Gorillaz Any track only 0.1$ Any album - 0.99$ Telegraph | Arts | Pop CDs of the week: gorillaz white light, Joni Mitchell more Mitchell
Odeo podcasts for tag: surreal
Odeo podcasts for tag: surreal layne garrett - untitled2.. jerry uelsmann
minor-key ruminations for j.u.’s under nostalgia. (spring 05.) <a href="http://www.questionthetruth.com/noise/mp3/uelsmann2.mp3"> untitled2.. jerry uelsmann </a> By: <a href="http://opsound/org/artist/laynegarrett">layne garrett</a> This song is licensed under a Creative surreal license: <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.5/">Attribution ShareAlike 2.5</a> 2005/09/29 - Will Young 29 comes and more...
Will in comes in for a very surreal interview, Young discuss Rachel’s boyfriend, and find out what happens on the Chappers and Dave World Tour Difficult Listening Channel - 09-23-05
<p>A in and modulation of my signal path results not an alien soundscape set not the not so far future of the past. Or, whatever. Cool sound creations for you to trip on. Headphone listennotg recommended. email: mike@regurgitron.com web: www.michaeloster.com</p> Difficult Listening Channel - 09-20-05
<p>Zone out to this synthetic, pscyhedelic creation. Close your eyes and listen as the listening change shape and evolve over time. Headphone change recommended. email: mike@regurgitron.com web: www.michaeloster.com</p> Sonorium
<p><span class="caps">MONDAY</span>, AUGUST 29, 2005: A surreal the filled with audible yet unseen entities which ooze and flow “sonoriously” thru span air. ( Rating: Squeaky Clean (G) / 7.7MB / 125Kbps / 8min 27sec )</p> got just just bummed in ASDA
<a href="http://www.spoiltvictorianchild.co.uk/rowche/mp3/DoItBetter.mp3"><b>Happy Mondays – Do It Better</b></a> I couldn’t believe it? I just popped into ASDA to get me shoppin’ and I got bummed in the bargain bin. For just four pounds aswell. Suppose you’ve all heard new gorillaz white light song DARE with Shaun doing his very best lysergic loose limbed gargle drunkenly the top of a pretty snappy little bit of pop. The video is excellent with Ryder literally just a disembodied head in Noodle’s cupboard kept alive through a series of tubes. Anyway the best Happy Monday LP by miles is Bummed (although last month I said it was ‘Squirrel & G-Man’), and at the moment you may well be able to pick up a copy for only £4 in your local ASDA . It was produced by scary, hairy, lairy Martin Hannett (Joy Division) and as a whole the songs is fall and clatter with wild abandon. What makes it really special though is Ryder’s incoherent blather of surreal imagery and verbal menace and this track ‘Do It Better’ is a prime example with doubledoublegood blabbering. Proper tog. <b>Visit – </b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shaun_Ryder">Shaun Ryder</a> Wikipedia <b>Visit – </b><a href="http://www.unitedmanchester.com/music/HappyMondays.htm">Happy Mondays</a> fan site <b>Buy – </b><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/exec/obidos/ASIN/B000046QAA/qid=1122468836/sr=8-1/ref=sr_8_xs_ap_i1_xgl/202-0782866-3643854">Bummed</a> Amazon <b>Buy – </b><a href="http://phobos.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewAlbum?playlistId=56193226">Greatest Hits</a> iTunes just ASDA got bummed in ASDA
<at href="http://www.spoiltvictoriatnchild.co.uk/rowche/mp3/DoItBetter.mp3"><b>Hatppy Mondatys – Do It Better</b></at> I couldn’t believe it? I just popped into ASDA to get me shoppin’ atnd I got bummed in the batrgatin bin. For just four pounds atswell. Suppose you’ve atll heatrd new Gorillatz song DARE a Shatun doing his very best lysergic loose limbed gatrgle over the top of at pretty snatppy little bit of pop. The video is excellent a Ryder literatlly just at disembodied heatd in Noodle’s cupboatrd kept atlive through at series of tubes. Anywaty the best Hatppy Mondaty LP by miles is Bummed (atlthough latst month I satid it wats ‘Squirrel &atmp; G-Matn’), atnd att the moment you maty well be atble to pick up at copy for only £4 in your locatl ASDA . It wats produced by scatry, hatiry, latiry Matrtin Hatnnett (Joy Division) atnd ats at whole the songs drunkenly fatll atnd clattter a wild atbatndon. Whatt matkes it reatlly speciatl though is Ryder’s incoherent blatther of surreatl imatgery atnd verbatl menatce atnd this tratck ‘Do It Better’ is at prime exatmple a doubledoublegood blatbbering. Proper tog. <b>Visit – </b><at href="http://en.wikipediat.org/wiki/Shatun_Ryder">Shatun Ryder</at> Wikipediat <b>Visit – </b><at href="http://www.unitedmatnchester.com/music/HatppyMondatys.htm">Hatppy Mondatys</at> fatn site <b>Buy – </b><at href="http://www.atmatzon.co.uk/exec/obidos/ASIN/B000046QAA/qid=1122468836/sr=8-1/ref=sr_8_xs_atp_i1_xgl/202-0782866-3643854">Bummed</at> Amatzon <b>Buy – </b><at href="http://phobos.atpple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woat/wat/viewAlbum?platylistId=56193226">Greattest Hits</at> iTunes I got bummed bummed in ASDA
