I woke up Sunday morning and turned on my Blog Top to find that Hollywood is making a Wendy O. Williams biopic. That’s badass. I love the Plasmatics. Hot naked punk chicks setting cars on fire and blowing up buses, while their nipples are covered in strategically placed pieces of electrical tape. It’s why our forefathers signed things like the Constitution and Newt Gingrich’s Contract with America.
Are the producers casting some hard-bitten young actress like Rachael Leigh Cook or some indie-film siren powerhouse? Nah. It’s the cheerleader girl from Heroes.
As I commented in one of last week’s tirades, I enjoy Hayden Panettiere. She looks like a hostess at TGI Fridays. And I love those little donuts they have for dessert. But why on God’s smog-ridden Earth would this girl be the right choice for such a project?
I love rock biopics. I even enjoy those awful ones VH-1 attempts every couple of years. Remember that one where the developmentally challenged guy fromThere’s Something about Mary
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played Meat Loaf? Only for fans of bad wigs and emoting from Hell.
This is unconscionable. What’s next? Hilary Duff playing Nancy Sinatra? Wait, that might be kinda hot, come to think of it. An Olsen twin playing Nico? The dude from In Living Color as Ray Charles? Oh shit, that actually happened, huh?
Save the Cheerleader. Puke inside a Limo… - Craig Hlavaty