Teaser Announces End of Darkness

OMG. I'm back. Does anyone care?

I'm a tad peeved at myself, if you want to know the truth. I had all these grandiose plans to reorganize the blog, get rid of certain categories, and develop new features, but here it is February 4th and everything's still the same. Guess I bit off a bit more than I could chew, peeples. Bear with me just a little longer?

Okay, Grease is playing on HBO as I type this and I still cannot get over how hot John Travolta looks tapping away in pink. Why doesn't someone like him turn up on Dancing With The Stars? Man, old Edna Turnblad really had tight junk in his day. I just can't figure out how the entire shape of his head changed in twenty-five years. I mean, it's one thing to get old, another to get old and fat, and quite another to end up with a different shaped head, don't you think?

Anyhoo, the reason the blog didn't make as much progress as I thought is because I took a freelance job and then the whole family packed up and went on vacation. To another country. With expensive wireless. That we couldn't afford. It was all I could do to keep up with the job, let alone e-mail and let's just say I didn't do so well with that either. With over five hundred messages in my inbox, I'm thinking of doing a Cathy. That's right, a bulk dump. Man, am I tempted.

If anyone out there sent me an e-mail and you haven't heard back from me by now, chances are you won't. I know that's bad netiquette, but strangely, I no longer consider that at the top of my priority list.

Okay, at least one of the changes around here goes into effect today. Yes, this post is lame, I know. It's really for my own amusement anyway as I know hardly anyone actually reads these articles. A teaser article of more to come. New format means more articles, less words, and more focus on celebrity politics. Check back later today to see it in the flesh...in the type...in the...whatever.

Heh heh. Danny's trying to feel up Sandy. "Oh, Sandy!" Gotta go.

Baltimore Premieres Hairspray Hooplah

My temples are starting to throb. Yep. I'm starting to get a headache. I know I can't stop the beat, but could you please turn down the volume?

Baltimore hasn't felt this much celebrity buzz since John Travolta and Joaquin Phoenix came to town. Oh yeah. Ladder 49. Filmed in Pigtown. Of course, that was before Martin O'Malley and the General Assembly cut funding for Maryland's fledging film industry. Wasn't that supposed to be a division of The Department of Business and Economic Development? No wonder director Adam Shankman filmed the Broadway version in Toronto.

Poor little Charm City. Right when this latest incarnation of Hairspray goes mainstream Hollywood, Baltimore gets blackballed from its own tender story of overweight hons, Dick Clark wannabes, and civil rights riots. You gotta love a town like that. Takes a licking and keeps on ticking.

I heard Hairspray progenitor John Waters gave Shankman carte blanche on production. As great as Waters is, I'm a little peeved. I think he compromised the location because Hollywood power games aren't his cup of tea. As reflected in films like Pink Flamingos, Female Trouble, and Desperate Living, John has been and always will be quintessential Baltimore . His claim to fame is sticking with a genre he invented when Tarantino was pre-pubescent. If Edith Massey was alive to see what Hairspray has become, she'd lock up the Owl Bar and throw away the key.

Speaking of Hollywood mind games, none of the local premiere hype mentions John Travolta or his lovely wife, Kelly Preston. I hope their conspicuous absence isn't related to all the mean-spirited blogging. After Saturday Night Fever, I will always have a soft spot in my heart for John. Zac Efron, Amanda Bynes, Nikki Blonsky, Brittany Snow, Elijah Kelley...they're all very nice, but not in John's league. Love ya, Vinnie!

I have to think Queen Latifah may show. Reports of P. Diddy in town and living large are starting the make the rounds. That and a surprise appearance by Nicole Richie at an Annapolis fast food restaurant. When do celebrities like that ever come within partying distance of Pigtown? There must be more in the works than meets the eye.

Dare I dream of Michelle Pfeiffer or Christopher Walken sightings? Now that would be something worth jumping the light rail to Charles Street. Then again, the thought of fighting celebrity hungry masses for a fleeting glimpse of Tinseltown satellites only contributes to the pounding between my ears.

With everyone inundating downtown, this may be the perfect night to catch Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. May not even have to pre-buy the tickets.