Big Freedia will be turning the party at the the Echoplex in Los Angeles TONIGHT, Friday May 9th! Show starts at 11PM but get there early to celebrate the release of Freedia’s album “Just Be Free!” Click over to read more and get tickets!

Get there early (6:30 to be exact) and celebrate the release of “Just Be Free!” There’s going to be CD giveaways, meet and greet, and a New Orleans surprise! You can get your tickets on Echoplex!

Let the music play!

The post TONIGHT: Big Freedia at The Echoplex appeared first on World of Wonder.

Jon Ronson
Brent Ridge
Andrea Anders
Barbara Taylor Bradford
Bono
Dallas Roberts
Donovan
Erik Palladino
Helio Castroneves
Kenan Thompson
Lauren Potter
Leslie Stefanson
Linda Evangelista
Lisa Nowak
Odette Annable
Polly Walker
Todd Lowe
Victoria Rowell
Young MC

The post It’s Birthday, Bitch appeared first on World of Wonder.

This past week Michael Alig was released from prison. His longtime friend and WOW Report writer James St James went to document their re-union. Cue a starburst of indignation and instant judgement on social media. Many people think Michael Alig shouldn’t ever be let out of jail. Others think it was wrong of us to be filming in the first place. But there is a justice system and we are storytellers, and this is a story that has fascinated us for many years. It is a story that fascinates others too, or his release would have passed without comment. Yes, it is violent and horrific as so many of the stories are (both scripted and unscripted) that confront us as news or entertainment on a daily basis.

In both the documentary and the feature film James’ complicated relationship with Michael was at the core. Theirs is an unresolved relationship. It was extreme, but also completely relateable. Our friends and loved ones can do cruel and unkind things. But we don’t unfriend them. Because life is not a Facebook page, and morality is more complex than a tweet.

So we asked James to help document the reunion of two people caught up in a horrible event that set them on different paths. How does James now relate to Michael? How does Michael relate to James and the strange new world around him? Only time will tell but we hope that Michael, who has been given a second chance, can build a purposeful life and use his talents to help others.

Here’s our take on the experience of producing and directing Party Monster the documentary and the feature from our book The World According To Wonder.

One night before Christmas, in 1996, we sat in the Hollywood Canteen waiting for James St James to arrive for dinner. From the moment he swept into the restaurant, it was clear that he had something on his mind. Throughout dinner he regaled us with the mother of all stories: How Michael Alig had turned from being king of the club kids to club-kid killer; how Michael’s roommate Freeze had hammered someone called Angel (so-called because of his habit of wearing feathered wings with a six-foot span) over the head; how Michael had injected the unconscious Angel with Drano; how they had dumped the body in their bathtub and left it for a week or more before hacking the legs off, stuffing the torso in a box, and dumping it into the East River. James apparently knew all the gory details and spared us none.

The gist of this amazing story was not unfamiliar. All year long we had heard the rumors of a murder in Manhattan. First there was a blind item in the Village Voice by gossip columnist Michael Musto. Then there was a cover story in the Village Voice by reporter Frank Owen that named names and went into even more detail. There were also reports in the New York Post and Daily News, and a bizarre feature in Details magazine, complete with pictures by David LaChapelle, anointing Michael as a postmodern murderer – naughty but nice.

But in spite of the press we didn’t believe it. In fact, because of the press we didn’t believe it. We thought Michael had conceived the whole thing as one of his situationist pranks: Angel disappears and Michael goes around telling everyone that he killed him, going so far as to write “Guilty” on his forehead, and just as the police were about to arrest him he would throw a huge party and Angel would come down from the ceiling wearing his wings. It seemed another of Michael’s brilliant attention-getting devices, the drumbeat of press merely confirming the success of Michael’s clever media virus. For sure, Michael needed something to give his career a boost. For several years he had been throwing an annual gore-themed party called “Blood Feast,” inspired by Herschell Gordon Lewis’ similarly titled splatter classic of the ’60s. Michael even pictured himself on the invitation with his brains bashed out, a bloody hammer lying nearby. But the novelty of these parties was wearing thin. To have Angel reappear as if back from the dead would be just the kind of coup that Michael, wunderkind turned drug mess, desperately needed.

And so we waited for the invitation.

We had known Michael almost as long as we had known James. We first met him within a few weeks of his arrival in New York. Still in his teens, he was a shy kid, cute as a button, who had somehow persuaded management he was old enough to work as a busboy at Danceteria.

Instead of joining the existing scene, he quietly created his own. No one paid him any attention as he gathered a bunch of kids around him with wacky monikers like Christopher Comp, Jonathan Junkie, Julius Teaser, and Jenny Talia – “like the mother goose creating all the little fairy-tale characters,” as Michael Musto put it. The club kids, as they became known, lived up to their cartoony names with outfits spawned out of a channel-surfing psychosis, sampling consumer and celebrity culture like kids in a candy store. At Disco 2000, Michael’s weekly club circus freak show, he created a surreal playground where they could cavort with other post-cartoon creations such as Clara the Carefree Chicken and Dan Dan the Naked Man.

We loved the club kids and their nutty aesthetic, and tried to raise money to make a documentary about them. But we hit a wall. What to us was “modern art on legs” (to borrow Boy George’s description of Leigh Bowery, a major inspiration for Michael) was to television executives just a bunch of kids making an exhibition of themselves: “Who wants to know about a bunch of clubbers running round thinking they are famous?”

The fact that these kids did nothing other than wanting to be famous was not just the point, but the whole entire point. In the post-Warhol era, Michael Alig realized that fame was not the reward of a meritocracy. Stardom was a chimera, nothing more than a reflexive act of self-invention. “Don’t dream it, be it,” as Frank-N-Furter advised. You didn’t have to be rich, you didn’t have to be beautiful, you didn’t even have to do anything. Once upon a time you might have had to be Calvin Klein, Liza Minnelli, or Halston to get into Studio 54. But to get into Disco 2000 all you had to be was fabulous.

And it didn’t matter if you had no money; out of nothing other than some ratty wigs and torn tights you could doll yourself up as some Dada bag lady from space and this absurd ensemble – worn with sufficient confidence – would sweep you past the velvet ropes of nightclubs into the VIP rooms. And it didn’t matter if you were ugly, either. Perhaps out of revenge for his own wretched school years, these were the very people that Michael wanted to empower – the poor huddled masses fresh out of junior high who didn’t fit in.

Moreover, Michael understood that instead of trying to assimilate into the current scene, the trick was to head in the other direction. Instead of trying to look cool, Michael and his gang played the fool and tried to look as ridiculous as possible. The club kids made spectacles of themselves by tottering around on absurdly high platform sneakers, wearing unitards with the butt cut out, and waving kiddie lunchboxes. Initially greeted with derision, the look soon caught on; the lunchbox and platforms became de rigueur.

