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Megan Fox knows for a fact

Just in case you weren't convinced Megan Fox's mouth is a never-ending faucet of WTF, here she is explaining to Teen Hollywood how she recently overcame her fear of flying:

"I developed that (a fear of flying) when I turned 20. All of a sudden I got really afraid to get on airplanes. I had to come up with a way to deal with it because I didn't want to have panic attacks every time I get on a plane.





I know for a fact it's not in my destiny to die listening to a Britney Spears album, so I always put that on in my (headphones) when I'm flying because I know it wont crash if I've got Britney on."

Let me get this straight: Megan Fox knows for a fact she won't die listening to a Britney Spears album. Wow.

So, remember when Michael Bay said he cast Megan in Transformers after videotaping her washing his Ferrari? I'm 90% certain that's a cover story for finding her in an alley talking to a can of soup.

Hollywood Gossip,Hollywood News,Hollywood Celebrity,Hot Celebrity Gossip, Hollywood Business, Hollywood Actress, Celebrities Stars



Hollywood Gossip,Hollywood News,Hollywood Celebrity,Hot Celebrity Gossip, Hollywood Business, Hollywood Actress, Celebrities Stars

when cosplay goes bad (part 7).

This doesn't need the words....

comic relief.

A few more snippets of gory, Eurotrash graphic-ness.

Don't have nightmares.

Lindsay Lohan is a cracked-out diva

“Don’t f-cking touch me,” Lindsay muttered, and no one did anything! How about calling the cops on her dumb ass? Eh. How long will Lindsay continue to even be invited to these events? And what bothers me more is that Lindsay pulled this sh-t in front of her sister. Great message for Ali, right? Be a cracked out diva, hiss “don’t f-cking touch me” and everything will go your way.

Yesterday, Jaybird wrote about Life & Style’s cover story this week, in which a source claims “Anything Lindsay does, Ali wants to do.” This includes dressing alike, “looking shockingly skinny and sporting plumped-up lips.” So how long before we begin reading Page Six reports about Ali’s psycho, cracked-out diva behavior? And you know Ali wants to be the kind of “celebrity” Lindsay is. You know, the kind of “celebrity” that never works, perpetuates neverending drama, breaks into her own home (allegedly) and gets sued all the time. Tragic.

Oh, and in case anyone cares, Lindsay Lohan just tweeted that regardless of whatever rumor is spreading like wildfire, she is not in a psych ward. Lindsay wrote: “Hahahaha my publicist just called me & said she heard I was in a psych ward!!!! Hahaha WHAT IS WRONG with people???? I’m working lol…BUT that’s one I’ve NEVER heard about myself before! New ones r always interesting huh? There’s SO much more going on in the world! Wake up.”

Oh, Lindsay. She’s so wise. Tell us more about what’s happening in the rest of the world, Lindsay!

The most beautiful pictures of Hannah Montana

Have a look at this beautiful screenshots of the first episode of the Disney Channel show Hannah Montana. She looks great with her pink dress.

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Young Cassidy has taken an interest in my old Mego Planet Of The Apes figures at the moment (tho' they've yet to depose Shatner as 'king of toys') so I've been trying to find some suitable simian based cinema for him to enjoy.

No other choice really.

Tanya's Island (1980).
Dir: Alfred Sole.
Cast: D.D. Winters, Richard Sargent, Don McCleod, Mariette Lévesque, Donny Burns and a monkey.

Olive of skin and dusky of eye model Tanya (Winters, AKA former Prince plaything and born again Christian Vanity) is looking to make it big in the film business. She has the attitude and the looks but alas, not the time keeping skills needed seeing as she's continually late on set due to her unhealthy obsession with power walking whilst listening to lush, sub Jerry Goldsmith style music.

For her big haired producer Kelly (French ex popstrel and star of the fantastic Sex in the Snow, Lévesque) this is the final straw, warning Tanya that her personal life (and her constant jogging) has to take a back seat if she wants to make it big in the business they call show.

