Dim-witted dreamboat Robert Pattinson nearly negated Hollywood's hottest film series* yesterday when he was struck mid-saunter by a New York City taxi cab. It's not clear yet whether it was a host of heavenly angels or a group of screaming girls or Pattinson's own tight, steely buns that kept the Twilight star from enduring any serious injuries, but know this: The Eclipse adaptation is still a go.
*Not starring transforming robots, boy wizards, Spider-Men, Police Academys, or tin-plated billionaire playboys.
An adult bookstore in Akron, OH burned to the ground last night. While local zealots blame it on an act of God, and police will no doubt suspect an inside job, the fact that the five customers in the store at the time of the fire say they first "smelled, like, plastic burning," makes me think it was a faulty dildo a spontaneously combusting, self-stimulating massage device something else.*
*Note to whichever governmental group is in charge of such things: You see? This is what happens when you go overboard with your asbestos regulations.
When poet John Siddique asked Guardian UK readers to send him poems describing "their secret worlds of the night," I'd assumed he was a hard-up perv too stingy to buy his own porn. Then I read the submissions he chose for re-print, and thought, 'Oh, I get it. Dude's an insomniac and needs some help falling asleep.' Then I remembered that poetry is an art form chock full o' metaphor, and...yep...with a little imagination, you can make 'em all about sex.*
*All except the third poem, which is about taking out the trash. No, wait -- I just thought of the adult angle on that one, too.
*Well, it's date night for some of you. For the rest or us, it's a Twilight dvd, a rubbish bin, and a faulty dildo a spontaneously combustible, self-stimulating massage device something else.