautiful, and then it ends in pain. My favorite movie is Pulp Fiction or anything by Quentin Tarantino. I don't know who I am in (500) Days of Summer. Maybe, I'm a combination of the guy who gets hurt and her leaving. I like that film.

    Perhaps, the album could be a combination of (500) Days of Summer and Kill Bill?
    Exactly!

    Check out some of Lo's singles:



    ONTD, do you like the album? What's your fave track?


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    Variety Studios present "The Imitation Game"

    Keira with a beautiful tan and a cute Chanel dress:







    "The Imitation Game" Press Conference




    Benedict on Keira: "She's a friend, and she's brilliant."


    wearing Dolce & Gabbana



    "The Imitation Game" Premiere


    wearing Chanel couture



    "Laggies" Photocall and Press Conference


    talking about uncomfortable shoes with Sam Rockwell


    wearing Stella McCartney



    "Laggies" Premiere

    Apparently it was VERY windy that day




    wearing custom Michael van der Ham



    Various Portraits at TIFF










    Interview at Studio Q



    Keira dropped by Studio Q and had a very interesting and quite lengthy interview with Jian Ghomeshi

    She talks about sexism in the industry in the business saying that, "I've been really lucky with the people that I've worked with. And I've been tremendously lucky with the types of characters that I've had to play but it's very clear that there are less roles for women than there are for men. Particularly you look at this film (The Imitation Game) and there are two women characters in this film, the rest of the film is male characters. You look at the number of female directors, writers, producers, there are very, very few. Financiers, there are very, very few. There's a lot of actresses. There's a lot of brilliant actresses, there aren't that many good roles for them. (...) Again, I'm very lucky but finding them is very hard. I get offered some great things but there's a lot of people. It's a very crowded pool and a lot of the scripts that are really great are coming to quite a number of us and you have to fight for it."



    princess keira thanks you for your time


    Sources: 1, 2, 3

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    One on of the head writers for "Orange is the New Black" has filed for divorce ... the logical step since she's now realized she's a lesbian and is dating one of the female stars.

    Lauren Morelli just filed divorce docs -- obtained by TMZ -- from her husband of 2 years, Steve Basilone. It's actually a joint petition ... probably because Steve realizes that ship has sailed.

    The story is amazing. Lauren began writing for OITNB 5 months after she got hitched. Lauren says as she started writing for the main character -- who had once been in a lesbian relationship -- she saw herself in the character. Lauren says she began to feel like a fraud ... married to a man but clearly gay.

    According to Lauren ... as she began writing about Piper's blossoming relationship with the very hot Alex ... "I found a mouthpiece for my own desires and a glimmer of what my future could look like."

    Enter Samira Wiley -- who plays Poussey. It's Lauren's new GF.


    According to divorce docs, it's all very amicable. She gets her Lexus, her apartment and her sapphire engagement ring. He gets the Mazda hatchback.

    Source

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    TIM TEBOW JOINS “GOOD MORNING AMERICA”
    AS CONTRIBUTOR
    FIRST APPEARANCE ON GMA IS MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 15th


    ESPN and SEC Network Analyst Tim Tebow is joining “Good Morning America” as a contributor beginning Monday, September 15th, ABC News announced today. The first-ever college sophomore to win the Heisman Trophy will help launch GMA’s “Motivate Me Monday” series, featuring individuals and their amazing stories of triumph.  Tebow will appear in studio and live on location in towns across America with a wide-range of reports that motivate and inspire.

    Emmy Award-winning “Good Morning America” is a two-hour, live program anchored by Robin Roberts, George Stephanopoulos, and Lara Spencer. Amy Robach is the news anchor and Ginger Zee is chief meteorologist. Tom Cibrowski is the senior executive producer. The morning news program airs MONDAY-FRIDAY (7:00-9:00 a.m., ET), on the ABC Television Network.

    Source


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    Hilary is set to release her new album later this year and she wrote a super cool song called "Night Like This" but it needs a male vocal, who is on Hilary's wishlist?




    Interviewer: 5 Words to describe "All About You"

    Hilary: I mean super fucking cool and awesome

    Interviewer: Any collaborations on the album?

    Hilary: Not yet. I wrote a really cool duet that I'd have to find somebody to do it with.

    Interviewer: So you're waiting for the right person, who's on your wishlist?

    Hilary: Secretly, Harry Styles, but he's kind of busy with that band called One Direction. They're kind of massive right now.

    Source

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    Michelle Williams stopped by Power 105's The Breakfast Club this week to help promote her new album Journey to Freedom. And as usual, Charlamagne Tha God left no question unturned. Williams also opened up about Beyonce and if she harbors jealousy over the pop star.