If that wasn't enough to ruin her whole week then the fact that her bushily bearded beau Lobo (unfortunately not the Tor Johnson character from Bride of the Atom but bit part legend Sargent) has decided that this will be the best day to dump her might just clinch it.

Not too surprisingly a bloody big argument ensues, ending with poor Tanya storming (well jogging) back home to gorge herself on chocolate and watch a true life drama on Movies 24 (she is female).

Curled up on the sofa with congealed snot and melted Hagen Das all over her face Tanya begins to hear a strange grunting cum groaning sound from her bedroom (tho' it may be the sound quality of my ancient VHS) and in best Nancy Drew manner, tiptoes upstairs to investigate.

Upon opening her bedroom door she's shocked to find not an asthmatic intruder but hundreds of flickering candles leading to a soft core title sequence featuring Vanity rubbing her breasts whilst mouthing "Come to me...."

Which is nice.

...and her breasts, her frightening
bush and shiny flat tummy.

Waking as if from a (wet) dream, Tanya finds herself on an idyllic island paradise alongside hunky Lobo and a big white horse (did someone say symbolism?), where they apparently live a simple and carefree existence; Lobo spending his days painting and catching fish whilst Tanya idles away the hours riding around topless on the horse.

So far so erotically charged.

Probably.

After what seems like days of soft focus shots of Tanya jiggling on a pony in slow motion whilst Lobo looks on lustfully in his big white, homemade nappy our titular heroine, whilst exploring the jungle finds herself being pelted with fruit from the bushes.

Thinking that there may be a local shop just over the horizon (and needing some hairspray) Tanya decides to go take a look.

Stumbling sexily thru' the undergrowth she soon comes across a dark, forboding cave which she cautiously enters.

Could this be a metaphor?

Well we've no time to think it thru' because no sooner has she popped her head around the corner that she meets the caves owner.

A huge, man breasted Gorilla with an 80's soft rock mullet.

Tanya, frightened by the hairstyle on show runs away in terror but realizing that it's the first interesting thing to happen so far in the movie returns to the cave to let the big ape put flowers in her hair whilst stroking her fingers in a saucy (for a monkey) manner.

Tanya names the ape Blue on account of his bright blue eyes (luckily she hadn't seen his bright pink arse yet) and decides he's a far better conversationalist and not to mention a much less messy eater than poor Lobo whom she soon abandons to his fish.

The poor guy is distraught at the thought that his girlfriend may be secretly seeing someone else (you can tell he's in emotional turmoil because their frequent and unnecessary love making scenes have gone from loving slo-mo beach frolics to cum face close ups of him taking her from behind in a tent) so decides to follow her on one of her daily jaunts and discover the truth.

Vanity, up the casino, 1980....Yesch!

Lobo, doing what any sane man would do when faced with such a dilemma, builds a huge bamboo cage and traps Blue by constructing a scale model of Tanya out of bananas to lure him inside before banging the walls and slapping him with a stick whilst singing Daydream Believer.

Tanya is, not too surprisingly, upset by these turn of events and also a wee bit scared of Lobo's almost animalistic rage.

Tho' this may be a sign of discomfort and sore knees due to the constant shagging she's having to endure as he exerts his manliness.

Bored with spanking the monkey, Lobo insists that Tanya accompanies him to the other side of the island, as far away from Blue as possible so that they can carry on their simple life as before, but with the rougher sex obviously but Tanya refuses (her knees are red raw) and late one night frees Blue.

Lobo is furious, popping a saucepan on his head as a makeshift helmet before locking Tanya in the cage and dancing around like your dad at a wedding.

You can tell it's only a matter of time before someone's going to end up dead can't you?

Lobo is big leggy.

Blue who, up until this point has been the very model of decorum, has had enough of all this man-based mentalism thinking fuck you all before violently throwing loads of coconuts and mango's at the pair, forcing Lobo to hide in the cage too.

Who is the real animal?

Clue: that'll be the monkey then.

Will Lobo and Blue learn to share?

Will it all be a dream?

Or will Blue kill Lobo before chasing Tayna into the jungle howling, only stopping to jump on the poor girl before taking her up the arse whilst she screams in blue tinted slow motion?

