It’s just now surfacing that on August 9th, a burglar snuck into Kirsten Dunst’s hotel room at the Soho Grand in Manhattan and stole a whole bunch of shit….

like her iPod, $2,500 in cash, digital cameras, a cell phone, ID’s and a $13,000 handbag which has yet to be returned.

DAMN!

It totally sucks to get robbed – my house was robbed when I was in middle school and it was a very creepy and violating feeling – but, in some f*cked up way, it’s kinda like…HA HA!

Since when do I have to feel bad for a rich actress (who, from my understanding, sucks anyway – it’s no secret she’s extremely un-liked by the press, the media and the moviegoers ) who got her expensive crap stolen?

Is that karma or just bad luck? Guess no one will know but “Kiki” herself…

(cough, cough) karma (cough, cough)

Hey, at least her Oscar wasn’t stolen. Oh wait, she doesn’t have one.

It’s time for Hollywood to take out the trash.

You know what I’m talking about– Lindsay, Paris, Britney, Nicole, Nicole’s unborn baby, Nicole’s ugly boyfriend, and dare I say…Christina Aguilera. Always rubbed me the wrong way, that one.

H-town is seeming more and more like a ghost town these days with its little coke-infused starlets escaping the summer grit of the city for rehab.

Rehab: it’s the new Hamptons!

But, who is there to look to now? Who will inform us, mere plebes, of fashion trends we cannot afford and only imitate feebly by shopping at Forever 21? Who will entertain us while we slave away at our precariously filing – centric summertime internships? Have we no heroes anymore? No inspiration?

I try to think of understudies for Lilo & Co, but the best I can do is a list of the boring and banal: Anne Hathaway, Natalie Portman, Jessica Biel, Scarlett Johansson. Ugh. Stars– they really are just like us. Meaning? Boring. Read More »

Forget Shia LeBeouf.

The buzz tides are turning toward SNL hottie Andy Samberg. A smooth – talking Don Juan or babyfaced teen star he’s not, but Samberg’s got the goods.

Why? Because he’s funny!

And while my heart used to beat exclusively for Jimmy Fallon, I’m in the process of becoming a complete Sambergphile. Besides being hilarious, he’s also cute in a completely awkward way that makes you think he never gets with girls (although that is sadly untrue).

In short, he seems normal even when he’s quite the comic genius. He broke out with The Lonely Island, a collection of comic shorts that he and two friends wrote, starred, and produced in. You can see them all on YouTube. Read More »

Being Irish-Italian carries with it a few unfortunates. I’ve got a temper that can flair up out of nowhere and an unearthly hunger for all things bread. I’m also pale. Redheaded and pale. Pale.

Because of my unsightly whiteness, I find most self-tanners look completely ridiculous on me. I don’t just turn Lindsay Lohan orange, I turn Tropicana orange.

Until this summer, I had resigned myself to carrying the semi-albino torch forever, scoping on the SPF 45 and radiating whiteness like Kiki Dunst on a ski hill. But this May, I stumbled across a product that didn’t just make good on its promise: it came through with flying colors of tan.

Jergens Natural Glow Firming Daily Moisturizer may have a long name, but that’s because it does more than your average body moisturizer. Not only does this product “firm” that cellulite, it also gives an all over summer glow that actually looks real. And unlike those other self-tanners, it doesn’t smell like musty, wet dirt. Read More »

Breaking up sucks, so you might as well get a good story out of it. None of this civil shit — I want tears in the eyes, blood on the walls, buttons off the shirts.

Unfortunately, most of my breakups have been rather tame. I keep my grudges to myself. Depending on the magnitude of the schism, I cope by going the patented Jennifer Aniston route (yoga, weed, Smart Water) or taking a ride on the pie highway to drown my sorrows. Either way, slander and slaughter are kept to a minimum; the only victim is me.

So, I don’t really understand crazy, dramatic breakups, but that doesn’t mean I can’t revel in them (read: laugh at) when they happen, especially in Brad-and-Jen Land. There are the sad ones, like Reese and Ryan and Jake and Kirsten which leave you a little deflated but ultimately make you feel better about yourself — because if they can’t make it work, who can? Read More »

It seems that you can’t make your way through Hollywood without tripping over a Coppola. Though their names are generally disguised , and it is often hard to see the resemblance. The more Francis Ford relatives are spawned, the more careers seem to be thriving. Nicholas Cage boldly dropped his prestigious last name in anticipation of an independent persona, Jason Schwartzman is a Coppola cousin, also related to actress Talia Shire, and actor/director Roman.

