There are a lot of weird couples in this world. In high school I sat behind the tuba player from band who would vigorously massage his large clarinetist girlfriend on the finger tips while she ate a cheddar cheese sandwich with her free hand. It got her so worked up, she’d excuse herself from class to go to the bathroom, always with mustard stains on her face. I’m just saying, that happened, and they were weird. Tim Burton and Helena Bonham Carter are even stranger. They are straight out of Scissorhands with the whack job hair and dress and crazy weirdly built two homes smooshed together. Like all crazy people, they also like some normal things too. For instance, Tim Burton likes kissing blond women in alley ways. Helena Bonham Carter likes denying it happened then not changing her clothes for several days to show everyone how life is normal. Sometimes I wish everyone could just be honest with their feelings. Just not around me though. I can’t abide any emotion not in the category of quiet disdain.
Last night was The 85th Annual Academy Awards and I’m completely ashamed to say I watched the entire thing. To sum it up, Seth MacFarlane did surprisingly not shitty, Jennifer Lawrence fell down, the Best Director winner was bullshit, Ben Affleck got snubbed, then didn’t and George Clooney kept getting free scotch thrown at him for smiling every time someone joked he banged and/or will bang somebody like nine-year-old Quvenzhané Wallis (Actual Seth MacFarlane joke.) who already had to deal with Daniel Day Lewis demanding she thank him backstage. This shouldn’t fuck a kid up.
(Images of celebs who showed up to last night’s Oscars with varying degrees of cleavage or dumb-looking faces = Getty)
It’s been a few months since we got to see Helena Bonham Carter act opposite Johnny Depp in a funny outfit, so here’s the first trailer for ‘The Lone Ranger: A History of Trains in America and Their Impact on the Old West’ (HD here).
As Depp reminds us (while speaking traditional Hollywood Movie Indian language. Which is just english but where the cadence stabs every word and makes him sound mildly retarded), “There come a time, kemosabe. When. Good. Man. Must. Wear. Mask.” There’s also a time to wear a zydeco washboard and bird for a hat, and that time is “always”.
Helena Bonham Carter put on her least dirty purple socks and orthopedic shoes to swing by a school in London this afternoon and pick up her son Billy. His dad is Tim Burton, and he has velcro shoes and pants that are three inches too short, so I’m sure he isn’t some weird loner and is actually the most popular kid in class. Especially with the school bullies, who consider him a dream come true.
Helena Bonham Carter, my beloved Marla Singer, who used to look like this and even now can look like this when she tries, ran some errands around North London today, and seriously what in the hell.
She looks like someone who would throw a handful of pee in your eyes while yelling some insane gibberish. If that thing tried to kiss me, I’d pull my head down like a turtle until it completely sunk into my chest. I don’t know how but I would figure it out.