In a recent harangue to the New York Post, Vincent Gallo, perhaps best known for wishing cancer on Roger Ebert and having that wish granted, raged at length about Post critic Frank Scheck's assertion that the infamous oral sex scene from Gallo's 2003 effort, The Brown Bunny, might have been performed with a prosthetic penis. Speak on it, brother!

"Tell that hack to convince his mother, sister or wife to let me give it to her . . . and then she can report back to little Frank if she thought [it was fake]," Gallo raged to Page Six.

And then it gets oddly explanatory:

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Of course, not everyone has the luxury of being able to step over Fashion Week as if it were an errant mess on a city sidewalk. Occasionally, notable people are present for – and even active participants in – the clamorous, glamorous hubbub. To these precious few (or is it gullible many) we briefly offer our attention and pity.

A creep, a newly single father and a gay rock icon walk into a fashion show…

More of this joke after the jump.

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Day one was a bit of a scorcher, pushing triple digit temperatures by about noon.

I did all the hot work so that you can check it out from the comfort of your desk.

Stay cool while I sweat, after the jump.

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The Los Angeles Times website is presenting a feature called "Casting for Killers," in which they've done some mock castings for American history's most notorious murderers.

Most are chillingly spot on, like the Dahmer/Seacrest connection that's going to make me wince at that joker's mug even more now. The Gallo/Manson one is also fairly obvious.

They aren't all uncanny, though, and the most uninspired mock-up is Jim Belushi as Berkowitz. Clearly the editors were just grasping at straws with that one; knowing that they had to include Son of Sam, while also faced with the fact that people who look like David Berkowitz don't become movie stars.

Instead of Belushi it should have been that Cobrasnake clown.

See it? Fuck. Actually, someone better check that guy's cell at Attica.

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If I don't have anything nice to say, I probably shouldn't say anything at all. So I suppose it would be best to keep quiet about these photos of Chloe Sevigny in Cannes. Actually I have lots of nice things to say. Individually all of her parts are doing well. Her hair is okay. Her face looks tan and beautiful. Her shirt is, well, pretty horrible, but can be overlooked. Her skirt is cute. Her shoes are whatever.

Somehow when it all comes together, though, something goes horribly awry. The whole package just isn't sitting well. The camera angle isn’t doing her any favors, either. Very few people can pull of lighter hair than they have skin; apparently Chloe Sevigny isn't one of them.

She and Jenna Malone are promoting their upcoming film Lying, which sounds interesting, but I’m not sure I have it in me to look at Chloe for long periods of time anymore.

I’d like to think that this new distaste for Ms. Sevigny has nothing to do with Vincent Gallo’s genitalia, but just thinking about her interaction with said genitals has me feeling a bit queasy. To make matters worse, she is totally giving me the eye in that picture. Great, now I’m going to start having the nightmares again.

[Source]