How Valerie Bert-N-Ernie Got Her Groove Back

Jenny Craig does a body good...finally.

In "Defiant Acts of Revenge" news, girthy woman Valerie Bertinelli got all hot and stuff and became the cover for next week's People magazine.

Several things of note: some key things happened last week, including the AIG bonuses and Natasha Richardson's death, which got a toilet paper corner-sized part of the cover. Yet People magazine thinks this woman's weight loss and first time in a bikini in 30 years makes the whole cover?! No offense to Ms. Bertinelli, who I think was greatly Photoshopped and air brushed on the cover, but sh*t like this deserves at most two pages on pages 34 and 35 and just a small part of the cover that says something like, "Like Your Bertinelli Nonfat? Look Inside." And believe me, I know how People works. The freakin' crossword inside is hella cakewalk.

Nonetheless, not bad for a lady who will turn 49 soon. Remember how I have, let's call it, a fetish for TV actresses? I think Ms. Bertinelli just made my list. If you play your cards right, Val, you might crack the top 50 leap-frogging Angela Lansbury and Betty White. Heh? Heh? (**eye brows going up and down repeatedly, with shit-eating grin**)

Who Wants to Do What to Your Car?!

Shake dem dreads! Shake dem dreads! Shake dem dreads! Shake dem dreads!

How they get this stuff on the internet is another mystery of life. Although they called it YouTube, they should just rename it "You Can Play Out the Rap Video Fantasy in Your Head"...Tube.

The Scrayper Boyz, the rap group behind this masterpiece "They Wanna F*ck My Car," are comprised of QJ, J-Will, Yung Tay, and The Prince, who is not to be confused with Jehovah's Witness/androgynous pop star/all-out beast on the b-ball court Prince. There's no concept to this video except naming their whips after refreshment drinks and doing exactly word-for-word what E-40 says on his own hit single "Tell Me When to Go."

Black people, you may begin disowning your own kind starting with this rag tag group.

Cooter Scooter: The "Black People Doing/Saying Funny Stuff" Edition

Actually, he's not funny. He's plain sad.

As part of a requirement to my Racial Sensitivity class at The Learning Annex (**rolls eyes**), I have to make this token post (Heh. Token.) about great achievements by African-Americans. Unfortunately, I couldn't think of anything (honestly, I drew a blank. I could cop out and say Harriet Tubman and Underground Railroad). So I thought I'd give you these special tidbits.

To stoke the flames of my "Tracy Morgan" craziness, I give you TM's "Scared Straight" sketch from SNL:

Katt Williams and I have a lot in common: we're both short, have nicely primmed hair, and, boy, do we have a penchant for the n-word. Here's his stance on weed from his Pimp Chronicles:

And, finally, the real reason I made this post. Coming to America has to be mine and yours favorite Eddie Murphy film with Meet Dave and Norbit in a close second and third. I bring you Eddie's greatest yet shortest character performance from Coming to America, Mr. Randy Watson!:

Sexual Chocolate!

I Just J*zzed in My Pants (The "Where the Wild Things Are" Trailer)

My childhood personafied on celluloid.

Wait for it. Not yet. Steady...Go!

Holy muthaf*ckin' sh*t, muthaf*cka! So I'm so totally geeking out right now with great vibrance and vitality. I mean, I don't get this rawled up easily over movie trailers, but when a greatly anticipated adaptation to a book you adored and cherished in your childhood has a trailer (when will Harold and the Purple Crayon directed by Michael Bay come out?), then you have all the right to geek the f' out.

You guys don't even know how much I love "Where the Wild Things Are." To have someone like Spike Jonez direct it is an instant hard on (ok, dude, you can tone down the "geeking-out"). And if that weren't enough, my favorite Arcade Fire song is playing throughout the trailer (I think I wet my pants.)

Ok, ok. To the trailer you go (FilmDrunk):

An Early Grave Between Two Buns

A "culinary abortion"...of your life!

I'll admit to eating my weight in chimichungas. I'll admit to the mindset that an all-you-can-eat dinner is more of an endurance challenge than a meal. I'll even admit to making the greatest omelet ever, dropping it accidentally, and then eating it off the floor.

But will I willingly let a $20, 4,800-calorie beast of a burger be the death of me? Apparently, a Grand Rapids minor league baseball club wants its to be death of its fans.

The 4-pound burger features five beef patties, five slices of cheese, nearly a cup of chili and liberal doses of salsa and corn chips, all on an 8-inch sesame-seed bun.

The Grand Rapids Press reports that anyone who eats the entire 4,800-calorie behemoth in one sitting will receive a special T-shirt. [AP/Grand Rapids Press]

Five beef patties? Corn chips? Five slices of cheese? And you get a T-shirt if you survive it, no doggy bags?

I can see the article for the first customer to tackle the burger: "'What Burger?,' the man gloatingly said before collapsing and foaming at the mouth." Instead of a T-shirt, should they get a complementary heart resucitation regardless of whether they're still breathing?

'The View' Broads Rock Vibrators (Ew!)

Working where I work, I am force-fed "The View" on a daily basis. Listenting to the great bevy of estrogenic point of views just leaves me with this thought: "Is my penis going inwards?"

I'm not gonna bore you with the biological semantics on how that maybe but, hey, look! Those crazy broads are talking about vibrators. How hot downright disgusting! (from BuzzCuts):

Heheh. Barbara Walters got in trouble. She likes self-pleasure. Heheh.

Pharrell Unable to Entertain Himself a Big Mac

Pharrell Williams of the Neptunes and N.E.R.D. is a musical innovator. I mean, who can make '80s synthesizers 'gangsta' and 'hood' while putting some Louis Vuitton-funk in between (my God, did I say something pretty douchey?) He's cool in my book except for the fact that he was partially responsible for laying a massive turd on Common's Universal Mind Control.

Anyways, below is Pharrell coaxing a McDonald's at an airport in Paris to open the only way he knows how (from RealTalkNY):

Just like the McDonald's in the States, French McDo employees don't take sh*t. And they will distinctly let you know that your craving for a Big Mac will be all for naught because the breakfast menu secedes every order, no matter if you're an "international music star."

BTW, they still call Quarter Pounders with Cheese in France "Royale with Cheese"?