Michael had big plans for his movement, envisioning the club kids as a brand/lifestyle that would at once copy and satirize the marketeers like Ralph Lauren and Martha Stewart. To maximize press coverage, he started his own magazine, Project X. He released a single for Clara the Carefree Chicken on his own record label. Then he persuaded Limelight’s owner Peter Gatien to pump millions into Club USA, which, packed with corporate logos and neon, was conceived as a parodic celebration of consumer culture, a simulacrum of Times Square actually in Times Square. In preparation for the opening, Michael went across the country on a club kid talent search. He was a veritable Pied Piper, bringing more misfit toys into his orbit.

But there was another side to Michael’s command performance as entrepreneur. From the Filthy Mouth contest to Ida Slapter’s champagne enema, Michael was trading in subversion. The person who created the cutesy club kid trading cards also wanted to launch a line of candy in the shape of drugs. There was always this anarchic edge to Michael’s plans that made them so tempting. As Ernie Glam said of those buttless pedophile romper suits he made for Michael, “It was some kind of perverted sex clown aesthetic where it was very childish and silly but at the same time kind of nasty and obscene.”

Michael’s brand of spectacle also depended on escalation. He had a thing about pee. “Urinvited,” read one of his invitations. Not a particularly original pun but when the invitation came written on a slip of paper in a vial of pee-colored liquid, the ick factor hit home. Then came Ernie the Pee Drinker, a man who would get on stage and drink a glass of his own pee. And Michael himself got into the habit of peeing into bottles of beer and handing them out as free drinks, and peeing off the balcony of Disco 2000 onto the people below.

Michael never peed on us, but it became clear how far he was prepared to take his commitment to extreme chic when we produced a commercial for the opening of Club USA. When it came time to get paid, we had to wait hours in the lobby of the club for Michael, who finally appeared with the money in loose bills in a brown paper bag. “Oh. Hi. There you are. Count it,” he said breathlessly. But we were too gobsmacked by his appearance to count it. It was winter, but Michael was wearing only lederhosen and a flimsy T-shirt. He had a cyst on the back of his neck the size of a grapefruit. But that was nothing compared to the hundreds of puncture wounds all over his body. Lips of flesh curled out like small mouths from the suppurating wounds. We were aghast. But Michael was his usual self: “Oh, some bum threw me through a storefront window,” he said with a wave of his hand.

When Michael reached his nadir as a drug mess, he thought he was the coolest. From the catwalk where the supermodels pranced to the sidewalk where River Phoenix expired, heroin chic was all the rage. Michael made sure he was its ultimate exponent: emaciated, a mass of bruises, cuts and sores, limping, covered in shit and piss and vomit. In this revolting extreme, perhaps he thought he was as iconogasmic as Clive Barker’s Pinhead. But Michael had crossed a line. The kid who had always laughed at junkies had become one. The life of the party who threw himself down stairs just to stir up more drama was now so fucked up that falling down stairs was all he could do.

Even at this point, we thought that the only person Michael would end up killing would be himself. But as he racked up overdose after overdose with casual flair, repeatedly bouncing back from the brink, it was clear he wasn’t going anywhere.

Ghoulishly, it was the tantalizing possibility that Michael might just have murdered someone that secured us some development money, six years after we first conceived the club kid documentary. Since we weren’t sure if Michael was going to be arrested or die from an overdose, we wanted to shoot as much footage as possible as soon as possible. One of the first things we filmed was an interview with Michael in James St James’ East Village loft. It was August, sweltering, and James’ apartment was in a state of junkie disarray, reeking of cat shit. James himself didn’t smell too good. His widow’s peak of green hair offset the pallid cast of his skin. But although he looked like death, he was his usual charming self. As we set up, James and Michael showed us how to bake Special K. Once this was snorted, they touched up their makeup and we filmed them. And that was when Michael jokingly said on camera that he had killed Angel. “I killed Angel. And – I’m sorry. That’s the kind of thing that gets me in trouble.” When pressed, Michael seemed to drift off and the words came slowly, one at a time: “I’m an easy target, because I was with him the day before… he… was… gone.” There was a long pause, some more
stammering, and then, “I have my own ideas.”

Later that night as we were packing up, James said he needed to get out of New York, and that he was thinking of moving to LA. He said he wanted to become a writer. We encouraged him to call us when he arrived in town.

So when James came to the end of this unbelievable story of how Michael had killed Angel there wasn’t much more to be said. There certainly was no longer any doubt in our minds. A few days later, Michael was arrested for Angel’s murder.

Things happened quickly after that; make of it what you will, but suddenly it wasn’t hard to raise the rest of the money to shoot the doc.

Along the way, we met this club kid with red hair called Thairin Smothers. We originally began talking because he had some footage of Angel he had shot. Plus he seemed to know everyone and all the club kids trusted him. He began helping us out on shoots and soon came on board as associate producer. Thairin was different from the others. He was present on – but not immersed in – the scene, and was not lost in a daze of K. He seemed to be watching everything and taking it in. As we got to know him, we learned he had worked on Jerry Springer’s show in Chicago before coming to New York with his video camera. When the film was over, he moved to LA and became our receptionist. Now, of course, he is a fantastic producer in his own right and very much at the heart of the whole company, whether it’s booking celebrity talent for Drag Race or whipping up a batch of guacamole for the potluck office lunches he organizes.

Party Monster: The Shockumentary, as it came to be known, was our first film to go to the Sundance Film Festival. But there was a sense that this was not quite what documentaries were supposed to be about. Before the film, Sundance ran a short PSA-type film about drunk driving. There was, perhaps, un certain regarde about the lack of moral positioning. And quite apart from that, something about the story felt untold to us. That we might have missed the real story: the love/hate, twisted-sister bond between Michael and James. So we decided to make a movie about the story.

When we first asked James to write his story as a kind of post-modern In Cold Blood, he refused. Somehow, we persuaded him (hint, ca-ching!). Then we took the simply amazing manuscript he wrote and got him a book deal. We wrote a screenplay based on his book, and couldn’t resist weaving in a few elements from the documentary. That was all relatively easy compared to the task of persuading financiers to come on board.

