Cher's pissed, but some of her new song "Woman's World" has leaked. From this sample, it reminds me of a much more aggressive "Strong Enough" and I'm hearing a little bit of "Missionary Man" by Eurythmics. Sounds good!
47 posts categorized "CHER"
A new software has been developed to expose how many of a Twitter account's followers are real people and how many are basically shells and spambots. A prominent UK politician was shown to have 40,000 fakes, but that's peanuts—only 29% of Lady Gaga's overwhelming 28-29 million followers are real. (Still, that would mean she has over 8 million real followers, more than most.)
I'd love to test this out on an old rival of mine from my former days as a teen editor, and I'd love to hear what percent of other major accounts (Justin Bieber, etc.) are valid. Then, once we get the kinks worked out, we need to get Madonna on Twitter. Cher is a hard act to follow in that medium, but still!
"No on has ever asked to see my birth certificate. They know that this is the place that we were born and raised."
Hard to overlook the racial and cultural overtones, painting Barack Obama as a foreigner, an other. If Mitt Romney deserves to lose for no other reason, he deserves to lose for his blatant flirtation with birtherism.
Why is it considered so unfair to go after Mitt Romney for the rather strange beliefs involved in Mormonism, and why is Mitt so pissy over being asked about his taxes, but it's okay to continually (his son's done it, his favorite entertainer Donald Trump's made a cottage industry of it) hint that President Obama is a liar who was born in another country?
Cher had the temerity to ask "wtf is MDNA?" and starting catching hell from Madonna loyalists, but she seemed to pull out of it by clarifying that she didn't get the reference. She wouldn't cop to "liking" Madonna, but says: "Didnt mean throw shade on Madge! she'sBest at a what She Does!" and refers to her as a genius. She apparently plans to straight this out with Madonna because they're "cool". I like when divas are cool.
Sharon Needles knocks 'em dead!
Monday was the live finale for RuPaul's Drag Race, with a special live event at XL in NYC (a fun place I recommend) that included one-on-one interviews with most of the queens.
Got there on time just as they were running out of VIP wristbands, which all of the press had been promised. I didn't get mine, but it wound up not mattering—everyone there received VIP treatment.
First up were the interviews. After keeping journalists shooed away from some velvet curtains, the PRs finally opened wide and let us descend on the queens, who were seated at various stations in the club area.
I made a beeline for Willam, one of the most interesting and controversial characters from this season. Willam was barely dressed and could barely suppress her self-satisfaction at having managed to be kicked off in a way that raised awareness of herself and set her free for a big gig happening two days later.
Best answer came when I asked what she looks for in a man besides a big dick: "Big balls." (Her 6'6" husband has the biggest dick she's ever seen on a white guy.)
Killed a lot of time in line for Chad Michaels, who wound up having the longest line of the night, partly because of her popularity and partly because she has the gift of gab. In line, I met up with an adorable intern for Out (can't fire an intern!) named Evan who I would later tutor on all things editorial and pop cultural. I'm old, see, so I know stuff.
We had to peel off to get shots of all the queens in front of the step-and-repeat before I finally got Chad, who I loved.
Sadly, a LOGO crew cut in-between me and Evan, so he had to wait a bit longer.
I then went for Latrice Royale, who had a fabulous Della Reese vibe. She was extremely warm and gracious, but also didn't hesitate to express at least some discomfort with Sharon Needles's recent racist Facebook post, the one question I asked everyone that got the widest variety of responses.
I heard a rumor that Latrice might have propositioned one of the journalists!
Sharon had a rather simple look—a pink-haired witch in black-and-white stripes—and seemed a bit exhausted, but was nice for someone who probably drinks human blood. She was fine talking about her racism scandal, if not exactly contrite. I think she thinks of herself as a shock jock and doesn't identify as a racist, so feels she can say whatever she likes and people shouldn't be so sensitive. I think the anti-PC thing only goes so far.
But still, it was clear to me that she was the one to beat this season—and I'm glad no one did that.
Phi Phi O'Hara, my least favorite from the show, must have some redeeming qualities; one of her pals was this sweet queen with a wild '40s hat and lipstick that had even the hardcore drag queens asking, "What the fuck is that?" But Phi Phi was polite if clearly over the interview thang.
I liked her look for the Q&As more than her later performance looks—she had this fantastic spiked dress that should have made it hard to sit. She also surprised me when I asked what she looks for in a guy: "First, he has to be a bottom."
Last Saturday, I had a lot of fun covering the red carpet of the 23rd GLAAD Media Awards. Didn't I just do that? Yes, but that was the New York edition; as I was in L.A., I covered the West Coast gathering. See, GLAAD ain't dumb—they have two to make it so no celebrity can say, "Oh, I'm on the wrong coast! I can't go!"
I hired my sweet pal Brad as my videographer and met him at the Westin Bonaventure just in time to check in and take our places. I kind of hate how the carpet was set up—the guests were allowed to congregate behind us to stargaze, which was distracting. But it was nothing compared to the women two spots down from me whose entire goal was to flash a huge "FREE GAY HUGS!" sign and video themselves receiving said hugs from roughly two-thirds of the celebrities who walked. (And I thought I was lame with my aggressive pic-with requests!) They were so damn loud! Luckily, they didn't ruin any of my interviews, but only by sheer luck.
Brad's mic needed batteries (he's blond; sorry, Brad) so I wound up videoing my own first chat, with Jennifer Tyrrell. She's the lesbian mom recently booted as a den mother by the virulently homophobic Boy Scouts of America. Smart woman and immediately likable. Unreal that they're getting away with that crap. I was a cub scout (I bailed on Webelos mainly because...what the fuck is a Webelo???) and fondly remember my Pinewood Derby racing days as well as the hillbilly band we assembled for a talent night. Not to mention the father/son cook-off, in which my father and I had a well-appreciated coconut cream pie. But still, fuck the Scouts.
My first stars were Angela Featherstone (STUH-nning, but my campadre confessed she had been an ice queen on a recent shoot) and Michelle Paradise of Exes & Ohs. No Megan Cavanagh, but they were delightful.
Next, I snagged Grant Gustin of Glee. I don't really follow the show, but no one that cute is getting past me without a third degree. He's adorable and quite articulate, even if he refers to gay people as "homosexuals," which totally didn't offend me because he was totally doing it to sound smart, not homophobic. I had a homosexual crush on various parts of him.
Max Adler from the same show was equally adorable and charming. He's passionate about his role, even though it came as a total shocker that his bullying character would be written as a late-blooming man-lover.
Today was the day when fans could spend $164.40 on a Truth or Dare fragrance at Macy's Herald Square and, presuming they were among the first 200 to do so, earn access to an exclusive Q&A event with Madonna tomorrow evening at the same location.
The last Macy's event had taught me a few things. First, it taught me not to take for granted that every employee would know exactly what was going on. More reassuringly, it taught me that events like this—with little more than some print ads to announce it—do not draw fans by the thousands. (Last time, the event was for the first 350 people to spend $75 on Material Girl items and I had no problem strolling into the store an hour after it opened and securing my position.)
Still, if you care, you worry. So I wondered if people might camp out.
How many of you are going to want this??? This and other bargains come up daily at Fab.com, the impressive flash sales site run by Bradford Shellhammer and his partner Jason Goldberg. (If you decide to join, feel free to use this invite link—full disclosure being that I get credit for roping you in.)