"What are they going to arrest me for? For being awesome." - Cole Hauser, "The Break-Up"
I'm headed for the airport, and praying for no flight delays as I'm due to board a plane that will eventually land me at the Hotel ZaZa, which should be a good time because despite a corporate party that's required, somebody else is footing the bill.
But before I raid the mini-bar and order some in-room "art" films, let's look at this past week because:
We're less than 24 hours away from the release of "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows," the final book in the series where the Muggle world will discover if Harry lives or dies or moves to an island in the Pacific with Snape. 
It's probably not the latter, but I'm just ready for the madness to conclude as I would like to walk into a local bookstore and not encounter an adult dressed as a wizard.
Lindsay Lohan left rehab on Friday following the completion of a 45-day residential treatment program, and was seen at a Las Vegas club the following night with an alcohol-monitoring ankle bracelet.
I'm not a qualified rehab specialist, but I imagine that Lohan's Vegas choice is akin to giving a reformed bank robber the key to a bank and telling them to simply enjoy the décor.
Former 'Grey's Anatomy' star Isaiah Washington is joining former 'EastEnders' star Michelle Ryan in the new US TV version of 'The Bionic Woman" for NBC as Washington will guest star in five episodes.
When reached for comment, Washington said "As long as she's not a gay bionic woman then I'm cool with that."
Michael Jackson has been ordered to pay more than $256,000 in legal fees to a firm that handled some side issues during the pop star's child molestation trial.
Jackson argued that for that amount of money he could have purchased at least 2 children on the black market, but his argument failed to sway the judge.
Comedian Dave Chappelle checked into a hospital over the weekend for exhaustion as the comedian was rushed to the emergency room of an unnamed hospital, where he remained for 12 hours before returning home.
It's hard to believe that someone could give Paula Abdul a run for the title of TV's biggest lunatic, but Chappelle is certainly pushing Abdul for the crown. Exhaustion my ass.
Victoria Beckham allegedly snubbed friendship overtures from Paris Hilton this week after Hilton said:
"I just know Victoria and I would get along. We could be soul mates” Hilton told a pal, according to the London Sun.
Posh responded with:
“Over my dead body!” she snapped to a friend, reports the paper. “We couldn’t be more different. You won’t catch me falling out of nightclubs with no knickers on.”
I never thought I'd say it, but I actually have a little more respect for Posh Spice right now.
But all is not gloomy for Hilton as almost a year after the release of her self-titled debut album, she is planning on returning to a recording studio to lay down the follow-up.
"I’m already working on my new record,” Hilton told E! Online recently. “I’ve been in meetings with Scott (Storch) and we’ve been working on it.”
Let's hope Hilton can avoid the dreaded sophomore slump with this album because her debut was so artistically amazing that it will be hard to top.
Speaking of hard to top, let's end with a top-flight image per usual:
If your ass is hot, make sure it stays where it is and regardless of the size, shape or firmness . . . Happy Friday!
-BDS
I recently saw this picture of Val Kilmer, and it just made me feel disillusioned as it's always disturbing to see actors you like let themselves completely go. 
What happened to the intellectual slacker of "Real Genius"?
Or the rival to Tom Cruise in "Top Gun"?
Wyatt Earp's best friend in perhaps his finest role? 
But now, he seems to be on a bloated slide towards utter softness and he looks very content to be there. I suppose he's earned the right to do so, however, it still irritates me for entirely selfish reasons.
- BDS
It's been a long time since the previous installment in this series, but I recently came across these pictures of Britney Spears and Mel Gibson and thought that the images constituted a titanic battle fit for this Evil series. 
As I mentioned, this is a fierce contest as Gibson's shot was in Costa Rica where he recently purchased a home (and has a glazed look similar to the one he displayed just prior to his DWI arrest), and Spears is simply acting crazy inside a sporting goods store and then looking even more unhinged with a hot pink wig.
I would have to argue that Gibson is the lesser of two evils here. Gibson is older, has more money and seems to have the good sense to take his particular brand of insanity to South America where he can drink and run wild on his own fortified compound without raising too many eyebrows.
He's obviously not hurting for women either.
As for Spears, she seems to be regressing again. She looks crazed and bloated and if her day job consists of bizarre displays of her questionable tennis skills, then I would also worry that it's only a matter of time before she fritters away the money she made when she actually had a management team that kept her on a short leash and working.