Christine Vachon, the legendary producer, suggested we write a mission statement to help get nervous nellies on board:

Disco Bloodbath is a buddy movie with a twist, or a twisted buddy movie. Its focus is the relationship between Michael Alig and James St James, two kids from the Midwest who come to New York where they re-invent themselves as fabulous people. Although it is not immediately clear to James, Michael instantly recognizes that they are soulmates and latches onto him. Shy outsiders as kids, they both learned to hide their feelings behind witty façades, and their bickering and barbed exchanges speak to a deep bond and co-dependency. Of the two, Michael is the quicker study, even though James is smarter and more learned. So although it is James who initiates Michael into New York nightlife, it is Michael who quickly rises to the top.

To get there, Michael was equipped with no special skills or qualifications other than his considerable charisma. He had a twinkle in his eye. A postmodern Peter Pan, he made no secret of the fact that he never wanted to grow up. The way he gulped his words, the way he gestured, projected a child-like vulnerability. Unfazed by being a misfit from the Midwest, Michael gathered around him similarly like-minded souls – the kids who had been teased and bullied in school – and gave them fabulous new club kid identities. They were the Lost Boys to his Peter Pan.

James could see that Michael’s chaotic and unruly behavior was a kind of genius performance art. Michael’s minting of superstars out of those least likely to be stars parodied society’s absurd obsession with celebrity. His attention-getting antics parodied the dysfunctional circuses of our talk show times. His surreal infantility parodied our culture’s overriding obsession with youth. The starburst that was Michael inevitably put James somewhat in the shade. But like him or loathe him – and James did both – he found it impossible to resist him. James was not alone in this. Everyone seemed unable to resist the Michael Alig Show.

But just as David Bowie became trapped by his Ziggy Stardust creation, so Michael became hostage to his bratlike persona. He continually had to outdo himself with increasingly outrageous pranks. One day Michael went too far. He murdered Angel. When James first learned about this, he could almost let Michael get away with it. Angel had attacked Michael, hadn’t he? But even with Angel reduced to a mere sacrificial symbol, James was forced to recognize that no excuse could justify such a brutal thing. Even the surreal anarchic alternative universe they had created for themselves had to conform.

The goal of the film is to give viewers the ride of their lives, to be seduced by the scene, so that when tragedy strikes they feel implicated and discomfited. James may be the hero but he is a reluctant hero, and we want the audience to feel his sense of loss rather than lofty righteousness as he brings down the curtain on the Michael Alig Show. Instead of demonizing Michael as a freakish killer, we want to make viewers feel the very real connection between him and ourselves. When we look into his heart, we are looking into our own: Who has not at some point in their lives wished that they could stay young forever or stay out all night and never have to go to work? Who has not at some point even imagined killing someone?

Coming out of the theater, the audience should breathe a sigh of relief: There, but for the grace of God, go I.

Now that we had our mission statement, we needed a cast. Everyone agreed the perfect person to play Michael would be Macaulay Culkin, not least because it had been written with him in mind. But he didn’t seem particularly inclined to get back in front of the camera after his star turns in the Home Alone films made him the most famous kid on the planet.

So God bless Seth Green, because he was the first aboard and applied himself to help secure Mac. And once Mac signed on, we were spoiled with a truly amazing cast whose talents and generosity far exceeded our measly budget. Natasha Lyonne, Chloë Sevigny, Marilyn Manson, Diana Scarwid, Wilson Cruz, Mia Kirshner, Dylan McDermott, and the impossibly delicious Wilmer Valderrama bought a huge amount of goodwill to such a little project. For example, there were no dressing rooms. The only trailer on the entire production was for the wardrobe department and their bazillion costumes. We shot digitally on location in New York for twenty-five days and then headed back to LA and buried ourselves in the edit room to have it ready for Sundance. Which we did, in the nick of time.

The goal, of course, in taking the film to the festival was to bag a big fat distribution deal. Which, after the most amazing Bryan Rabin-produced party at Sundance that people still talk about to this day, seemed entirely possible.

So the next morning we expected to open the trades and read all about our multimillion-dollar distribution deal. These articles are in the press all the time during the festival, breathless accounts of all-night negotiations with Harvey Weinstein and Hollywood heavies battling it out in mountainside condos. But all we found was a decidedly ho-hum review in Variety. Funny thing about bad reviews is that when you get them no one tells you. People call you to get on the guest list, but they don’t call to tell you that you have a crap review. Understandably. But this means you could well be the last to know. As we were.

For months it seemed entirely possible that the movie would skip theatrical distribution and go straight to video. I don’t think we had anticipated that at all. And after all the years of work, that was a bitter pill to swallow.

But it was also a critical point. We had finally made a movie. And deep down there was the expectation that life would now be completely different. As if the clouds would part and we’d be whooshed off to Planet Glamour, where life was lived on the red carpet/pool side/gifting suite, and all our friends would be famous and everyone would want to take our picture all the time.

“Glamor is where you’re not,” Ru once pointed out. So true.

It didn’t turn out as planned, but it did turn out as panned. And that’s a good thing. Because life is much more fun when you are just living it rather than hurrying through it to get somewhere else. We thought we had to get to Glamourville. But there’s no place like home.

So although Steven Spielberg did not call, Marcus Hu and Jon Gerrans from Strand Releasing did. They gave the film a spirited release, and we got to go to Tokyo, Berlin, London, and New York. It was all wildly overstimulating, especially since everyone seemed to assume that making a film called Party Monster meant you were one yourself. By the time we reached the Edinburgh Film Festival, we were propping our eyes open with cocktail sticks.

And the party monster himself?

We have stayed in touch over the years. We have never sugar-coated or excused what he did.

One day soon he will emerge, blinking, into a world of apps and iPads, Mob Wives and Kardashians. Very much the ultracrass teletransformed society he anticipated at Club USA in the ’90s. He should feel right at home. In fact, the other day on the phone he said he wanted to produce reality shows.

But we want to give James St James the last word. After Disco Bloodbath he has written two more books, Freak Show (that can only have inspired Britney Spears’ classic hit) and the yet-unpublished Killer Grandpa, blowing the lid off his family’s secret about one of the last lynchings in the US. He also works as co-editor of the WOW Report blog and hosts Daily Freak Show. Recently, on the red carpet at Sundance, he interviewed Rosie O’Donnell. They were talking about Party Monster and James said, “That’s me, I am the original.” Rosie blinked and blanched. “You’re the killer?” She said, aghast. You can see how James got himself out of that one on YouTube.

The post The History of Party Monster appeared first on World of Wonder.

For the last commuter rail bar car in the US, it’s the end of the line. Last night, the 7:34 train left from Grand Central Station to New Haven – that bar car’s final ride. The cars, which have dwindled to one or two a day at most, are now gone, as the rail line continues its switch from the old M2 cars to new M8s. Built by Kawasaki Rail Car of Japan, the new cars were designed without bar cars – and they can’t be connected to the old coaches. So, no more bar car, kids. Don Draper & Sons, goodnight.