    Tenitra! That's your first name. Why didn't you use the name Tenitra?
    Michelle: Ya'll put me on the spot. I was told it was "too ethnic."

    Who told you to change your name?
    Michelle: We can talk about that off the air. Michelle is my middle name so it's still God given.

    Are you next to get pregnant? Beyonce had Blue, Kelly is getting pregnant now. You about to get your club shot up?
    Michelle: I don't know if I make good mom. I'm selfish. It's 18 year of nurturing somebody.

    Have you ever been jealous of Beyonce or Kelly?
    Michelle: I wouldn't say jealous. What is for me is definitely for me. I can say I've never been jealous because I don't think I've had the same pressure. Kelly grew up and is a founding member of Destiny's Child. I think people have had that same expectation. I think they can always tell you I've always been comfortable in my lane. I'm happy with where I'm going. I'm happy about having longevity.

    How about management? Do you still keep in contact with Matthew Knowles?
    Michelle: He sent me a message telling me happy birthday, so yes.



    source: DesignnTrend

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    She loved the old photo. It features two smiling newlyweds, he in a white bow tie, she clutching a bouquet of yellow roses. In the company of a few formally attired friends, they’re outside in winter, backdropped by a snow-covered slope.

    Until Friday night, Elizabeth Stringer Keefe didn’t know who any of the people in the photo were. She had become its caretaker a few weeks after 9/11, while visiting a friend who was living in Manhattan. She had been trying to identify those beaming faces ever since.

    Every year Keefe, an assistant professor at Lesley University, shared the bent, nicked snapshot on social media, hoping someone could make a connection. Each anniversary, a handful of people commented on the photo on Facebook, and a few more shared it on Twitter.




    But on Thursday night, Keefe’s humble project suddenly went viral. By Friday afternoon, more than 40,000 people had retweeted the photo, many of them offering help in identifying the people in the wedding party. And Friday night, she finally found out who they are. Happily, none were victims of the 9/11 attacks as she had feared.

    A Colorado resident named Fred Mahe stumbled across Keefe’s plea online and contacted her. He’s in the photo, which had been in his desk The man she located was the photo's owner, Fred Mahe, who had it on his desk, on the 77th floor of 2 World Trade Center, when the building collapsed. He hadn’t been in the office on 9/11.



    “It was an overwhelming conversation,” Keefe said late Friday night. The wedding took place in Aspen, Mahe told her. Some of the participants have been friends since childhood. The bride and groom now live in California.

    The photo can now be returned, a small sign of hope from a very bleak day.

    “Every year I go dig it out,” she said on the phone Friday. “I’ve been posting it for years, and it’s literally never gone anywhere.”

    On a trip to New York just weeks after the World Trade Center towers collapsed, Keefe’s friend handed her a photo she’d found soon after the attacks on the street in the vicinity of ground zero. The friend was moving to California. “Please do something meaningful with it,” she said.

    Keefe always stressed that she had no proof the photo belonged to a 9/11 victim.

    “I’ve never dismissed the idea that it could just be a photo that was in a neighboring building that had its windows blown out,” she said. “I’ve tried over the years to resist putting a story to it.”

    But the photo has a story, a different one than the one she had imagined.

    “Either way, it’s a beautiful photo. It’s such a stark contrast to what I saw [at ground zero]. I felt it was worth the effort, if it could ever bring some joy to someone.”

    Each year on Sept. 11, she wakes up and wonders how people can go about their daily lives on the anniversary of such a horrible event.

    “It just feels so heavy to me,” says Keefe. “It’s stayed alive for me through this project, for lack of a better word.”

    She had been sharing the photo on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram since she joined each social networking service. In 2011, to mark the 10th anniversary of the attacks, she tried posting it on the 11th of every month. Other than a handful of general responses about the kindness of the gesture — nothing.

    “It just didn’t catch on,” she recalled. “I was a little more persistent this year, for whatever reason.”

    As her computer began humming with activity around bedtime on Thursday, she found herself unable to sleep.

    In her area of specialization — she’s in a doctoral program for education at Boston College — Keefe is studying ways that technology can aid people on the autism spectrum. She is as media savvy as her husband is not.

    “When I went into the bedroom, he was like, ‘What is going on?’ ” she said with a laugh. In the morning, her young children wanted to know why Mommy’s phone was buzzing off the table.

    Now that she has found the people in the photo, she will take it out of her copy of “A Moveable Feast,” by a favorite writer, Ernest Hemingway, where she had kept it near a line in the book that reminded her of 9/11: “When the cold rains kept on and killed the spring, it was as though a young person had died for no reason.”