This was not an easy choice, but by judges decision I have to award Spears the victory. It's a dubious honor for certain, and Gibson only finished slightly ahead of her, yet in the kingdom of the blind, the one-eyed man is King.
-BDS
The annual running of the bulls last week in Pamplona, Spain was particularly noteworthy thanks to a group of pissed-off bulls, who hurt 13 people during the festival including a nasty goring of a pair of American brothers.
I saw highlights of these maulings, and I have to admit that I was cheering for the bulls. 
The running of the bulls is a colorful spectacle full of fear, mockery, "courage" and pure animal instincts. It is fairly bizarre that an entire festival would spring up to allow a bunch of the bulls the chance to even the score with humans who have lorded over and eaten them centuries.
I'm sure the human runners have their reasons for voluntarily choosing to place themselves in harm's way, but I could care less. My amount of sympathy for anyone being gored by thousands of pounds of pissed-off beef is nonexistent despite attendees wanting to "live life to the fullest" or "overcome fear" or any other rationale that precipitates climbing into the streets and running like a bandit.
Bulls are faster than you. They are meaner than you.
And anyone who hasn't heard the expression that if "you mess with the bull, you get the horns" deserves the natural conclusion that occurs when this saying proves to be true.
-BDS
I woke up yesterday, it was drizzling and on a whim I decided to go see "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix" at 9:30 a.m. But I was hungry. Damn hungry and I felt it was too early for movie popcorn and only people with low or nonexistent morals choose to eat nachos purchased inside the theater. 
So I opted for a bold plan that included smuggling in a contraband "grande breakfast burrito" from a Wendy's close to my loft.
I wore cargo shorts with many deep pockets, an untucked button-down and loaded the burrito in one pocket and a water in the other. Feeling like a fugitive, I made it into the theater without incident, and when the movie began, I quietly unpealed the wrapper and it was then that a potent smell of eggs, potatoes, peppers and onions was unleashed upon the other 30 or so people in the audience.
The two people sitting almost directly behind me whispered "what's that smell?" and looked around in vain. A single man sitting roughly six seats away crinkled his nose, but had no better idea of the culprit.
I was stealthy as a trained ninja and ate only when it was a dark part in the movie and when there were loud noises coming from the scene. It worked to perfection.
Nobody called me it, and it was the ideal meal to eat at 9:30 am on a rainy Saturday when popcorn wouldn't satisfy the lust inside me for a substantial meal.
As for the movie itself, it was proficient and solid and not much else in my mind. It's extremely difficult to condense a 900 page book into 2 1/2 hours of screentime and I thought the filmmakers did a credible job.
The cast of children were uniformly good as they navigated the waters of teen angst and sullen irritation without becoming annoying. 
The third Potter film is still the best, but Phoenix can only reasonably be compared to the fourth film which was also based on a mammoth book. I think the previous installment was slightly better than this latest one, but only slightly and I can't recall exactly what I'm basing that opinion on.
On the other hand, I didn't have a tasty burrito to eat during part four, which might just push "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix" over "Goblet of Fire" through circumstances beyond the filmmaker's control.
-BDS
"It's better to be dead and cool than alive and uncool," - Mickey Rourke, "Harley Davidson and the Marlborough Man"
I've been in the weeds this week during the my kick-off conference, so I may have missed some vitally important stories like Nicole Richie's trial being postponed and other Earth-shaking issues. That being said, I did learn about some items such as:
Clay Aiken was involved in an airplane disturbance a female passenger recently while en route to Tulsa International Airport.
FBI Special Agent Gary Johnson would not confirm identities, but said the dispute was over the male passenger's foot resting on the woman's armrest and that the woman gave the male passenger a "minor shove" during the argument.
Aiken was also overhead asking an unidentified male passenger is he "wanted to play footsie," an invitation which was declined and may have been an indirect cause of the later incident.
Victoria Beckham has insisted that she doesn't want to launch a movie career in the US. The Spice Girl claimed that she will be turning down any offers that she receives after moving to the States with her family, a move which received a big publicity push during an interview with Matt Lauer this week and a new pictorial in W magazine.
That's very wise of Posh not to jump into movies, but I think you have to be offered roles to officially turn them down (then again, I don't work in Hollywood).