The post It’s BYOB: The Bar Car Is No More appeared first on World of Wonder.

A Swiss museum in Bern, Switzerland was shocked to learn this week that the son of a Nazi-era art dealer had left it a disputed hoard of priceless paintings – many have thought to have been plundered from Jews. Just one day after the death of Cornelius Gurlitt, at age 81, his lawyer told the Museum of Fine Arts in Bern that it was the sole heir of the German’s spectacular collection. The museum already boasts a valuable collection of modern masters including works by Picasso and Paul Klee, but if these works go on display there, this collection puts them on the art world map in a big way. As you may have read or seen on 60 Minutes recently, Gurlitt had hidden this remarkable trove of 1,280 artworks, seized in 2012, in his apartment in Munich for decades. They are worth many hundreds of millions of dollars, possibly a billion, including lost masterpieces by Picasso, Matisse and Chagall. The old nut never married and had no children, calling his art the love of his life. Just last month, Gurlitt had struck an accord with the German government to permit research to track down the rightful owners of pieces, including Jews whose property was stolen or extorted under the Third Reich. Independent experts estimate that around 450 of the works are so-called Nazi-looted art. More than 200 other paintings, sketches and sculptures were also discovered in February this year in a separate home of Gurlitt’s in Salzburg, Austria which include works by Monet, Manet, Cezanne and Gauguin. Gurlitt’s art dealer father, Hildebrand, acquired most of the paintings in the 1930s and 1940s, when he was tasked by the Nazis with selling works taken from Jewish families and avant-garde art seized from German museums that the Hitler regime deemed “degenerate.” This story is likely to continue for years but if it has many more twists, it rivals The Monuments Men, George Clooney’s film about looted Nazi art, now on iTunes, btw. (via Auction Central News)

The “Degenerate Art” exhibit toured the country and was seen by hundreds of thousands of Germans

A stolen PIcasso

Cornelius Gurlitt out in Munich

Gurlitt’s house in Salzburg, Austria and his apartment in Munich held 1500 paintings and drawings

The post Art Treasures: Swiss Museum Willed Nazi Art Trove appeared first on World of Wonder.

Pablo Picasso, Le Sauvetage, 1932, $31,525,000

Well, it’s not ALL about $$ in the art world all the time but it sure seems like it this time of year, during the big Spring auctions. At Sotheby’s Impressionist and Modern Art sale this week, Picasso’s “Le Sauvetage” sold for $31,525,000 and Monet’s really spectacular painting of the Japanese footbridge in his Giverny garden went for $15,845,000. While Christie’s Evening Sale of Impressionist and Modern Art on Tuesday, May 6, took in $285,879,000. The sale was led by works from two legendary private collections, Edgar Bronfman the Seagram’s mogul and Hugette Clark, the Manhattan famous recluse who died at 100+ last year. Just keeping you up date… (via Chistie’s and Sotheby’s)

Claude Monet, Le Pont Japonais, sold for $15,845,000

The post Art Auctions: Christie’s & Sotheby’s Make Big Bank appeared first on World of Wonder.

Barney as a J. Crew model in the 80s; with Aimee Mullins in Cremaster

The post Art Transformations: Matthew Barney’s Cremaster Cycle In London appeared first on World of Wonder.

Here’s what you missed this week on WOWPresents! Get all caught up before this week’s new episodes!

Guuuuuuurl, you’ve got some marathon watching to do. Happy Saturday!

And DON’T forget to subscribe to WOWPresents!

The post Watch Now: WOWPresents Weekly Video Recap appeared first on World of Wonder.

Come celebrate the grand opening of the RuPop Up Shop at Sweet! Hollywood! RuPaul chocolate bars, Glamazon perfume, and more on sale. As well as legendary RuPaul gowns on display! PLUS YOU can meet RuPaul in Person! Click over for more info!

Saturday, May 10th from 1-3PM @ Sweet! Hollywood (6801 Hollywood Blvd,#201 LA, CA 90028)

The post RuPop Up Shop Grand Opening at Sweet! Hollywood THIS SATURDAY appeared first on World of Wonder.

RuPaul kicked off his #RuPopUpShop at Sweet! in the Hollywood and Highland complex today in grand style! RuPaul was there to sign hard to find RuPaul dolls, out of print books, Glamazon fragrance, and candy bars! Swing by Sweet! in Hollywood to pick up your RuPaul goodies! And don’t forget to tune in to RuPaul’s Drag Race: Reunited on Monday, May 19 at 10PM on Logo TV!

The post RuPaul’s Pop Up Shop at Sweet! in Hollywood appeared first on World of Wonder.

Cory Monteith
David Gest
Frances Fisher
Holly Valance
James Haven
Jeffrey Donovan
Jonathan Jackson
Laetitia Casta
Martha Quinn
Matt Giraud
Nicky Katt
Peter North
Shohreh Aghdashloo
Tim Blake Nelson

The post It’s Birthday, Bitch appeared first on World of Wonder.

We know you don’t have time to read every article, every think piece, and every blog post people send your way. That’s why we’re offering up the Sunday morning Longer Reads section. Here’s your chance to catch up on some of more interesting news items you might have missed.

Isn’t it ironic? We were all wrong to sneer at Alanis Morrissette in 1996. Turns out she actually DID understand irony, and Salon explains why.

The Daily Mail has a piece on the Chinese performance artist who had a rib removed onstage without anesthesia, then made a faaaaaabulous necklace out of it.

The Daily Beast asserts that Hilary is going to run without any challengers for the Democratic nomination.

Tina Brown pontificates on how Monica Lewinsky changed the media and “midwifed modern culture.”

Vanity Fair reports that the Queen is backing out of royal obligations due to “heavy garments.” Oh dear. It’s the beginning of the end, isn’t it?

A fascinating review in the New York Times of the Charles James exhibit at the Metropolitan Costume Institute.

In praise of Courtney Love via i-D magazine.

HuffPo explains how #hashtags became the raised fist of punctuation.

For the love of being liked: The New York Times thinks you and your desperate, approval-seeking tweets are pathetic.

The Daily Mail profiles Irene Triplet, the 84-year-old woman who is the only person still getting benefits from a civil war veteran (her father). Not as sweet and uplifting a story as you might expect.

And the different faces of Godzilla through the years.

PREVIOUSLY:

Death & Taxes has the story (and pictures) of the dead New Orleans socialite dressed in a pink feather boa, with a cigarette and champagne flute, propped up on a bench during her wake, overlooking the festivities. So punk rock.

