MamaPop™

Twilight: Three Wolf Moon

Oh man, now this shit's FUNNY.

Tyra Banks, Please Step Away From The Fannypack

NO. Seriously? And it's designer? AS IF THAT MAKES IT OKAY.

Speidi Transmogrify Themselves Into Jon & Kate Gosselin: How to Make Me Lose My Faith in Humanity in One Easy Step

Heidi and Spencer Pratt, aka Speidi, are one of two of the greatest traffic accidents going on reality television these days, and by "traffic accident", I mean that I love to watch The Hills just to see if Spencer is still wearing that completely ridiculous, oversized cowboy hat and if Heidi will invite the neighbour kid, Enzo, over for Spencer to throw golf balls at again.

It all just goes too far, though, when they are hybridized with reality television's other greatest traffic accident, Jon and Kate Gosselin.

Tonight's Liveblogging Dose of Rat-Eating Awesomeness is Brought To You By The Letter V

I wasn't too much older than my kids are now when I had one of the great formative experiences of my youth: the original broadcast of the miniseries V in 1983. To call it awesome was to understate the nature of awesomeness — giant spaceships, alien subterfuge, the Beastmaster hisself fighting for the forces of good, and HOT ALIEN BABES WHO EAT RATS. For those of us who sat rapt with attention for night after night after night of this true miniseries event (remember when they had those? and it actually meant something?) watching this stuff unfold, it was life-changing stuff.

Heid Klum Redefines Slutowe'en. Thank You, Heidi Klum.

Every year, Heidi Klum embraces the spirit of All Hallow's Eve by finding new and exciting ways to decorate her body and throw a party in celebration of same. Sometimes the result is - what to call this? - Haute Slutowe'en, but sometimes, it's pretty interesting.

6 Murderous Psychopaths: A Halloween Gift From MamaPop To You

As an extension of MamaPop's ongoing effort to bring you the best in wholesome, family-friendly fun, we'd like to offer you the following list of some of our favorite murderous psychopaths. Some you may know, some you may not... but all of them deserve a very dark, twisted and frightening part of your life.

Please Don't Let Grau Wal Hair Jewelry Be the Next Big Thing

Certain fashion trends need to die. The return of popped collars? Horribly reminiscent of American Psycho era high society serial killers. Tissue paper thin jersey anything? Guaranteed to make anyone look lumpy and dowdy. Really long and pointy toes on shoes? If freakishly long and misshapen feet are your thing, all the power to you.

Some fashion trends, though, should never be born...

Fresh Hell: Mall Cop Director to Remake Short Circuit

Here's some input I didn't really need: Steve Carr, the d-bag responsible for Paul Blart: Mall Cop, has been signed by Dimension Films to direct a remake of Short Circuit, the 1986 sci-fi-lite flick in which a robot out-acted Steve Guttenberg and Ally Sheedy, which is almost an impressive feat.

Best of the Worst - A Personal Top 5 Horror Films for Your Halloween (Dis)Pleasure

When I was a boy, my parents would sometimes send me, usually late at night, down the hill behind our small farmhouse to close the chicken coop.  Fucking foxes would eat the chickens, other, less carnivorous animals would eat the eggs.  So, there's my 9-10 year old self, flashlight in hand and a silent scream in my throat.  Legs tense, ready to bolt at the fist sign of the Boogieman or Frankenstein Monster or the crazy, toothless guy that sold firewood around the area.  It was commonly know that he ate children.  That didn't stop us from pelting his old beat up truck with snowballs in the winter though.  Everyone knows that child-eaters fear a well packed snowball.  It's their Kryptonite. 

Going Bump In The Night: Six Movies For Your Hallowe'en Viewing Pleasure

 In a stunning piece of news that might've slipped beneath your usually impeccable radar, it's October. I'm not even kidding — you could look it up. In even more stunning news, the end of October means Hallowe'en, a night of trick-or-treating fun and stupid-ass parents who like to pretend they're stuffed scarecrows sitting in a chair next to the front steps until some cute little kid comes along and suddenly they jump up and scream bloody terrifying murder and scare the living bejeezus out of some sweet boy or girl who's been waiting all year to go out as a fairy princess or Superman. I fucking hate those parents.