Tori Spelling, the "Beverly Hills, 90210," alum is now an ordained minister, having obtained her certification online in order to marry a gay couple at her bed-and-breakfast
You just know that any marriage officiated by Donna Martin can only end in lifelong happiness.
Miss New Jersey, Amy Polumbo, kept her crown this week despite photos that show her acting "not in a ladylike manner."
Hours after Polumbo went public Thursday with photos of herself that had been sent anonymously to pageant officials, those officials decided the pictures did not merit stripping her of the title.
Only if Polumbo kept stripping in the pictures would they have stripped her of the title I guess.
US rapper P Diddy has split from his long-term girlfriend and mother of his three children, his publicist has said. The break-up comes just six months after 37-year-old model Kim Porter gave birth to twin girls, D'Lila Star and Jessie James.
My gut feeling is that Diddy sampled women other than Porter at roughly the same rate he sampled other artists for his songs.
It feels like a slow week or I just missed it, but let's end with a gold image anyway:
I am very proud of this shot as I just barely got myself in the frame before the flash went off. We'll leave the rest to the imagination, and with that in mind, visualize yourself in great situations, move towards them and . . . Happy Friday!
-BDS
This picture reminded me of that old Mel Brooks saying: "It's good to be the King." Well, it almost fits, but Prince Charles just looked filthy and fairly inappropriate at a recent ceremony in England. 
The image also forced me to wonder about the tipping point from when you move from a distinguished gentlemen into a filthy old man. I have no concrete data because I'm far from either of them, but my gut feeling is that the shift occurs when you stop wearing underwear, trimming your nose hair and start leaving your pornography on the coffee table out of sheer laziness.
But I think brazenly staring at an officer's breasts with a lecherous smile on your face also qualifies.
-BDS
Well, 2 days, 14 sessions, 6 cups of horrible conference room coffee, 1 glass of watered-down orange juice, 2 dinners, 6 Shiner Bocks, 3 Negro Modelos and countless conversations about the most mundane and universally boring topics I could muster, I finally made it out of the other end of my kick-off meetings and am now getting back to a normal existence.
And it feels good.
I would liken the two-day experience as something akin to having your pubic hair ripped out by a pair of rusty pliers, but that is probably a bit dramatic.
It's beyond me why somebody would feel the need to schedule a dinner at the end of an 8 hour day where you were cooped up with the same group of people who only vaguely know each other. It's a peculiar kind of torture. Why prolong the Executioner's Walk?
Not even a few beers could dull the pain of having variations of the same conversation over and over again.
- "Man, it's hot outside"
- "When did you fly in?"
- "When are you leaving?"
- "How are you getting home/to the next event"
- "I'd like to break down weeping, but I don't think it would be a good career move"
That last one didn't occur, but it would have lent the proceedings some sort of dramatic flair. Now, I actually have real work to catch up on, however, before I dive into that, here are the 5 best things I heard since Sunday night:
1) "I commit to this number - it's either the number or death."
2) "Picture a submarine. We need to plug that hole in the submarine so it will float."
3) "You can't learn to ride a bike from a seminar."
4) "My Dad owns roughly 80 guns."
5) "If you're going up against an 800 lb. gorilla, you've got to fight dirty."
I rarely say this, but it's good to be back in the office.
-BDS
I am dreading a company dinner I have tonight which constitutes the beginning of two days of "kick-off" meetings which means forced togetherness, positive reinforcement and unrelenting bullshit.
The all-day meetings are one thing as they are during normal working hours, but forcing me to fraternize with co-workers and infringing upon my Sunday is too much to take.
Sunday is supposed to be the day of rest for crying out loud. 
It's enough to drive a man to curse the black souls of his company E-staff, and drink heavily. One or both of these might occur, however, I will have to use the utmost discretion because I'm trying to drive home a raise in the next couple of weeks so this is the wrong time to alienate key allies or urinate in public places (unfortunately the times when these options are reasonable are becoming less frequent all the time).
I've always felt that the best way to improve company morale would be to cancel any planned outing, and to simply send everyone home early.
But this rarely happens, so I might be absent until mid-week when I'll have enough team building oozing from my pores that I will be allowed to return to my normal routine.
I'll be able to regurgitate the company values in my sleep when I'm not dreaming of naked, nubile mermaids. My brain might explode. My liver will recoil in shoke and horror. And yet that wonderful, corporate shit-eating grin will never leave my face.