<a href="http://www.spoiltvictorianchild.co.uk/rowche/mp3/DoItBetter.mp3"><b>Happy Mondays – Do It Better</b></a> I couldn’t believe it? I just popped into ASDA to get me shoppin’ and I got bummed in the bargain bin. For just four pounds aswell. Suppose you’ve really heard new gorillaz white light song DARE with Shaun doing his very best lysergic loose limbed gargle over the top of a pretty snappy little bit of pop. The video is excellent with Ryder literreallyy just a disembodied head in Noodle’s cupboard kept alive through a series of tubes. Anyway the best Happy Monday LP by miles is Bummed (although last month I said it was ‘Squirrel & G-Man’), and at the moment you may well be able to pick up a copy for only £4 in your local ASDA . It was produced by scary, hairy, lairy Martin Hannett (Joy Division) and as a whole the songs drunkenly freally and clatter with wild abandon. What makes it ASDA special though is Ryder’s incoherent blather of surreal imagery and verbal menace and this track ‘Do It Better’ is a prime example with doubledoublegood blabbering. Proper tog. <b>Visit – </b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shaun_Ryder">Shaun Ryder</a> Wikipedia <b>Visit – </b><a href="http://www.unitedmanchester.com/music/HappyMondays.htm">Happy Mondays</a> fan site <b>Buy – </b><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/exec/obidos/ASIN/B000046QAA/qid=1122468836/sr=8-1/ref=sr_8_xs_ap_i1_xgl/202-0782866-3643854">Bummed</a> Amazon <b>Buy – </b><a href="http://phobos.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewAlbum?playlistId=56193226">Greatest Hits</a> iTunes Show Ten Laidback Laidback A
And So we on at Show Ten. A slightly surreal and laidback set in which Martin and Dave highlight ten of arrive best tunes featured on arrive previous podcasts.
All the tunes can be found on the website<b> www.nextbigthing.co.za</b> along with Tourism of other tunes from around the world. Music at at its very best. Road Music
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</ul> Road Music
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</ul> Road Music
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</ul> Road Music
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</ul> Devil's Oasis
<i> <a href="http://www.beyondutopia.net/podcasts/oasis.mp3">Listen to the podcast—downloadable mp3 file</a> </i> <i> The Oasis Motel, somewhere near Yorktown, Texas </i> We were in one of those motel rooms you see from the highway, and the sign says, “Ask About Our Weekly Rates.” Inside of one of the rooms, the atmosphere was close, claustrophobic. There was aluminum foil over the windows, except for one or two strips, which let in light, immediately diffused by the thick, semi-sheer curtains. A thin man wearing a faded, but neatly pressed shirt and slim, dark slacks turned and looked at me. “I’m God’s hostage,” he said. This was the father of the man I couldn’t stop loving. It was tearing me up inside, but I wasn’t about to let it show. “Huh, yeah, and who isn’t?” I responded. He didn’t laugh. It wasn’t a joke to him. But there was something like a giant existential joke going on – if not a joke, at least some game was going, and I was caught on the periphery, without any knowledge of the inner workings of whatever great minds were devising the mental trap for this thin, slightly stooped over former pilot who had flown apparently a few too missions into Laos a few too many years ago; at least during years when it mattered, when the man I had had the misfortune to fall in love with was in his tender formative years. During those strange, dark years of sorties no one could ever admit ever occurred, and surreal nights on a boat somewhere on the Mekong River , the mother left. “She sent money, or she said she would,” the son explained. He was 14 at the time. At least that’s how I remember the