Speaking of punk rock: Dangerous Minds has a report on why transgender punk pioneer Jayne County was banned from Facebook.

VICE has an A-Z Guide to Pizza that’s worth your time.

Salon, God bless ‘em, goes undercover to discover why having sex in a reststop men’s room is so much fun.

And for the ladies: My Boobs, My Burden.

Vulture has eight up-and-comers to watch this summer movie season. All you need to know is two words: BRENTON THWAITS! BRENTON THWAITS! BRENTON THWAITS! OMGOMGOMG.

From New York magazine: Why you need to deep-clean your Facebook account NOW.

Be Aware: Brunei has begun phasing in antigay law and will soon allow Death by Stoning. Read more in The Advocate.

The New York Times has advice on how to calculate the division of rent among roommates when rooms are of different sizes, have different amounts of closet space, or get varying degrees of light. It’s called Sperner’s lemma, and you’ll never, ever, ever understand it. Just split three ways and agree to pay the light bill for the one in the little room.

What does Joyce Carol Oates think of Twitter’s “lynch mob mentality”? Find out here!

In Slate: Linguistics professors look into the science of beatboxing.

After last week’s skin-crawling lethal injection disaster, The Daily Beast has an article about botched executions. Just ugh.

And finally, did you know that Will & Grace‘s first audience didn’t realize it was about a gay man? Queerty has a great quote from Debra Messing about that.

PREVIOUSLY: 

Vulture argues: At this point George W Bush is actually a better artist than James Franco.

Vulture also has a fun interview with Neil Patrick Harris about Hedwig, dressing rooms, and how he gets all that glitter off every night.

BuzzFeed goes deep inside Bryan Singer’s wild Hollywood world of upwardly mobile twinks and the men who prey on them, oh my!

Vaguely related: Meet the Hollywood screenwriter by day, go-go dancer by night, Jeff Tetreault, who tells New York magazine he’s having “an awesome dick day.”

The Daily Mail uncovers why the British are such fashion victims. HA! Also how trends are interpreted by the various classes, which is something the British have always obsessed about.

30 internet famous people YOU NEED TO KNOW.

And a poignant interview with a formerly famous internet star.

Simon Doonan just wants everybody on TV to PUT THEIR DAMN CLOTHES ON.

To celebrate Shakespeare’s 450th birthday this week, Harper’s Bazaar has listed the best fashions from our favorite Shakespeare films.

Frazier Glenn Miller, the former KKK leader and anti-Semitic murderer, was once arrested with a black, cross-dressing hooker. The Daily Beast says that according to psychology and history, it’s not that surprising.

Slate has the poignant story of a daughter and the gay father she never knew.

Why Joan Rivers, Madonna, and, um, “OTHER CELEBRITIES” don’t owe you an apology, in Salon.

and The New York Times listens in as Liz Smith and Jess Cagel  (of People and Entertainment Weekly) dish on just about everyone from Jackie O to Kim K.

PREVIOUSLY:

David Foster Wallace long ago warned that irony is ruining our culture. Salon thinks we ought to have listened.

Dame magazine reports that trans semantics is causing an uproar within the community, but is language REALLY the issue here?

Slate explores the science behind Transcendence. So… when will be able to upload Johnny Depp’s brain? And, more importantly, why would we want to?

After James Franco called the New York Times theater critic “a little bitch” on Instagram for giving his performance in Of Mice & Men a bad review, The Guardian says we have now entered into a new age of counter-criticism.

The Daily Beast tallies up every woman Don Draper has ever slept with.

And Vulture asks a serial killer expert to analyze every episode of Mad Men for links to the Manson Family murders (because OBVIOUSLY Megan is about to be killed by them).

Alice Hoffman has some… um… out-of-the-box suggestions for getting you started on that novel you’ve been meaning to write.

Newsweek reports on how Laverne Cox transformed the audience at the GLAAD Awards.

New York magazine announces that we have reached “Peak Beard Saturation” and has the scientific proof the trend is is OVER.

A lengthy piece on Cartoon Network’s iconic Adventure Time declares it is a “deeply serious work of moral philosophy, a rip-roaring comic masterpiece, and a meditation on gender politics and love in the modern world. It is rich with moments of tenderness and confusion, and real terror and grief even; moments sometimes more resonant and elementally powerful than you experience in a good novel.” And I thought it was just fun to watch in a k-hole.

The New York Times obituary for Gabriel Garcia Marquez, and over at Slate: What he meant to the people of Colombia (and why we can never TRULY get his novels).

Also in the Times: The complicated life of one of Philip Seymour Hoffman’s heroin connections.

Salon exposes Leonardo DiCaprio’s DARKEST SECRET: He’s actually deeply uncool.

Newsweek has earthshattering nerd news: Dick Grayson ISN’T DEAD after all! The former Robin-turned-Nightwing-turned-Batman (for a period) has gone deeeeep undercover and become… a secret agent? Yep, he’s basically Archer now. Greeeeeat move, DC.

Oh My Gah. Going braless is SO NORMCORE.

And finally, a rather salacious article in The Daily Beast goes inside Bryan Singer’s infamous twink pool parties. I saved it for last because you’re going to need a Silkwood shower after reading it.

PREVIOUSLY:

OMGOMGOMG! An interview with Brienne of Tarth! An interview with Brienne of Tarth! Game of Thrones star Gwendolyn Christie talks to IGN on the new challenges her character faces now that her quest with Janie Lannister has ended.

Have you heard about the cherry tree that was raised on the space station and stunned scientists by blooming six years earlier than it would on earth? Read about the far-reaching implications of that in the Daily Mail.

From Dior’s New Look to Bianca Jagger’s birthday party at Studio 54, Harper’s Bazaar has the most iconic moments in fashion history.

The Geldofs were Britain’s first celebrity family, long before the Osbournes and the Beckhams. The death of Peaches is the latest cruel twist in a tragedy the nation has watched unfold for decades. The Guardian tells the tale of one family’s epic suffering for Americans who don’t understand the fuss.

Mickey Rooney gave his life to show biz, the least you can do is read his obit in the Florida Sun Sentinal.

The Daily Beast implores you: For God’s sakes, don’t remember Barbara Walters for The View.

OMGOMGOMG! You MUST READ this investigative report about why people loathe “upworthy” headlines. IT WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE!

From Brandon Teena in Boys Don’t Cry to Swan in The Warriors – Dazed Digital ranks the most rebellious screen icons of all time

Salon debunks the myths of Alcoholics Anonymous.

Slate has some data on how Hilary could make a difference.

PREVIOUSLY:

In boingboing: Filmmaker, writer, and trans activist Andrea James writes about LGBT reactionaries throwing drag queens under the bus for “transphobic language” and the growing rift between the drag, gay, and trans communities.