Let the games begin.
-BDS
"I once wrestled a man on the steps of the Acropolis wearing nothing, but what God sent me into the world with," - Billy Connelly, "The Imposters"
With the Fourth of July falling on Wednesday, it's been a strange week of laziness and barbecue and fireworks, but Hollywood didn't stay completely quiet as:
Lindsay Lohan cancelled her planned 21st birthday celebration in Vegas, and traded that in for a low-key affair with her family. 
Now Lindsay can finally have a legal drink - this would be far more doable if she hadn't been drinking since she was 16, just got out of rehab, and is facing charges stemming from a recent car accident where cocaine and alcohol were found in her system. Details.
Former Hollywood madam Heidi Fleiss opened a new business this week, "Dirty Laundry," a new Laundromat venture in a small town about an hour outside of Vegas.
"Something made me do a Laundromat," Fleiss told FOXNews.com. "I need to work, I love to work and someone said a Laundromat, so a Laundromat it is."
A few years earlier, somebody told Fleiss "A high-class escort service," and it's anybody's guess what the voice will say next time.
Actress Cameron Diaz has denied having anything to do with illusionist Criss Angel's separation from his wife. In papers filed by Angel's estranged wife, Joanne Sarantakos, the ex named the Charlie's Angels star as the "other woman" in her divorce battle.
It appears Angel has been a horny Devil, and Diaz has been hop-scotching guys since JT's dismissal.
Racy photos of Nick Lachey and Vanessa Minillo were published in this week's Life & Style magazine showing the two engaged in a heavy makeout session in a Jacuzzi at a private resort in Mexico. There are rumors, however, that the photos only show part of the fun the couple had as others supposedly show some hardcore sex in the hot tub.
I've been in many a hot tub and know how erotic they can be. I've also seen "The Bachelor" where the hot tub always leads to heavy kissing and groping. But if you're a celebrity, it is not a wise idea to have sex in an outdoor spa unless you WANT to have your pictures end up all over the Internet (they're not there yet, but . . . )
The four stars of mega-hit Sex and the City have reportedly signed a multi-million-dollar deal to turn their TV show into a movie. Sarah Jessica Parker, Kim Cattrall, Kristin Davis and Cynthia Nixon are all set to reprise their roles, with longtime exec producer Michael Patrick King directing a script he wrote, according to variety.com.
Why this project took so long to come together is anybody's guess because none of these women have been lighting up the Silver Screen since the show ended.
Nicole Richie has not officially announced it yet, but more outlets are reporting that she is pregnant.
How embarrassing for Richie because when that child is about 5 years old, he/she will already weigh more than the mother.
Pop star Christina Aguilera is also apparently expecting her first child with music producer husband Jordan Bratman.
This makes it even less likely that Aguilera will revert back to her "Dirrty" days of chaps and boxing - too bad.
But let's end on a high note as I like to look forward and have a plan or a goal if you will:
I think we should all reach out and touch our goals as it feels like a good time to do so and . . . Happy Friday!
-BDS
{Editor's Note: This is a semi-regular series of high-water mark performances that spans movies, television, books, music and life its ownself.}
To combat the noise and bombast of the summer movie season, I recently watched "Before Sunrise" and "Before Sunset" on DVD. 
These are walking and talking relationship movies which were filmed nearly a decade apart with 'Sunrise' being released in 1995. This was the same year I graduated high school, a transitional time period that may or may not have something to do with my attachment to them.
But regardless, these films represent a high-water mark for a conversationally-driven romance that feels idealized yet authentic, films that are purely about dialogue and chemistry and touch on themes big and small while letting the characters mature with age.
In 'Sunrise,' Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy play strangers who meet on a train, and after an impromptu conversation decide to spend the night walking the streets of Vienna before Hawke catches a plane back to the United States the following morning.
Nothing happens. Yet a lot is revealed about these characters who talk and talk and talk.
They talk in bars, cafes and while walking the nearly deserted late-night streets of Vienna. They discover a lot about each other in a short amount of time due to circumstances that make the whole night feel like a stolen experience because it wasn't planned or expected. 
Hawke and Delpy gradually build a strong connection, and the actors have genuinely good chemistry together. I won't reveal the ending, but it feels right and true to the action that preceded it.