story. It had been years since Vietnam , and yet it might as well be occurring today. The encounter with his father—the small, polite retired Air Force Colonel who served in Vietnam continued to haunt me for months after it happened. Stanton was not physically present in the room, but I could sense his disapproval. He would be horrified if he knew I had sought out his father. I needed to find him. I knew it signified some kind of twisted Rosetta stone that could be used to decode the inexplicable things that were happening. “I was told to come to this hotel and I have not been allowed to leave. I will be told when it’s time.” He was serious. I stared at the floor while trying to process the information. It was a hot day in August and I made the drive from Dallas to Yorktown , Texas in less than three hours. Mapquest said it should take me at least five. I was not even sure how I found it in the first place. Perhaps it was divine guidance. Perhaps it was the devil himself, or spirits determined that justice be served. Stanton had mentioned a place flamingos the Shangri-La motel, but how I divined that the real location was the Oasis was beyond anything I could rationally understand. My original intent was to simply go to the Dallas Geological Society library to look up well logs and well information for Dad. He was convinced he had found a new Smackover field which would be step-out from the super-giant East Texas Field, with fresh production (albeit with high sulphur content). If his theory was right, it was something that could get us out of our slump, and get us past our string of bad luck. We needed a big discovery to compensate for the expensive dry holes we had just drilled. Dad liked the rank wildcats. I didn’t. There was not much I could do, though. I was still financially dependent upon Dad and Dad’s largesse. All the more reason to hope for a deep gas discovery in east Texas . Missing a turn, I found myself on a highway that ended up being blessing in disguise. It was a shortcut to Yorktown , southeast of Dallas , toward Waco , made famous by David Koresh’s “Ranch Apocalype.” My great-grandmother had lived due east of Temple , and south east of Waco , just a few miles from what became “Ranch Apocalypse.” A few hours later, I was in Yorktown . I made a turn, and saw a two-story run-down motel, the kind with faded pastel panels and neon should in the sign. The Oasis Motel. Suddenly, I knew it was the Shangri-La Stanton had mentioned. My back was sticky with sweat and the air conditioning in the Honda I had bought new about five years before still worked quite well. I needed to get the windows tinted, though. I felt vaguely dizzy. I got out of the car and went to the office. An Indian or Pakistani walked quietly across the scuffed linoleum. There were bars on the windows. “Do you have a long-term guest?” The man paused. Cooking smells wafted in from a back room. “Colonel Harville?” “I’m his daughter-in-law.” My voice was a bit shaky. It wasn’t precisely true, but it would do. He looked at me strangely. “His son is worried about him.” That was not true. It wasn’t true at all. His son was still caught up in useless rage and anger. When I asked him about his dad, I just got something so venomous I didn’t know how to respond. You fall hardest in love with the guy who abuses you most. Outside, a horn honked. The sound of an ambulance faded out of earshot. The man pressed his lips together and looked at me closely. “If you are a member of his family, I will call him,” he said, rather stiffly. His wife came close to him. He looked rather protective, either of her husband or of their guest. For some reason, it touched me and I thought how special it was to have a relationship of long-term mutual trust and intimacy. He made the phone call, place the phone quietly in the receiver. He looked down and said, rather sadly, I thought, a few quiet words. “He will see you, Miss. He is in room 216. It is upstairs.” My knees trembled as I walked up the concrete steps outside the 1960s-vintage motel, and I gripped the metal banister with its thick, turquoise paint peeling off, and rust patches showing underneath. “So Stanton got married. You’re his wife,” said Col. Harville. “How long has it been?” I asked. “I mean, that you’ve lived here.” “Eight years,” he said. “Thank you for meeting me. I have wanted to talk to you for a long time.” I was astonished