That’s a lot of tom.

MIAMI (Reuters) – The sex scandal that engulfed Tiger Woods may have cost shareholders of companies endorsed by the world’s No. 1 golfer up to $12 billion in losses, according to a study by two economics professors from the University of California, Davis.

Boy. So Tiger has actually fucked way more people than we could ever have guessed. Sneaky bastard.

The study looked at sponsors of Tiger Woods for which stock prices were available, in several cases through quoted prices for the parent companies. Sponsors included: Accenture; AT&T; Tiger Woods PGA Tour Golf (Electronic Arts); Gillette (Proctor and Gamble); Nike; Gatorade (PepsiCo); TLC Laser Eye Centers.

You’ve got to give him credit – even when he fucks his life up, he puts in a prize-winning performance. The guy is a born overachiever.

If you don’t have a life, you can read the whole study here.

Hohoho. Everybody’s favourite misogynist and wife-batterer was arrested on Christmas Day following some alleged festive domestic violence…and it has now turned out that a weapon might have been involved. Oooooooh.

The 44-year-old Two and a Half Men star was arrested yesterday morning in Aspen, Colo., and released that night after posting an $8,500 bond.

Aspen Police Department spokeswoman Stephanie Dasaro tells E! News the felony menacing charge Sheen is facing would not go into further detail—for the record, they aren’t naming the victim, either—other than to say the count does involve “a weapon of some sort.”

He spent 8 hours in the holding cells before the coppers let him go.

Other reports are suggesting that his missus (Brooke Mueller) might have been legally trollied, whereas Charlie was not, so it really isn’t quite clear what went down. But, of course, it had to involve the MaSHEEN. Because that’s what he does: kicks ass, takes names…and then prescription pills, and then makes threatening phone calls. And bangs hookers.

Well, at least you can’t fault him for consistency.

[Twilight Zone / UFO noise] WoooHOOOOOOhooooooooooo…

It all came true. Even the freaky beast in the mirror – see husband Simon Monjack with varicose veins.

“Redbox, which operate DVD kiosks around the US, are dispatching teams to remove the Deadline box art from kiosk displays.” – RadarOnline

So here’s my awesome idea. It’s about a movie poster designer who designs posters which turn into real life events. It can star Brittany Murphy - hunched over a table, curled up in a broom closet or passed out in a gutter. Then, after she mysteriously dies in the bath/shower after boat-racing a bucket of Hydrocodone and Fluoxetine, our hero realises that the movie would be much cooler if he just stuck to designing posters of me getting blown by the Victoria’s Secret catalogue. The end. Happily so.

Yowzers. Brittany Murphy died today. That’s a bummer.

Brittany Murphy, the actress who got her start in the sleeper hit “Clueless” and rose to stardom in “8 Mile,” died Sunday in Los Angeles. She was 32.

Murphy was pronounced dead at 10:04 a.m. at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, hospital spokeswoman Sally Stewart said. Stewart would not provide a cause of death or any other information.

Murphy was transported to the hospital after the Los Angeles Fire Department responded to a call at 8 a.m. at the home she shared with her husband, British screenwriter Simon Monjack, in the Hollywood Hills.

Los Angeles police have opened an investigation into Murphy’s death, Officer Norma Eisenman said. Detectives and coroner’s officials were at her Murphy and Monjack’s home Sunday afternoon but did not talk to reporters. Paparazzi were camped outside.

Neighbor Clare Staples said she saw firefighters working to resuscitate the actress Sunday morning. She said Murphy was on a stretcher and “looked as though she was dead at the scene.”

Murphy’s husband, wearing pajama bottoms and no shoes, appeared “dazed” as firefighters tried to save her, Staples said. “It’s just tragic,” she added. (Houston Chronicle)

Well, I’m sure we’ll be hearing a lot more about this one over the next few days.

Very sad. She hadn’t really been in anything for a while, but will appear in Sly Stallone’s epic new action movie “The Expendables” next year. Incidentally, the movie features Sly, Jason Statham, Jet Li, Dolph Lundgren, Bruce Willis, Arnold Schwarzenenenegeggggegeneneer, Mickey Rourke, Stone Cold Steve Austin, Danny Trejo and Eric Roberts. I shit you not one bit. There will be some serious barneys, I’ll bet you that much. Even if it is a totally shitmovie, it will be awesome.

Where were we? Oh, Brittany Murphy. Rest in peace, ok? I always thought you were quite cool.

I despise getting requests for charitable donations, but I’m going to stick my coc neck out here and recommend – nay, demand – that everyone who reads this post immediately:

• joins this Facebook group; and
• purchases a download of Rage Against The Machine’s “Killing In The Name” via one of the online outlets listed below BEFORE midnight on Saturday, 19 December.