Nearly 10 years later, 'Sunset' finds Hawke and Delpy meeting again, this time in Paris, and once again their time is limited because Hawke is wrapping up a book tour before flying home to New York. 
It's interesting to see the difference in their physical appearance from a decade of absence. Hawke appears almost gaunt with his naivety gone, Delpy looks even more comfortable in her own skin and the changes only enhance the story. The film is shot very close to real time with Hawke and Delpy trading conversation in a different European city.
The topics have changed with time, but the pair still display an ease and familiarity that was so apparent in the first film. 
I have thoroughly enjoyed these films because the romance feels as real as a cinematic pairing can get (and I generally loathe romantic movies). Hawke and Delpy deserve a lot of credit as they rarely strike a sour note in both films. Overall, 'Sunset' is a stronger film, but you need to see 'Sunrise' to catch the full impact of the latter.
I actually think that Hawke gives his best performance in 'Sunrise' with Delpy owning 'Sunset,' yet the drop-off is negligible between films. Richard Linklater also needs recognition for simply placing the characters front and center, and allowing the movies to hinge on their believability.
The ability to keep these films interesting with the action coming almost solely from dialogue is a tricky and wondrous thing. I found it refreshing that there is a decided lack of irony and detachment in the films. Ideas mean things, and are valuable commodities to these characters.
It's too easy to wear an ironic smirk when dealing with weighty subjects these days. The candor and chances these movies took with minimal action and heavy dialogue paid off well in bringing one of the finest character study/romances to the screen that I've experienced to date.
If possible, the films should be watched closely to one another for maximum impact, and the sentiments expressed will continue to stand up well for a long, long time.
-BDS
An heir of Romania's former royal family put ''Dracula's Castle'' in Transylvania up for sale yesterday, hoping to secure a buyer who will respect ''the property and its history.'' 
Bran Castle is a top tourist attraction because of its ties to Prince Vlad the Impaler, the warlord whose cruelty inspired Bram Stoker's 1897 novel, ''Dracula.
Personally, I wouldn't mind visiting the place, but have no urge to sleep there as that sounds like playing with fire. Why tempt fate and Dracula? I see no good reason. The asking price, which is in excess of $100 million, also doesn't help matters.
But it really boils down to the fact that I would never sleep well in the castle knowing that a midnight trip to the bathroom might end with my blood being drained, and that officials would find my naked body curled up in the lavatory. There are better ways to die.
There are also better places for rest as the only way I would get less sleep would be to spend the night in:
1) Rosie O'Donnell's bed sandwiched between her and her partner.
2) Dick Cheney's cabin on a hunting weekend. Or any other weekend.
3) A submarine filled with Elvis impersonators and transporting rotten cheese
4) A tent on a wild game reserve in Africa with raw steak tied to my waist
5) A clown car after leaving a Golden Corral buffet
I guess there really are worse things than having your blood drained while visiting the toilet.
-BDS
It was a weekend filled with driving, food and fireworks for me as nearly $400 worth of explosives were ignited and I'm still eating leftover chicken and brisket and potato salad, which is almost better than the first time it goes down. 
Despite an excellent time, however, it was the driving that raised my irritation point beyond its normal level thanks to an abundance of personalized license plates that ran the gamut from silly to the point of wishing physical harm upon some drivers.
I have always regarding personalized plates with a health amount of fear and loathing. At best, they are innocuous, but at their worst they can destroy a car and the person inside it. I have no problem with people placing their initials on the metal as that seems just fine to me.
But when crap like "My Toy" or "Spd Dmn" start showing up, it's time to reign people in before they hurt themselves - or I do it for them. 
The one that sent me over the edge this weekend was a blue BMW 3-series that drove past me. Two guys were inside the vehicle, which bore a license plate reading "Pkg Man." Package Man - are you kidding?
I felt like pulling up next to the guy at the next stop light, dragging him from his vehicle and ramming his head into the plate until an imprint was left on his forehead. Was this too drastic? I think not.
Let the punishment fit the crime I always say. And if you're going to slap something that asinine on a BMW then whatever happens to you or your car is pretty much what you deserve.
I'm not saying that all people with personalized license plates are automatically a buffoon - but the likelihood is exponentially raised whenever the standard pattern of numbers and letters is broken.
-BDS