    For Keefe, at least, now the anniversary might now feel a little less heavy.

    source

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    "Rabbits" by David Lynch

    A Lynchian renaissance is happening at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts, where David Lynch studied painting before his surreal entry into filmmaking with 1977’s Eraserhead. The school is the site of Lynch’s first major museum exhibition in the United States. It was there that he created several short films to animate his artworks, planting the early seeds for Eraserhead — starring Jack Nance as a young father crippled by the anxiety of fatherhood. A mutant baby, industrial cityscape, and shadowy apartment building leave an indelible mark on the viewer. Criterion is re-releasing Eraserhead on Blu-ray September 16. In honor of Lynch and his surreal universe, we’re celebrating 50 other weird works on film — many that rival Lynch’s strange aesthetic.




    Hausu
    Michael Atkinson on Nobuhiko Ôbayashi’s 1977 film about a house that eats young girls:
    It may be impossible not to be stunned into dumbness by Nobuhiko Obayashi’s Hausu (House), an incredibly 1987 Japanese horror lark that was actually made in 1977. An uncanny prophecy of Sam Raimi’s Evil Dead 2 a decade later, this exhumed freaker conjoins New Agey schoolgirl farce and the cheesiest then-there-were-none haunted-house dynamic imaginable, while the painted backdrop skies suggest Teletubbies and the special effects run from solarized-video-absurd to cardboard-hilarious. The rum-stumble cast and crew obey no rules—the movie often seems to have two or three conflicting scores running simultaneously, and inappropriate freeze frames and pointless fades to black are the norm. The story isn’t a story at all: A gaggle of sailor-uniformed schoolgirls (with names like Gorgeous, Prof, and Fantasy) head to a weird aunt’s cheap-set house for spring break, and start getting minced up, one by one, into crude superimpositions, perambulating body parts, and rivers of blood that look like cherry Hi-C.



    On the Silver Globe
    “Plays like Tarkovsky’s Stalker by way of a Jodorowsky acid-trip spectacle,” said BAMcinématek of Andrzej Zulawski’s Jerzy Żuławski adaptation. From Cinefamily on the Possession director’s cosmic allegory:
    A three-hour spaceman journey straight into the center of Andrzej Zulawski’s poetic heart, On The Silver Globe is the director’s most phantasmagorical film. In 1976, Zulawski embarked on the largest-scale film production in Polish history, and over the course of two intense years, executed an eye-popping, grandiloquent sci-fi epic concerning astronauts who crash-land on the moon and kickstart their own bizarre, primitive society. Sadly, the Polish government deemed the film subversive, shut the production down just before shooting was completed, and destroyed its film print materials, sets and impossibly lush costumes. Ten years later, using secreted footage, Zulawski was able to piece together a version of the film that came as close as possible to his original vision—and the results will defy your mind, as even in its reconstituted form, On The Silver Globe is a true brainquake that effortlessly takes you to dizzying heights, and just keeps on elevating.



    Rubber
    Quentin Dupieux, aka French electronic musician Mr. Oizo, made a movie about a sentient tire with telepathic abilities and murderous intent.



    Cat Soup
    Inspired by cat-obsessed manga artist Nekojiru (which translates to “cat soup”), who took her own life in 1998, Tatsuo Satō’s psychedelic anime finds one feline sibling in search of his sister’s soul. “Nekojiru could have become a model for young, independent female artists looking to take manga outside of the relationship and light humor genres,” writes Thom Bailey. Satō’s mythological story is filled with surprising emotional gravitas.



    Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives
    The first Thai film to win the prestigious Palme d’Or, Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives centers on the last days of its titular character. “Questions of the unknown seems to be at the heart of this film, especially the search for greater truth. Appropriately cryptic, fears and desires transform into a hyper-emotion,” Sound on Sight observed. “The excitement of discovery as well as the fear of an end blend into one. As Boonmee recalls past lives (and maybe even future ones), his identity becomes somehow more certain. We are not necessarily more privy to his mortal experience, but as his fragmented existence comes together he becomes more serene, and the audience does as well.”


    rest at the source
    talk weird movies, ontd

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    LC is married! Lauren Conrad and William Tell have officially tied the knot, her rep exclusively confirms to Us Weekly. The pair said "I do" in an intimate ceremony in front of close friends and family along the coast of California on Saturday, Sept. 13.

    "What a perfect way to start our lives together; surrounded by the people we love most," the happy couple tell Us in a statement.
    Conrad, 28, and Tell, 34, met on Valentine's Day during a blind date set up by mutual friends in 2012."My family loves him, so they love when we come to visit," Conrad told Us at Downy's Pop-Up Laundromat event in NYC that June. "We spend a lot of weekends there hanging out by the pool and doing nothing."

    Wedding planning, however, would soon fill up Conrad's downtime. The former Laguna Beach and The Hills star announced in October 2013 that Tell popped the question -- also showing off her new round cut diamond engagement ring. "I am very excited to share with you guys that William and I got engaged over the weekend," she gushed. "I am beyond thrilled!"