Here’s the reason (although you should probably know this already): we need to push “Killing In The Name” to this year’s UK Christmas No. 1 single. If we fail, X-Factor winner Joe McDingleberry will almost certainly take the cake. And probably insert it in his rectum. If not, I will happily oblige.

The Facebook group is a ”stick it to the man” initiative (the personifcation of the man in this instance being Simon Cowell), and has been a viral coup over the past week, boasting over 800,000 members already. It’s not slowing down either. Here’s more:

The campaign was started by Tracy and Jon Morter, who launched the Facebook group “Rage Against the Machine for Christmas No 1″ earlier this month with the words: “Fed up of Simon Cowell’s latest karaoke act being Christmas No 1? Me too … So who’s up for a mass-purchase of the track ‘KILLING IN THE NAME’ from December 13th (DON’T BUY IT YET!) as a protest to the X Factor monotony?”

Cowell isn’t particularly impressed with the whole thing, but I don’t give two shakes of a small willy about any of that. All I care about is getting Rage to number 1 so that we don’t have to tolerate another spam-moulded, vomitous cup of bottomdribble being celebrated across the radio and telly as the pinnacle of musical excellence.

I am thrilled to report that at the last reckoning, Rage were in the lead! Huzzah!

Sadly, the X-Factor single, which has only been available for download until now, hits the high street today. And this poses a serious threat to our dream. Serious like vaginal prolapse, frenular haematoma or having your ballsac pressed through a garlic crusher.  Serious.

But we can beat this. And it will cost us each less than £1 (or about 13 ZARs).

And if you’re umming and aaahing about purchasing a track which you already own or have previously illegally downloaded, chew on this: Rage guitarist Tom Morello (who is stoked with the campaign) has pledged all profits from the re-release of “Killing In The Name” to charity.

So this is now officially a charitable request. At Christmas. When there are lonely people out there. Lonely people, who are starving. Some of whom are ugly and have rotting body bits. Think about the poor lonely, homeless, ugly, rotting people who will not be having turkey this year. Or probably ever. Not to mention sex with anything ever again besides a rusty old can of Koo baked beans. Are you going to invite these guys over for Christmas dinner? I thought not. How about some gentle bergie loving? Perhaps, but probably only on Boxing Day.

You selfish bastards.

Buy “Killing In The Name”. I did, and I don’t intend on actually downloading my purchase, because I already own the cd. I just care about the homeless.

Ok, I don’t care about the homeless (I didn’t even check what charity we’re talking about here), but I do despise the X-Factor, and that’s enough for me.

As promised, you can buy your piece of history here (links as per the Facebook group):

Price Comparison site – http://bit.ly/comparedownloadprices

–Buy 1 for yourself, and maximum another 2 as a ‘gift’ for someone–

iTUNES – 99p – track #2 (click on ‘view in itunes’ on the right)
http://bit.ly/ratm-itunes

PLAY.COM – 65p – it’s the only track on the page
http://bit.ly/ratm-play

7DIGITAL – 50p – track #2
http://bit.ly/rage-7digital

HMV.COM – 79p (careful – this is track #1)
http://bit.ly/ratm-hmv

TUNETRIBE – 49P – track #2 – LIVE version (yes it counts)
http://bit.ly/ratm-tunetribe
or
http://bit.ly/rage-tunetribe (Studio Version)

TESCO DIGITAL – 67p – track #2
http://bit.ly/ratm-tesco

WE7 – £1.07p – track #2
http://bit.ly/ratm-we7

AMAZON ALLEGEDLY IS CHART ELIGIBLE, BUT IM HEARING MANY CONFLICTING STORIES ON THIS. MAYBE PUT THESE ABOVE VENDORS FIRST

Done? Brilliant. Now, final step: rope in as many other awesome dudes as you can and let’s rock the shit out of this Christmas. If we win the battle, we will all get to revel in the sublime knowledge that everywhere around the world on Christmas morning, little children will be stomping their feet around the Christmas tree and screaming “FUCK YOU I WON’T DO WHAT YOU TELL ME!” to their parents.

Fuck, I love Christmas.

I received a rather angry email from Down Under this morning in which some dickhead had a go at me for not having posted in a few weeks. Fair enough, I suppose. So here are some nsfw lesbians in a shower.