Trans icon Calpernia Addams passionately sounds off on the same subject in the Huffington Post.

In The Atlantic: Scientists create Mars-like community in Hawaii to see if astronauts will get SPACE MADNESS when we begin colonizing it in the ’30s.

A fascinating tribute to the lasting legacy of DJ Frankie Knuckles, the Godfather of House music in The LA Times.

Moby reminisces about Klaus Nomi, the ’80s club scene, and the ’90s rave drugs in Vulture.

Just how risky is oral sex? Find out here. (The answer might surprise you)

The Daily Star says the comedian Jonathan Ross is starting his hunt for Britain’s Next Drag Superstar…

Noah is just the latest film to earn the wrath of the Christian right. Read about five other blasphemous movies in Salon.

Then read: The 10 Weirdest Things the Christian Right Thinks Will Turn Your Kids Gay.

From Slate‘s advice column: “Dear Prudence: My twin brother had a one-night stand with a girl, gave her my name and number as joke, then she and I started dating. We’re engaged now, should I tell her the truth?”

Gen X catastrophe in the making: How the coming inheritance boom is going to DESTROY THE NATION.

Slate asks: How do we instill journalistic ethics into our robot reporters?

The New York Times decrees that mankind is inherently spiteful, but you know what? That’s a GOOD thing!

A fun Q & A with Cyndi Lauper in The Guardian.

BBC News: A French couple has gathered a thousand on-line fan tributes to Pharrell’s “Happy”

So the Black Death wasn’t really the Bubonic plague after all? Read the new theories in Slate.

Swoonworthy rates the top ten hunks of Game of Thrones. (Grey Worm should have scored higher, just sayin’)

PREVIOUSLY:

Always tackling the most important stories of the day, HuffPo has 19 Very Real Struggles of Women with Big Butts.

The much buzzed-about New York Post article: “L’Wren Scott’s Suicide Reveals Tragic Side of City’s Glitzy Scene.”

Slate uses music theory to explain the  genius of Daft Punk’s “Get Lucky” (Maybe next year they’ll tackle why “Happy” is so goddamn annoying).

Nile Rogers writes about Studio 54, Grace Jones, and the Disco backlash in New York magazine.

From Salon: Why Entertainment Weekly‘s decision to start paying writers with “prestige” rather than, you know, actual money is terrible for both writers and readers (and does not bode well for the future of pop culture).

Also in Salon: Why Gwyneth Paltrow’s utterly obnoxious “conscious uncoupling” letter proves she’s the last, great star, “worthy of the legacy of Bette Davis and Joan Crawford.”

Mental Floss investigates: Is the Five-Second Rule real?

The New York Times says millennials in the work place are shallow, callow, unmotivated, and undependable… just like every generation since the middle ages.

Also in the Times: Exploring the Salton Sea, the Sunken City and other modern ruins of Southern California.

Lead singer of cult metal band GWAR David Brockie aka Oderus Urungus found dead at 50. Read about it in Rolling Stone and Daily Mail.

PREVIOUSLY:

Nickelback, Smash Mouth, Goo Goo Dolls: Salon has the 15 most hated bands of the last 30 years. (But no fun.?  No Mumford & Sons? I demand a recount!)

The must-have coffee table book of 2014 about the mob hit men of Murder Inc. will cost you exactly $4,200. But YOWZA, what a book! Read about it in the New York Times.

Washington Post has a fascinating obituary of the villanous Westboro Baptist Church founder Fred Phelps.

And HuffPo has the LGBT reaction to his death.

Arkansas school doubles down on decision to ban gay student’s coming out story in yearbook.

For all you hardcore Benson fans out there (you know who you are), Salon  has the answer to how the series was supposed to end.

For when you absolutely need purple pleather harem pants on the run: Fashion trucks are about to become ALL THE RAGE.

Coming soon to the Great White Way: James Franco and Chris O’Dowdare reimagine Of Mice & Men as a bromantic comedy

Absolutely riveting video (if you’re into this sort of thing): Alexander Wang, Prabal Garung and Eddie Borgo analyze the concept of style at the SCADstyle 2014 conference. At Style.com

Liza Minnelli talks to the LA Times about Ellen, that blue streak, and her new show.

Why Ruth Bader Ginsburg must NEVER EVER retire from the Supreme Court in Slate.

Of Hippos and Kings: Archeologist and anthropologist Eric H Cline has a new book called 1177 B.C.: The Year Civilization Collapsed, and it sounds remarkably like today.. Read the review in the New Yorker.

PREVIOUSLY

Air & Space magazine magazine has a fascinating article about a 727 airline that vanished from Angola in 2003.

Daily Mail claims that the pilot of missing Flight MH370 was a political fanatic. This comes as police are investigating the possibility that he hijacked his own aircraft in a bizarre political protest.

OK, so we all think Flight 727 was hijacked, but just in case that gets disproven, New York magazine has other theories ranging from mechanical failure to alien abduction.

Kitty Genovese, whose 1964 rape and murder was witnessed by 37 bystanders who DID NOTHING,  became a symbol about the unravelling of society, racial fears,  and the lack of care exhibited by city dwellers for their neighbors. Now Off the Grid reports that Kitty was a lesbian. Did that have something to do with her neighbors’ responses (or lack thereof)?

The New York Times writes about the growing transgender presence in pop culture, talking to icons-in-the-making Laverne Cox, Janet Mock and wowlebrity Zachary Drucker.

Has the tv-star-to-movie-star career trajectory become outmoded? Vulture thinks so.

Why Mel Gibson deserves a second chance: Deadline pleads his case.

Salon has an expose on how to behave at an orgy.

10 famous geniuses and their drugs of choice, also at Salon.

One man’s mission to name an island after Busta Rhymes in Slate.

LAST WEEK’S LONGER READS:

What the hell happend to Jay McInerney? Slate examines the ’80s literary superstar’s unrealized potential.

Finally, someone details the difference between Death Metal and Black Metal.

The Independent examines the culture of rape in men’s prisons.

Semen allergies, broken penises, and spontaneous orgasms: Salon has six weird consequences of sex they don’t teach you in sex ed.

The New York Times Style section has a breathless investigation into the return of the monocle as the fashion accessory du jour for hipsters.

Slate has a bit of fun with Beyond the Monocle: Five Ideas for Future New York Times Hipster Trend Pieces including ruffs, powdered wigs, and plague doctor masks. Which, of course, I was wearing before they were cool.

The Guardian has grim news for authors: Not even award-winning best-selling authors are making money in publishing anymore.