    More at the source, but it's pretty much just a recap of their relationship


    [1][2]

    No pictures or real details yet, unfortunately, but hopefully we get some documentation soon of her pinterest wedding! Post your fav Hills/LB gifs in honor of LC's big day :)

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    Source

    I'll update the post when a HQ promo is posted.

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    African-American actress Danièle Watts claims she was "handcuffed and detained" by police officers from the Studio City Police Department in Los Angeles on Thursday after allegedly being mistaken for a prostitute.

    According to accounts by Watts and her husband Brian James Lucas, two police officers mistook the couple for a prostitute and client when they were seen showing affection in public. Watts refused to show her ID to the cops when questioned and was subsequently handcuffed and placed in the back of their car while police attempted to ascertain her identity. The two officers released Watts shortly afterwards.



    Watts, who played CoCo in Quentin Tarantino's Django Unchained and currently stars in Martin Lawrence vehicle Partners, posted an account of the incident on her Facebook page:



    "Today I was handcuffed and detained by 2 police officers from the Studio City Police Department after refusing to agree that I had done something wrong by showing affection, fully clothed, in a public place.

    When the officer arrived, I was standing on the sidewalk by a tree. I was talking to my father on my cell phone. I knew that I had done nothing wrong, that I wasn’t harming anyone, so I walked away.

    A few minutes later, I was still talking to my dad when 2 different police officers accosted me and forced me into handcuffs.

    As I was sitting in the back of the police car, I remembered the countless times my father came home frustrated or humiliated by the cops when he had done nothing wrong. I felt his shame, his anger, and my own feelings of frustration for existing in a world where I have allowed myself to believe that “authority figures” could control my BEING… my ability to BE!!!!!!!

    I was sitting in that back of this cop car, filled with adrenaline, my wrist bleeding in pain, and it occurred to me, that even there, I STILL HAD POWER OVER MY OWN SPIRIT.

    Those cops could not stop me from expressing myself. They could not stop the cathartic tears and rage from flowing out of me. They could not force me to feel bad about myself. Yes, they had control over my physical body, but not my emotions. My feelings. My spirit was, and still is FREE.

    I will continue to look any “authority figure” in the eye without fear. NO POLICE OFFICER OR GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL IS MORE POWERFUL THAN ME. WE ARE EQUALS. I KNOW THAT I WILL ALWAYS BE FREE BECAUSE THAT IS THE NATURE OF MY SPIRIT.

    And moreover, I deeply enjoyed connecting with the cops who detained me. I allowed myself to be honest about my anger, frustration, and rage as tears flowed from my eyes. The tears I cry for a country that calls itself "the land of the free and the home of the brave" and yet detains people for claiming that very right.

    Today I exist with courage, knowing that I am blessed to have experienced what I did today. All of those feelings, no matter how uncomfortable. These feelings are what builds my internal strength, my ability to grow through WHATEVER may happen to me.

    That internal knowing is what guides me in this world. Not the law, not fear, not mistrust of government or cops or anything else.

    In this moment there is a still small voice whispering to me. It says: You are love. You are free. You are pure."

    Watt's husband Brian Lucas, who is white, claimed that the two were targeted by police for being an interracial couple. In a seperate post on his Facebook page, Lucas said that "from the questions that [police] asked me as D was already on her phone with her dad, I could tell that whoever called on us (including the officers), saw a tatted RAWKer white boy and a hot bootie shorted black girl and thought we were a HO (prostitute) & a TRICK (client)."

    Another photo from the incident:



    An Los Angeles PD public information officer told Variety that "there was no record of the incident as Watts wasn’t arrested or brought into the station for questioning."

    Here's all Watts has had to say since:




    Source2

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    Sources:12
    Episode thoughts? Also, please save me from finding Lucy and Thack adorable. SAVE. ME.

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    Undefeated boxer Floyd Mayweather will put his record on the line Saturday night against Marcos Maidana, who nearly defeated Mayweather four months ago.

    The emergence of the Ray Rice video and his subsequent suspension from the NFL has put Mayweather’s history of domestic violence issues back in the spotlight. Mayweather was sentenced to 90 days in jail in 2011 after pleading guilty to a domestic battery charge.

    Mayweather was released after serving two of the three months in 2012, and has since been the highest-paid athlete in the world.

    Mayweather defended Rice this week, saying “I think there’s a lot worse things that go on in other people’s households,” and later apologized for his comments.

    In an interview with CNN, Rachel Nichols asked Mayweather on the issue, and Mayweather did his best to dance around the questions.



    “Everybody’s entitled to their own opinion, you know? When it’s all said and done, only God can judge me.”





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    Source #3

    Beautiful evisceration.

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