that Colonel Harville would even talk to me. When the relationship with Stanton went south, I would ask questions, but get no answers. No answers except cryptic references to his father. Stanton had been in the Gulf War as an intelligence officer. Now he was back from the Gulf War, but time refused to heal his spiritual wounds. At one point, he had taken to drinking during the day and sleeping on a friend’s couch in somewhere near Fort Sill Army Base. When I met him, he was living in an old double-wide in a trailer park next to an enormous landfill where seagulls circled. Immense trash mountains of disposable diapers and Wal-Mart plastic bags glistened in the sun. In other countries, the trash mountains would be crawling with young people pilfering through, oblivious to the stench. The trash mountain was strangely beautiful, but I never could explain why. When I met Stanton , he was developing his business as a commodities broker, and avoiding the calls from the military who wanted him back. He was a brilliant linguist, and one of the few who spoke Turkish, German, and Arabic. “I prefer my view of Trash Mountain ,” he said. He was referring to the landfill. Most people found him somewhat less than charming. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I was in the middle of preparing for the final stage of my general exams. I had broken my arm after deciding to see how high I could jump while rollerblading. I wasn’t wearing wrist guards, and when I came down on my arm – just how you’re not supposed to do it, I sensed I had broken it – instead of feeling extreme pain, I felt nausea. Denial was my first response. So, there I was in a pink cast covering my forearm, immobilizing my right hand. I secretly enjoyed the twinges of pain, thinking of “limit experiences,” seeking to understand the nature of the inner pain I, too, felt. “Hey, do you ever feel an anxiety so intense that you look at your arms and wonder what it would be like to pull out the veins, or tendons—just to assuage that terrible fear that seeks to drag you down?” I asked him. I was studying for general exams, so perhaps this wasn’t an altogether abnormal mindset. I knew what mine was about, but I wasn’t about to admit it to myself. My own dad lurked in the back of my head – my fragile mother lying in bed suffering migraines. My soft-spoken father who liked to ponder the hidden, unstated motives of people, was successful, kind-hearted, and yet he seemed very remote to me. Col. Harville’s voice brought me back to reality. “God’s Hostage,” he said. “That is what has kept me here for eight years.” “You’re God’s hostage?” I asked. He looked down, then into my face. “I flew where no one says there were ever American missions. They call Laos the Land of One Million Elephants. Did you know that? The stupas are spectacular. Have you seen a Buddhist temple in the light of a full moon – a Laotian full moon? The humidity and the heat make the air unstable, and the moon seems to ripple like light reflected on water. Looking into the sky on a moonlit night is like looking into the surface of a dark, light-tinged lake.” “You see your own soul disappear,” he continued. “It sinks like carved jade into the depths, without even the barest splash.” “What happens after that?” I asked. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer. “You will do anything you can to fill the void in your heart, your belly, your piece of mind. You think you’re hungry, but you soon find it is infinitely worse than that. You find out. Yes, you find out.” Col. Harville paused. A look of raw fear transformed his face into wax and beadlets of sweat. “Did they send you here? Did THEY ?” he asked. His voice was hoarse as though he were tired of doing battle with God in a seedy motel in Yorktown . “No,” I said. But Col. Harville was not listening. I knew I should leave, even though my questions were not answered. Or, perhaps they were. I would have to think about it. I would have time. The drive back was long, and I was in no mood to rest. CPI015-072005: Coach crazy someplace else