Nightclubbing 101: An oral history of New York’s Pyramid Club as told by the trailblazing drag queens and performance artists who performed there.

Is belly dancing racist? Salon decrees it so.

The New Yorker has a humorous piece about 59-year-olds who look down their noses on 56-year-olds. Insolent pups!

PREVIOUS LONGER READS:

Sunday, March 2, 2014:

The inimitable Cindy Adams predicts tonight’s Oscars, as only Cindy can.

Who thanks who at the Oscars (No surprise: Meryl gets thanked more than God)

The Guardian has a piece imploring Academy voters not to give the Oscar to the documentary The Act of Killing  (in which Indonesia’s political mass-murderers restage their slaughters).

The brilliant Douglas Rushkoff writes in Politico: “How Technology Killed the Future”

Slate has the 19 most common questions a trans person is asked.

The Atlantic has a fascinating interview with trans activist and memoirist Janet Mock.

New York magazine asserts the latest sartorial rage among hipsters is Normcore: the dad-brand non-style you might have once associated with Jerry Seinfeld.

Riveting stuff: Furniture shopping habits of the rich and famous at Salon.

Gawker profiles the adorable 101-year-old man who’s running for Congress, and really ought to win.

Fascinating article in The Economist about the controversial heroin treatment used in Switzerland and the Netherlands which sets up safe sites where users can inject while monitored by health-care staff and – in some cases – provides heroin itself free.

An investigation at Slate into the impenetrable time signature of The Terminator‘s musical score. Honestly, I wouldn’t mention it if I didn’t think it was REALLY INTERESTING.

W has a piece on venerable downtown fashion designer Andre Walker’s comeback. I still kick myself EVERY DAY for not buying some of those cookie-cutter outfits back in 1985 when I had the chance. STUPID JAMES!

The New Yorker translates what Ted Nugent was really trying to say when he called President Obama a “subhuman mongrel.”

Slate covers an exhibit at the National Museum of  Australia showcasing convict love tokens – coins that had been smoothed over and then engraved with messages that prisoners gave to their sweethearts before leaving for penal colonies in Australia in the 18th and 19th century.

And finally, the Daily Beast has an update on Michael Alig and his post-prison plans.

The post It’s the WOW Report Longer Reads! appeared first on World of Wonder.

May I call you Jiggly? Yes, you may.  Jiggly Caliente from RuPaul’s Drag Race is on this episode of Ring My Bell! Watch now!

Call Jiggly Caliente at (323) 319-4777 or you can call them at wowpresents on Skype (SET UP YOUR SKYPE ACCOUNT NOW), and make those connections, guuuuuuurl! (Only your voice will be recorded.) If the phone keeps ringing, don’t get impatient just wait and we’ll try our hardest to connect your call!

The post Watch Now: Jiggly Caliente on Ring My Bell appeared first on World of Wonder.

I wrote this for a magazine but it was deemed too anti-business (and this was me trying to be PRO-business, so I guess that says something about my biases). Still, I think communicating the truth to people ultimately shows *more* faith in them than lying or pandering

At the White House Correspondents Dinner – the annual opportunity for the President to engage directly, and humorously, with reporters who cover him – I expect most of the gibes to be at the President. Sure, he gets the chance to defend himself, but it’s pretty much a roast: a leading comedian is invited every year to make jokes, while the Commander in Chief tries to laugh instead of squirm.

Maybe that’s why I was so jolted when this year’s headliner, comedian Joel McHale of TV’s The Soup, took such a hard swipe at Google. “America still has amazing technological innovations. Google Glass has hit the markets. Now, just by walking down the street, we’ll know exactly who to punch in the face.” It got a pretty good laugh – perhaps because both the press and the politicians in the room were relieved to have been spared for at least one joke. But the violence of the imagery, and the intensity of the rage that it expressed, gave me serious pause: are we in the midst of a new kind of tech industry backlash? And is it for something these companies are actually doing, or have the simply lost control of the technology story?

This is more than the traditional sort of commentary and critique of digital media and culture that we’ve seen waged against everything from television advertising or fashion iconography in the past. When the artists called Like4Real rebel against the ubiquity of the Facebook “Like” by holding a funeral for the thumbs-up symbol, it comments effectively, if acerbically, on the changing nature of social relationships in a commercial space. Meanwhile, artists from KillYourPhone.com are encouraging people to make special pouches for cell phones and PDA’s, which prevent them from receiving signals. Again – agree with them or not about the need for an occasional digital detox – it’s clever, provocative, and memorable satire.

But the notion, even expressed jokingly, of punching people in the face for wearing Google Glass – as if the device somehow signals a traitor to the cause of humanity – pushes things over the top. Yes, we can all imagine how people wearing an augmented reality device might be annoying: they can surf the web while pretending to converse with us or, worse, record us when we don’t know it. But it’s as if the public is now being primed to go after early adopters – almost to a point where one might be reluctant to put on the device.

Are technology companies such as Google shouldering the blame for too much? It seems as if they are bearing responsibility not only for people’s fears about the future of technology, but the excesses of corporate capitalism.

Consider the hullabaloo now centered on the buses that convey Google employees from San Francisco to Silicon Valley. This winter, protestors waylaid one of the Google shuttles, going so far as to hurl a brick through one of its windows in protest of what they see as the tech giant’s gentrifying influence on the city. When San Francisco introduced the new Muni 83x bus line, locals were quick to point out that its sparsely-utilized buses run suspiciously close to Twitter headquarters. More protests, and more vitriol ensued.

Of course, in reality, Google’s buses spare the highway a whole lot of traffic, and the atmosphere from countless tons of carbon emissions from what would otherwise be an extra few thousand cars on the highways every day. And suspicions about local government adding commuter lines to accommodate Twitter appear to be unfounded.

The deeper angst in San Francisco appears to be over the way each new tech IPO creates another few thousand millionaires who want to buy apartments, jacking up the real estate prices for everyone else. And, like all corporations, Silicon Valley giants externalize the costs of private enterprise on public infrastructure. But even this local economics issue seems unlikely to be motivating such widespread disdain for tech business. Besides, there are a number of corporations with much worse records of displacing residents or hurting local business than the new tech giants.

No, I think the reason these young corporations are getting so much pushback is that they were once seen as the upstarts – as the companies on the people’s side of things. Digital technology was supposed to disrupt business as usual, create new opportunities for both self-expression and small business, and – perhaps most of all – change the very nature of the corporation and its relationship to real people and places. They’re being held to a higher standard than companies of previous generations.

