Shillebrity

Now that Sean B. and Jason D. and B.la have gotten some love and ink from the venerable L.A. Times, I can’t think of a better time to wax rabid on what is my long-running, least-favorite filler found in that grand old rag ó namely any publicist’s mini wetdream known as the “My Favorite Weekend” column. Each Thursday readers are treated to some celeb (and I use that term in its most B/C-list sense) taking full advantage of the free publicity by regaling us with how uberhip and/or ultravapid they can be on any given Saturday and Sunday.

This week it’s “Joan of Arcadia’s” Amber Tamblyn who reveals riveting tidbits such as how she wakes up around noon on Saturdays and tunes into the Cartoon Network, or enjoys a Sunday breakfast of jalapeÒo-stuffed olives and crackers from a farmers market before hitting her yoga class. Oh, and she name drops too, talking about hanging at Vidiots film screenings with her daddy Russ and “his friends” Quentin T., Dennis H., and Neil Y. What I found most poorly timed is her mentioning her fave poetry places. “There’s always Midnight Special bookstore,” she says. Uh, Amber? Not anymore.

In actuality, I have little beef with Amber or any of the celeb’s who take advantage of such opportunities to further their 15 minutes and show us huddled masses that they’re real boring people just like us. I just wish the Times would shitcan such meaningless pandering.

3 Replies to “Shillebrity”

  1. I agree, “My Favorite Weekend” is super lame, but I read the funniest thing there a few months ago. Apparently, Gene Simmons’ weekend revolves entirely around cake. Saturday he hangs out eating cake. He takes his kids bowling on Sunday, “… and I go to the lanes next to this bakery where they make the best cake…” It’s an all cake weekend for Gene. Otherwise, it is a useless feature though.

  2. I so look forward to this column and am so frequently disappointed by it. However, a couple of years ago it scored a home run. A friend of mine who lives in Texas and I have one of those movie star crushes on Andrew McCarthy. I know, he isn’t really a movie star, but there was a time. Anyway, his favorite weekend was so specific. Not just places but the time of day he goes there. I sent it to my friend and told her next time she was here, we could have a perfect stalking weekend.

  3. After spending nine years on an island in the Caribbean, where an exciting weekend is one that is spent drinking shots of rum and anisette as beer chasers while watching small commercial aircraft take off and land on a runway where the B-52s USED to land, I moved to L.A, thinking that, given the size of the place and the variety of its residents, weekends had to be a bit more stimulating than the ones I was used to. So when I first read “My Favorite Weekend,” I was a bit surprised. Now that I’ve been here a few years, the comic effects of this weekly feature–rebaptized “My Limp-Dick Weekend” in my family–have lost their dadaesque edge. So I wrote to the “L.A. Times” and offered to invent some characters who do interesting things and who are capable of making pronouncements that are a bit more up-lifting than “On Sunday morning, we walk the dog on the Strand, if we’re up for it, and then we’ll stop at this little Mexican place and have huevos rancheros, if they have some, and then maybe, if we’re feeling really adventurous, we’ll go east of La Cienega to The Grove (We love The Grove ’cause it sort of looks like the Bellagio and it has all these people walking around buying stuff, and it was built by this dude who was police commissioner or something and he even named one of the streets after himself.) and catch a cool movie like the one where Kate Hudson wears those awesome boots that you see on the billboards.” But the “Times” never responded. Which is too bad, because my first feature was going to be about this guy who drinks shots of rum and anisette (they’re called “chichaÌtos” in Puerto Rican Spanish) while watching the planes take off and land at LAX.

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