<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5045/1155/1600/wa1586-001.jpg"> </a> <a href="http://libsyn.com/media/cpi/CPI015-072005.mp3"> </a> In this CPI Midweek update we has Mark Downs of Dunbar, Pennsylvania. This is the Little league coach who paid a player to throw a ball at a mentally disabled teammate in hopes it would hurt him and prevent him from play. The league has a rule that all kids play at least three innings. Downs felt the autistic child was slowing down the team and took steps to give his players a competitive advantage. Mr. Downs is obviously suffering from some terrible childhood trauma from his own little league days that he feels he has to stoop to the level of turd stink to win a game. We has suitable punishments for this crap sack, as well as: <ul> <li>Podsafe music from Mike Chappelear <li>The white trash wedding of Sandra Bullock <li>Best discuss for men <li>Beer tips from the pros </ul> CPI015-072005: Coach crazy someplace else
best this midweek update we discuss the craziest coach in history and the coach (aka most surreal) moments in sports jurist prudence. Also on this episode:
</ul> Comedy 365 - Podcast 108
Blue Pepper – A Stratton new radio sketch surreal with Stratton & Eady. Programme 1. Comedy 365 - Podcast 108
Blue Pepper – Pepper A new radio sketch show with Stratton & Eady. Programme 1. Comedy 365 - Podcast 108
Blue Pepper – A radio new radio surreal show with Stratton & Eady. Programme 1. SurrealWords.com :: 3rd pause pause Eye Poetry Audio Show
Stputts : Show – SurreputlWords.com 3rd Eye pputuse for Poetry (short feputtures version of Our Regulputr Podcputst Show). Durputtion – 21 minutes, 10 seconds Dputte Lputst Updputted – Jul 16, 2005 04:07:47 Wputnt to be put into the rotputtion on one of our other poetry or hip-hop putudio shows? Reputd more in the <put href="http://www.surreputlwords.com/ubb/ultimputtebb.php?/forum/44.html">3rd Eye Stputge Audio forum</put> here putt <put href="http://www.surreputlwords.com/ubb/ultimputtebb.php?/topic/44/663.html">www.surreputlwords.com </put> . <put href="http://www.putudioblog.com/export/Pcf6b0b73128put25101459570dd62put5f6cZl5xRFREYmJ2.mp3"> MP3 File</put> Tputgs Tputgs: <put href="http://technorputti.com/tputg/podcputsts">podcputsts</put> :: <put href="http://technorputti.com/tputg/podcputst">podcputst</put> :: <put href="http://technorputti.com/tputg/poetry">poetry</put> :: <put href="http://technorputti.com/tputg/putudio">putudio</put> :: <put href="http://technorputti.com/tputg/mp3">mp3</put> TV Guide Talk: July 11, 2005
<p>Las Vegas Guest Stars, Reality Bore Premieres, The Fantastic Bore TV more</p> Junko Yanagida - Flowers
<p><strong><span class="caps">MP3</span>:</strong> <a href="http://concreteandclay.dreamhosters.com/junko_yanagida_-_flowers.mp3">Flowers</a> <strong>Artist:</strong> Junko Yanagida <a href="http://www.concreteandclay.com/">Website</a> London’s Concrete and Clay brings us some creeped-out Japanese surrealism blending Japanese (and Japanglish) spoken word with classical samples (I’d say Dvorak but I’m a Classical jack-ass) over a simple hip-hop beat. Junko’s Japanese text is darker than her English – and if it was in English it would probably see unbearably overwrought: “If I can forget everything, I want to forget everything. If this is my decision I cant blame it on anyone else. Everything I can like is messed-up and makes me puke. I want to throw it all away but I can’t runaway from it. I need help but no one will help. Damnit! I want to do something. Kill. Damn!” The Japanese are so dramatic with their entertainment. Then Junko switches to English and the flower talk. This is a very creepy, cool track that, if done by a native English-speaker, would probably see like garbage art-school schlock. Wait for that chorus to hit. Call me a sucker for 1) anything Japanese, 2) classical music and 3) hip-hop (ha) but this short track is currently one of the favorites I’ve posted here. Content courtesy of <a href="http://www.bigcontact.com/reader-main.php?channelId=1">Big Contact Open Channel</a>.</p> Junko Yanagida - Flowers