Now that these little garage businesses are some of the biggest companies in the world, it’s a whole lot harder for them to exhibit the qualities that once made them the darlings of the culture and counterculture alike. Yes, digital companies are being held to a higher standard than companies of previous generations. But this is largely because we all understand that they are building the infrastructure in which our economics, culture, and perhaps even a whole lot of human consciousness is going to take place.

That’s why they have to pay more attention to communicating their intentions than might otherwise seem justified. Steve Jobs was famous for keeping great secrets, but Apple is largely a consumer electronics firm. We like being surprised about the features on our next phone. A company like Google can’t be as secretive when they purchase a military robotics firm. Without clear messaging about the reasons for such acquisitions, the public mind reels, particularly in the wake of NSA disclosures, jobs lost to automation, and movies from Her to Transcendence.

Instead of balking at our widespread suspicions, the leaders of Silicon Valley must begin communicating honestly and effectively about what they hope and dream for. If people are scared of Google’s Glass, of Facebook’s purchase of a virtual reality company, or of Twitter’s use of big data, then it’s up to those companies to explain loud and clear how these developments will serve us all. Unless, of course, they don’t.

For once, protecting strategy secrets has to take a back seat to clear communications. If these companies really are building the world we’re all going to be living in, they have to let us in on their plans. Otherwise, we’re going to feel like we’ve been left off the bus.

The post A Special Longer Read appeared first on World of Wonder.

Watch RuPaul’s Drag Race: Reunited Monday, May 19 at 10PM on LOGOTV! But until then, get exclusive behind the scenes video content from RuPaul’s Drag Race: Reunited season six! On this episode of our countdown to the crown, take a peek behind to curtain to see how season 5 winner Jinkx Monsoon spends time before the main event. Check back everyday until May 19th for RuPaul’s Drag Race: 12 Days of Crowning webseries from WOWpresents on Youtube!

Previous Episodes

On this episode of our countdown to the crown, take a peek behind to curtain to see how the Scruffy Pit Crew boys are prepping for the main event. Check back everyday until May 19th for RuPaul’s Drag Race: 12 Days of Crowning webseries from WOWpresents on Youtube!

All the behind-the-scenes magic you can handle! Remember to tune in and watch RuPaul’s Drag Race: Reunited Monday, May 19th at 10pM only on LogoTV!

On this episode of our countdown to the crown, Adam Asea and Blake Jacobs are on location at The Theater at the ACE where RuPaul’s Drag Race: Reunited season six took place! They show you everything from the queens dressing room, to the stage where the queens are rehearsing the opening number!

On this first episode of our RuPaul’s Drag Race Reunited: 12 Days of Crowning, we take you on the red carpet!

The post Watch Now: RuPaul’s Drag Race Reunited Countdown to the Crown – Jinkx Monsoon appeared first on World of Wonder.

Last Thursday was an NYC epic moment. Our own James St. James popped into the über fey NYC party My Chiffon Is Wet, now hosted by Alan Cumming and moi (DJ Paisley Dalton). Naturally, all the current top clublife kiddies were out in full effects, including Sloan Mandell and DJ William Francis (House of O), Ruby Roo, Leo Gugu, Gerry Visco (Interview Magazine), Elizabeth James and more! Check out the recent feature in Huffington Post:

Tony Award-winning actor Alan Cumming has a brand new nightlife gig, which should give New Yorkers more than enough incentive to make it out on Thursday nights and brave the Friday hangover.

Starting May 1, Cumming will join DJ Paisley Dalton, Leo Gugu, Ruby Roo and photographer Brett Lindell for the senior and final year of “My Chiffon Is Wet,” a staple on Thursdays in Manhattan nightlife. “My Chiffon Is Wet” draws in queers from every part of New York, with the party having previously won “Best Event To Leave Brooklyn For” at the 2014 Brooklyn Nightlife Awards.

“’My Chiffon is Wet’ is what I think people mean when they talk about the good old days of New York,” Cumming said in a statement. “People of all ages and sexualities and genders are dancing and dressing up and performing and talking and having fun. And everyone is kind. It doesn’t get much better than this!”

Former guests and hosts at “My Chiffon Is Wet” include David LaChapelle, Michael Musto, Zachary Quinto, Jinx Monsoon, Sharon Needles, Andy Cohen, Michael Cunningham, Cazwell, Amanda Lepore, Dita Von Teese, Patricia Field and Nomi Ruiz — just to name a few. The rage is every Thursday at 10 p.m. at New York’s Eastern Bloc.

The post James St. James & Alan Cumming at “My Chiffon Is Wet” Party NYC appeared first on World of Wonder.

Shangela, Victoria “Porkchop” Parker, Morgan McMichaels, and Sonique along with Miss USofA ShaeShae LaReese will all be appearing on tonight’s episode of Bones on Fox at 8PM! So tune in to Bones before watching RuPaul’s Drag Race at 10PM on Logo!

The post Shangela, Victoria “Porkchop” Parker, Morgan McMichaels and Sonique on Tonight’s Episode of Bones appeared first on World of Wonder.

Step 1: Take your sabre… You do have sabre lying around don’t you? Alton Brown shows you the way Napoleon’s cavalry officers would theatrically lop the top off champagne bottles using their swords. It’s a kick-ass move guaranteed to get you laid at any party.

(via the DW)

The post How to Open Your Champagne Bottle Like a Boss appeared first on World of Wonder.

…but being a Pescetarian, I’ll never know. Still, it seems like a bargain at twice the price. (T/Y Paula)

The post I’ll Bet Conchita Wurst Is Delicious… appeared first on World of Wonder.

The poster for the Life Ball 2014 has been unveiled, and it’s a doozy. In it, gorgeous wowlebrity Carmen Carrera is photographed nude by David LaChapelle in Hieronymus Bosch‘s garden with both male and female genitals.

“Gender lines are blurred and every person is unique in how they see themselves. For me the body is more than something to be looked at as an object of sexual gratification. The body is a beautiful housing for the soul that we are celebrating in this picture”, David LaChapelle explains.

The claim of the artwork reads “I’M ADAM – I’M EVE – I’M ME” – words that Carmen Carrera identifies with: “Your gender should not matter in your heart or in the way you express your personality. We shouldn’t be afraid to stick to a model, because there are so many types of diverse people on this planet. My message is: beauty has no gender. At the end of the day beauty is beauty”, she says.

Check out the uncensored versions at LifeBall.org. And be sure to click to enlarge. It deserves to be seen in Hi-Rez.

The pioneering AIDS charity event will take place on May 31 at City Hall Square in Vienna, Austria.

The post NSFW: Carmen Carrera’s Super-Shocking, Super-Gorgeous Life Ball Poster by David LaChapelle. appeared first on World of Wonder.