Justin Bieber has been behaving badly lately, and we are left to imagine what’s gone wrong with the teenaged heartthrob, and why he’s so precipitously falling off the cliff of life so willfully at the peak of his fame:
Justin Bieber hit speeds of 136 miles an hour in his rented Lambo just hours before his arrest …
We’ve now obtained the FULL GPS speed readout for the evening in question — not just the period immediately surrounding the arrest.
Check it out. The GPS map corresponds to the readout. At 1:23 AM Justin was on the Julia Tuttle Causeway in Miami Beach, heading toward the nightclub. He was clocked at 108 MPH and within a minute he accelerated to 136 MPH.
There were two remarkable, maddening, things that happened over the weekend. Both events were related to fame and the failure of human consequence against the living, but the terms of the punishments were different: Both eternal, but one forever ended.
On Saturday, we read in the New York Times about the harrowing child abuse Dylan Farrow suffered at the hands of her infamous father, writer, director, actor and movie producer, Woody Allen.
On Sunday, we learned of the early death of actor Philip Seymour Hoffman who, at age 46, lived up to his earlier prescience about fame and fortune leading to a quick Hollywood death. He made his point real in New York City with a needle jabbed in the arm of his corpse.
Kanye West is one of our most unfortunate and disingenuous fame whores — worse even than his brittle fiancé and Baby Mama, Kim Kardashian — and he’s recently been conveniently “caught” wearing, gasp this, a “Confederate Flag” as if he were a modern redneck KKK member from the Deep South, even though he’s just a regular Black man from Chicago!
Oh, the outrage!
Oh, that Kanye!
What would you think of a mother who purposefully set out to make her 10-month-old baby girl cry — just so she could record the breakdown and publish it on YouTube for the entire world to see?
Would you champion that mother as the prime protector of her offspring?
Or would you instead be bothered by the unnecessary spectacle of a mother exploiting the emotional well-being of her vulnerable baby for entertainment purposes?
Growing up in the 70′s, subliminal advertising was everywhere, and it was always a fun challenge to look at the modern advertising of the day and try to divine the nocturnal missions hidden therein.
“Sex” was a big seller in every way — the most famous evidence of such being the strategically placed curls in Farrah’s hair on her infamous poster. The “S” in “Sex” is found on her right shoulder, the “e” swirls in the curls above her breasts, and the “x” is found dangling on the inside of her opposite shoulder.
Young men pinned that image to their walls and found great thrills in that lightning rod smile, that hair, and those absolutely hard, and forbidden, nipples! Yes, Charlie’s Angels on TV was all about erect nipples showing through skimpy bathing suit tops and sweaters.
On today’s television, female nipples are verboten and often blurred by self-censoring series producers. All the visceral, sexual, fun has been blurred out of current media mainstream. I’m so glad we have the Universal channel on cable TV where early-morning Charlie’s Angels reruns often appear, uncensored, and still in their full-nipple fury to satisfy the immature little boy left behind in most of us.
Elissa Reilly Slater was evicted from the Big Brother 15 house last night, effectively ending her chance to win half a million dollars, but she kept her morality and dignity intact and that, to me, is more precious than Big Brother blood money, and as far as I’m concerned the real, true, and only winner of BB15 is Elissa even though the show runs for another two weeks.
From the start of the show, Elissa was marked. Her horrible sister Rachel was a previous winner, and professional whiner, and there are few Rachel Reilly fans in the Big Brother world. Elissa was tagged by the other houseguests as being favored by the producers — and she was, just because of her shared bloodline with a previous winner — and it didn’t help that Elissa, a doppelgänger of her sister, denied being Rachel’s sister when asked. A lie from the clean start can never really take you to the dirty end in victory.
That said, Elissa, a premier athlete of a Yoga instructor, bided her time and played the game as well as she could all alone. She tried to make alliances. She wanted to team up. Nobody would have her. Nobody listened to her insight or wisdom. She was written off as a sibling airhead by everyone in the house — even her supposed “friend” Helen — who dictated to Elissa without ever hearing her.
The sales pitch on booking.com who we use for all our hotel bookings:
This historic Vienna hotel features a health club with gym, indoor pool with sunbathing lawn, sauna and steam room. Guests reside in a 19th century Imperial Riding School in Vienna’s diplomatic district, while enjoying the lush 2,000 m² private garden.
The boutique style Imperial Club offers uniquely designed rooms and suites with elegant furnishings. Standard features include flat — screen TVs, high — speed Internet access, safes and air conditioning.
Organic Austrian cuisine can be enjoyed at the hotel’s Borromäus Restaurant with a winter garden or on the beautiful summer terrace. The Arsenal Beer and Wine Pub proposes typical Austrian dishes and seasonal specialties of highest quality.
Guests may discover hidden gems only a local would know with Renaissance’s In-The-Know recommendations, personally curated weekly by the hotel’s Navigator.
The Ringstrasse and the city center, the opera, concert halls, theaters and museums are within easy walking distance. The Rennweg Train Station is right behind the hotel and provides a fast and direct connection to the airport (22 minutes). Various tram stops are only a few steps away.
We paid in advance last year and got an exceptionally good room rate — around 75 euros a night.