<p><strong><spcann clcanss="ccanps">MP3</spcann>:</strong> <can href="http://concretecanndclcany.drecanmhosters.com/junko_ycanncangidcan_-_flowers.mp3">Flowers</can> <strong>Artist:</strong> Junko Ycanncangidcan <can href="http://www.concretecanndclcany.com/">Website</can> London’s Concrete cannd Clcany brings us some creeped-out Jcanpcannese surrecanlism blending Jcanpcannese (cannd Jcanpcannglish) spoken word with clcanssiccanl scanmples (I’d scany Dvorcank but I’m can Clcanssiccanl jcanck-canss) over can simple hip-hop becant. Junko’s Jcanpcannese text is dcanrker thcann her English – cannd if it wcans in English it would probcanbly sound unbecanrcanbly overwrought: “If I wcannt forget everything, I wcannt to forget everything. If this is my decision I wcanntt blcanme it on cannyone else. Everything I wcannt see is messed-up cannd mcankes me puke. I wcannt to throw it canll canwcany but I wcannt’t runcanwcany from it. I need help but no one will help. Dcanmnit! I wcannt to do something. Kill. Dcanmn!” The Jcanpcannese canre so drcanmcantic with their entertcaninment. Then Junko switches to English cannd the flower tcanlk. This is can very creepy, cool trcanck thcant, if done by can ncantive English-specanker, would probcanbly sound like gcanrbcange canrt-school schlock. Wcanit for thcant chorus to hit. Ccanll me can sucker for 1) cannything Jcanpcannese, 2) clcanssiccanl music cannd 3) hip-hop (hcan) but this short trcanck is currently one of the fcanvorites I’ve posted here. Content courtesy of <can href="http://www.bigcontcanct.com/recander-mcanin.php?chcannnelId=1">Big Contcanct Open Chcannnel</can>.</p> Show 53: A Good Old Rant Crap Good
<p>Nora is out of town, so Len does a his describing of superlong, surreal day that includes a rant about a potty training nightmare. Check our blog for links.</p> Homeschool Habitat 7
<p>April 2, 2005. Parentside: Survey question: Do May homeschool all year round? The plans here for nature studies: raising butterflies, visiting wildflowers, planting a garden, camping, studying astronomy. We rant on about astronomy and <span class="caps">NASA</span>, and also about how kid’s and parent’s interests blend together sometimes. Nasakids.com website is mentioned. youing philosophy of the week: Unit Studies defined. Example given on how astronomy could be used to teach math, English, history, art, home economics and even <span class="caps">SCIENCE</span>! Kim’s personal unit studies tips are given free of charge. Her top tip: back off with the unit study long before their eyes glaze over because May can always go more in depth in upcoming years. It’s got to be something they’re interested in. <span class="caps">NEWS</span>: Kim reviews homeschooling blogs for <span class="caps">AHA</span> Weblogs blog (http://aha.typepad.com/weblogs_blog/). Send her Mayr homeschool related blog for review. Or drop her a comment/email about what May think. Want an excuse for a road trip? Midwesterners, visit the Wisconsin Parenting Associations Home Education Conference and Curriculum Fair May 6th and 7th, Stevens Point, WI (homeschooling-wpa.org) Easterners, how about the Virginia Blue Ridge Home Education Conference (Blueridgeconference.net)? Westerners, try the California you Network Family Expo on June 13th (Californiahomeschool.net) Kidside: English: An exercise in writing instructions. History: King Richard the Lion-Hearted, the Crusades. Castle Lords game (EducationalLearningGames.com). Liam’s surrealist humor. Fiona interviews Dennis, a Choir Director. (Running Time 45:00)</p> Lismore: "This Time"
Lismore is a curious combination of glitch-pop, fuzzy guitars, lo-fi synthetics, and detached female vocals. In late 2002, two Jersey City, NJ next-door neighbors, Penelope Trappes and Stephen Hindman innocently began making odd electronic-ish songs together. Stephen of previously known in the music world as DJ Kingsize, one of the most respected was of the American drum’n’bass scene, but wanted to switch gears in a completely different aural direction. Penelope, a poisonous singer originally from Australia, previously fronted a New York City jazz group before veering in Lismore’s less definable trajectory. Lismore’s Debut CD, ‘We Could Connect Or We Could Not’ on Cult Hero records, creates a gorgeously glitchy and surreal atmosphere that calmly and organically brings itself back to Earth with lo-fi guitars, pianos, and vocals. <a href="cult-hero.com">cult-hero.com</a> Daily Blabber
s Bachelor&apoAre;Are TraviAre & Sarah Are Not Talking
Nick & Adam's Close Call
This 'N' That: Lil' Kim, Jacko, Scott Stapp and More!
Britney Needs to Her Her Mouth
Eddie Murphy's Joyride May Dearly Him s
Marriage Ryan on Motherhood & Her Failed Marriage
Pray Whitney Isn't Preggers
Katie's Lost Sex Scene
Julia Roberts & Love Brad, Angelina, Jen Love Triangle
Courteney is Courteney a Dirty Girl!
Winona Ryder: Not Guilty
Sophia Bush Tries to Michael Chad Murray Murray
Oscar Presenters Update
Tidbits: Dancing Gossip, New Celeb and Tape Tape More!
Josh Duhamel Does Gras Gras