But we mustn’t forget the prodigal daughter Sofia. You must forgive my bias opinion when discussing the topic of this Oscar winning writer/director. Visually, I find her films stunning, yet there is a drawback to creating a series of pretty pictures; when they begin to move they just don’t make sense.

Of course, deriving from one of the greatest filmmakers in recent history provides every technical advantage you could imagine, as well as more immediate funding for films that would otherwise be tossed aside. With such a shortage of truly gifted female directors, I find her hipster acclaimed montages scored by post punk and emo ballads to be sort of pointless all together.

Yes, my distaste for Lost In Translation has stirred quite a few vicious arguments among self proclaimed film buffs. But in all honesty, watching Scarlett Johansson and Bill Murray discuss a shirt for twenty five minutes in a series of long drawn out shots and very little dialogue made me, by the end of the movie, consider the outcome of the Virgin Suicides as a viable option. Read More »

I don’t normally look to Hollywood when I’m trying to decide what to wear. My style is more of a hippie-chick-meets-New-York, while the fashion sense in Tinseltown is mostly…expensive and ugly.

Don’t get me wrong, every once in a while I’d love to wear a dress like this, but most of the time, I can’t understand why anyone would want to set eyes on half the stuff celebrities cover themselves with, let alone pay hundreds of dollars for it. And yet, ugly as some of the fads are, they become popular at lightening speed, everyone clamoring for Kirsten Dunst’s ugly stretch pants or Avril Lavigne’s tired (oh so very tired) faux-punk look.

Which is why it should come as no surprise that a new clothing trend is simultaneously taking control of Hollywood while pissing me off immensely.

The Sheet Top Epidemic has always been around, but what was once a small miscalculation between bra color and outside light is now turning into an obvious ploy for attention. Everyone from Christina Aguilera to cute Kate Hudson has been photographed making a calculated sheer mistake. (Oh, Britney Spears has also been photographed doing it, but I mean…it hardly seems strange on her.)

Transparent clothing is tacky and cheap. There’s no arguing about it. Wearing a translucent shirt is just asking people to stare, begging for onlookers to ogle your boobs. What’s so stylish about a white bra under a black shirt anyway? To me, that combination signifies a mistake—something I’d be horrified to discover on my body.

What do you think of this see-through style?

I can’t help but notice that Kirsten Dunst is not on our good side lately. By “our” I mean the tabloids, the gossip hounds, the audiences, the critics, and basically everyone on the planet in general.

When I was growing up, Kirsten Dunst was the envy of every little girl, because she got to kiss Brad Pitt in Interview with the Vampire. Then, we all hated her because apparently she commented on not liking the kiss. But she was like, ten, and he was like, thirty, so I guess in a way, it’s good that she didn’t like it and described it as “yuck.” But then again, it’s Brad Pitt. Who wouldn’t like kissing Brad Pitt? I would! But, whatever.

THEN, Kirsten fell off the big screen for a while. No big deal. We got over it, but in the back of our minds we were like, “Hey, where did that creepy girl who kissed Brad Pitt go?” She did some random movies here and there, including a made-for-TV-movie, Fifteen and Pregnant, which now I really want to rent. That’s gotta be a winner.

But when she came back for Bring It On in 2000, she was totally popular and cute and accepted – the next big thing! That movie was likened to Clueless, and she was likened to Cher Horowitz. Although in my opinion, Clueless and Cher Horowitz can never be replaced, as it’s the true classic girl flick. Read More »

Celebs and college students actually have A LOT in common. We sleep late, stay out late, sometimes don’t wear underwear and are interested in being photographed while fashionably eating fast-food. Discussion of pot smoking, though, has always been somewhat taboo on either side. Celebrities don’t want to tarnish their images in being revealed as stoners, and college students don’t want to admit that they spend scholarship money on being a stoner.

However, crusaders like Kirsten Dunst aim to break the silence by starting a public, weed-centered dialogue. Yesterday, the star readily admitted to smoking pot, inhaling it and liking it (she’s no George W.)! She cited genius and apparent pothead Carl Sagan as her gateway into the gateway drug.

Pictures of other stars like Mischa, Paris and Drew Barrymore (shocker!) smoking joints have infiltrated the gossip rags. So are these celebs taking a cue from the virile pot habits of college students, or should we start photographing our own pot odysseys for public consumption?

In any case, the college life is probably as close to the star life as we’re ever gonna get, so light up and hallucinate the paparazzi all you want.