The same question has been put to me more than a few times recently, and my official answer has simply been this: I just haven’t had the time. Sadly, not all of us can “live the holiday”. If everyone was “living the holiday”, there would be nobody to pick up my garbage, serve me my morning latte, drive me around on the tube or, indeed, keep the internet up and running so that the rest of us can sit at our kak jobs – adding underappreciated but critically necessary value to society – and follow from our desks the lifelong holidays of the privileged few. Heck, without the rest of us drones to ensure that the economy keeps on trucking, there would be no fucking holiday to live!

Yes, my grapes are ever-so-slightly sour. But I’m not complaining too much. I’m simply explaining my silence. It’s not that I don’t love you, it’s just that I’m a busy guy.

Except for the cockgobbler from Sydney. I really don’t love you.

Hello gang

Sorry I’ve “gone dark” over the past week and a bit, but work has been tearing me a few new ones, and getting stuck over a computer during my extra, extra valuable free time has just seemed wrong. Which means my apology is somewhat qualified, but an apology nevertheless.

Anyway.

I went to see “The Men Who Stare At Goats” tonight. I had really been looking forward to this one – the trailer looked really cool, and the movie has tremendous star pulling power with George Clooney, Jeff Bridges, Kevin Spacey and Ewan McGregor filling the lead roles. I knew that it was based on the “true” story of a 1980’s Pentagon-commissioned elite squad of psychic supersoldiers and featured Jeff Bridges as a uniformed hippie. And let’s face it – psychic supersoliders aside, the spectacle of a peace-lovin’, tripped-out Dude should be enough to jack any shithouse flick into arthouse cinema.

Sadly, the film’s enormous potential fails to translate. Most of the quality comedy appears in the trailer, and the remaining laughs are often melancholic at best. Clooney, Bridges and Spacey are unsurprisingly solid, but McGregor’s journalist-protagonist doesn’t quite connect with the material in the way one would hope, and his godawful Yank accent makes the narration a bit of a chore at times. The plot itself is loose and disjointed, with most of the meaty substance relegated to Clooney’s explanatory flashbacks.

The fact that it is the characters themselves that provide the dramatic impetus does, however, mitigate against the movie’s many other shortcomings. There are some genuinely heartfelt intervals that really do succeed in bringing meaning to some otherwise sad and pathetic lives, and whilst it can hardly be called inspirational, “The Men Who Stare At Goats” does manage to deliver the promise of unlimited destiny to each of us. Even if it is a destiny that, by the film’s own admission, is perhaps only ever appreciated and fulfilled in hindsight.

I’d probably wait for DVD with this one. It would still make a good night in.

Nsfw Lucy Pinder. That’s all I’m going to say.

She has awwwwwwwwwesome boobies.

Ok. I’m done now.

What the fuck is this now!? It seems that there’s a serious senior faction within the Church of England (that’s Anglicans to the rest of us) who are conspiring to hook up again with the Roman Catholic Church – 500 years after the initial split between Pope Clement VII and Henry VIII that ignited a shitfire which has raged ever since. Particularly so in places like Northern Ireland.

This is fucking spectacular! And a big thrust behind the initiaive is tied up with the possible ordination of female Anglican bishops.

Clergy on the “high church” wing of Anglicanism, known for their use of more elaborate ritual in services, are alarmed that the Church of England’s historic role in uniting Catholic and Protestant in the same Church may now be in jeopardy.

Father Geoffrey Kirk, one of the leaders of Forward in Faith, said: “It will be my intention whatever happens to become a Roman Catholic.

“I am close to retirement, and I may well choose to defer my retirement in order to see that my parish transfers itself to the Roman jurisdiction, as well as myself.”

I think in this day and age this was inexcusable that Rome decided to do this without consultation

As the dispute in the CoE about women bishops has intensified, many “Anglo-Catholics” have warned they will transfer to the Roman Catholic Church unless they are given guaranteed access to male alternatives.

So much for divorce, female clergy, clerical celibacy and marriage, contraception, kiddyfiddling and transubstantiation. Let’s not fool ourselves – these are serious differences. None more so than the literal valmorification of Provita into messiah tartare which the Anglicans wisely (in the loosest sense possible) choose to ignore.

Utter bollocks. If ever there was a more glaring reminder that this whole con is man-made (I’ll ignore the countless other glaring reminders we deal with every day), surely this must be it?

If you disagree, you’re basically just a [click].

I figure this has got to be the biggest rebound in dating history. I wonder what late-night drunken text triggered it all?

More here from the New York Times.

I learnt a new word today: cuntslot. I like it. A lot.

You guys are a bunch of cuntslots.

End.

(Thanks to The Scott, the biggest cuntslot of all, for sending me this link. It’s also used in this romantic e-novella.)