And then it all be a dream?

Go on, guess.

No need.

Tanya's Island is a film that really needs to be experienced first hand as no amount of musings or reviews can ever hope to encapsulate the sheer ludicrousness and clumsy sixth form artistic pretensions on display.

Producer Pierre Brousseau's minimalist script comes across like a youth theatre version of Walerian Borowczyk's The Beast but without any of that arthouse cum sleaze epics genuinely erotic qualities, nightmarish visions of female sexuality and, more importantly minus it's fantastic 13 inch ejaculating rubber cock.

The film clumisly lurches from one scene to the next like some crippled drunk staggering home after a night on the tiles, director Sole (who made the fantastic Alice Sweet Alice) mistaking blurry shagging and lip biting for artistic erotica and deciding that a man in a monkey suit (scarily designed by Rick Baker and Rob Bottin on what must have been a slow day) wrestling a bearded bloke in a pair of dirty Pampers would be the subtlest way to show an audience that civilised man is but a savage beast at heart.

Sir, I salute you.

Which is more than I'd do to the cast, seeing as it's much like viewing three large pieces of plywood stomping around a garden centre with the subtlest performance being from a piglet that unfortunately gets killed less than halfway thru.

Sargent is all big kneed, pube permed and shouty whilst Vanity only seems to have been cast due to the fact that her breasts look not bad when sprayed with fake sweat and that she has no shame when it comes to feigning horror whilst being forcibly shagged by a gorilla.

Somehow she never mentions this movie in interviews and appears to be less embarrassed by the fact that she let Prince put it in her.

It's a strange old world.

Megan Fox and her Transformers director Michael Bay

This is how it begins. And ends. Not with a bang, but with a “screw you”. Here’s the thing - I totally think Megan deserved to be called out, and continues to deserve to be called out for her dumb, outrageous, ignorant, unprofessional, nasty behavior and words. I’m just not sure I want to call her out while defending Michael Bay, who seems like an a-hole too. Plus, I’d like to see Megan really face some more serious consequences for her behavior - like, a line of producers and directors declaring that they have no interest in working with her.

This is an open letter to all Michael Bay fans. We are three crew members that have worked with Michael for the past ten years. Last week we read the terrible article with inflammatory, truly trashing quotes by the Ms. Fox about Michael Bay. This letter is to set a few things straight.

Yes, Megan has great eyes, a tight stomach we spray with glycerin, and an awful silly Marilyn Monroe tattoo plastered on her arm that we cover up to keep the moms happy.

Michael found this shy, inexperienced girl, plucked her out of total obscurity thus giving her the biggest shot of any young actresses’ life. He told everyone around to just trust him on his choice. He granted her the starring role in Transformers, a franchise that forever changed her life; she became one of the most googled and oogled women on earth. She was famous! She was the next Angelina Jolie, hooray! Wait a minute, two of us worked with Angelina – second thought – she’s no Angelina. You see, Angelina is a professional.

We know this quite intimately because we’ve had the tedious experience of working with the dumb-as-a-rock Megan Fox on both Transformers movies. We’ve spent a total of 12 months on set making these two movies.

We are in different departments; we can’t give our names because sadly doing so in Hollywood could lead to being banished from future Paramount work. One of us touches Megan’s panties, the other has the often shitty job of pulling Ms. Sour pants out of her trailer, while another is near the Panaflex camera that helps to memorialize the valley girl on film.

Megan has the press fooled. When we read those magazines we wish we worked with that woman. Megan knows how to work her smile for the press. Those writers should try being on set for two movies, sadly she never smiles. The cast, crew and director make Transformers a really fun and energetic set. We’ve traveled around the world together, so we have never understood why Megan was always such – the grump of the set?

When facing the press, Megan is the queen of talking trailer trash and posing like a porn star. And yes we’ve had the unbearable time of watching her try to act on set, and yes, it’s very cringe-able. So maybe, being a porn star in the future might be a good career option. But make-up beware, she has a paragraph tattooed to her backside (probably due her rotten childhood) easily another 45 minutes in the chair!