What were we talking about? Oh, right... Hallowe'en, October... blah blah blah. More pertinently, October is the month where all right-thinking Americans (and the occasional right-thinking Canadian) choose to celebrate the dimming of the day and the fleeting popular embrace of ghosts, witches, demonic were-creatures and other critters not usually welcomed into genteel society by engaging in the time-honored tradition of watching lots and lots of horror movies. Why? Because, unlike children, we can make the conscious choice to be scared — because we understand and experience it as entertainment, as 90 minutes of escapist fun that frees us from the dreary bonds of our day-to-day and provides us with the vicarious thrill of gambling with our lives.

Welcome To My Nightmares, Lady Gaga.

No, really. Make yourself right at home, Lady. Seems that you fit right in, what with, you know, the horrible massacres of Hello Kitty dolls and all.

Paranormal Activity Trailer

I've heard whispers about this movie for a while. Called the next Blair Witch Project and already rife with lore such as how it scared the crap out of Steven Spielberg to such a degree that he was convinced there was something actually demonic about his DVD screener, the thing looks it might be the genuine, terrifying article.

Trailer after the jump. You might wanna brace yourself a little.

Jon & Kate-Inspired Pr0n Exists. Commence Barfing Now.

Thankfully, the pr0n in question is not of the estranged Gosselins. Not yet, anyway. But you know with their meteoric rise to "fame" a sex tape is due any day now.

No, the *ahem* film that I'm referring to belongs to that mainstay of the adult film genre: the parody.

The Death of Bunny Munro: a Novel by Nick Cave - A MamaPop Review

Do you know Nick Cave? And if not... what the hell is wrong with you? The man is a prophet and I think you oughta listen. For more than six fifteen twenty-five years, Cave has been a wild-eyed prophet of truth, rage, damnation and love — by and large as a musician of ill-repute and worldwide critical adoration, first with the late and much-lamented Aussie boy band gloom junkies The Birthday Party and then via a long and terrifyingly effective solo career with his own band, Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds.

If you've ever seen a photo of Cave, it gives you something of an inkling of who he is as an artist: a collision of dapper and decrepit, where broad lapels and oddly formal suits hint at the crooner's heart that lies - as often as not - buried deep beneath layers of Old Testament-quality torment and torrential waves of darkness, each deeper and more profound than the one that came before. If and when you read articles about him, he's often seen as something akin to an evangelist of the Gothic South fallen to sin and infamy -- a sensibility that flows through his work as strongly as anything you'll find in the intricacies of Faulkner.

Green Day Adopted My Son

My kids are crazy about Green Day. Whether it's my 5-year-old daughter doing ballet spins around the living room while sweetly requesting me to wake her up before September ends or my 11-year-old son pumping his fist and urging me to know my enemy, they're sold on Green Day without question. Certified Green Day heads.

And I have a confession to make. I just didn't get it. Their enthusiasm for Green Day made me feel like my Dad.

A couple weeks ago, I wrote about the Beastie Boys and the way they appeared in my life right when my life needed a soundtrack, something tumultuous and funky. They made my Dad sneer and shake his head. And then twenty-some years later, I scoffed my way right into being my Dad. 21st Century Breakdown? Pfft.

But then I saw them last week. And they killed me. I stood dumfounded in the midst of something much bigger than an obviously great show. It was the vision of my son hearing himself. I watched my son raging into his very own face.

Murdered Model ID'ed By Breast Implants; Reality Star Suspect Commits Suicide

It would all make a fantastic CSI episode, and I'm sure it will be one, as soon as they can get a script.

The remains of model Jasmine Fiore were identified using the serial numbers on her breast implants, and the international manhunt for the lead suspect in her murder continues, Authorities have deduced that Ryan Jenkins walked across the Washington/Canadian border to flee authorities. Jenkins' body was found today. 

Ryan Jenkins was a contestant on VH1's reality show Megan Wants A Millionaire, and the upcoming VH1 show I Love Money 3. Both shows have been cancelled in light of the arrest warrant.

I always knew reality contestants were shady, but could this guy really be a murderer?

this story has been updated after the jump

My Pants Are SO TOTALLY Into You Right Now

Aligned with our ongoing, tireless efforts to call to your attention aspects of our culture that might be viewed as suitable for inclusion in this site's archives under the category documenting Signs Of The Apocalypse, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I give you "Winkers^TM":