When William Shatner isn’t busy flipping off J.J. Abrams or eating dessert with Henry Rollins, the Shat’s been cracking the whip upon a ghostwriter writing his autobiography. Naturally, he’s dishing a few lurid details:

WOMEN who slept with William Shatner sometimes had an out-of-this-world fantasy - they’d pretend they were being beamed up to ecstasy by the commander of the Starship Enterprise. The “Star Trek” legend tells Page Six his partners would dramatically gasp, “So, this is what it’s like to be in bed with Captain Kirk!” Shatner - whose autobiography, “Up Till Now,” hits stores today - laughed, “You can’t imagine how much of a downer that is in every sense of the word.”

Well, this could easily have been worse. I can imagine that poor Brent Spiner has suffered through far too many references to being “anatomically correct,” or, in the case of a really freaky chick, Spiner may have been forced to endure the following: “If the warp drive fails to activate, the results could be… unfortunate.” Trekkies are weird.

Sex and the City: The Movie has been eagerly awaited by fans of the show for—oh, about thirty years now, and when it finally hits the screen in a few weeks it seems fairly sure to be a major moneymaker. So it’s no surprise the promotional tie-ins are beginning to appear, and the first seems entirely appropriate. The Mr. Big vibrator, named after Carrie Bradshaw’s longtime heartthrob, is going on sale in the UK for a mere £30. (Which at current exchange rates, is something like $437.00.) Technically the vibrator is supposed to mark the tenth anniversary of the first appearance of The Rabbit, Charlotte’s special battery-powered friend on the TV series, and any connection with the release of the movie is completely coincidental. Still, one website is offering fans who see the movie a 50 percent discount on the purchase of Little Mr. Big. No word yet on when 7-Eleven is going to release that Kristin Davis set of Big Gulp glasses.

Kermit always struck me as one of the more emo characters on a fairly emo children’s TV show, a quality I attributed to lingering Seventies damage and PBS funding. However, I might have been wrong about that. On his MySpace page, Kermit explains:

Soon after the death of Jim Henson, Sad Kermit spiraled downward into a life full of addiction, romance and pain. The songs and videos on this webpage shed light on Sad Kermit’s descent into his dark, hurting world.

Kermit’s page includes videos for several of his songs, and man, are they depressing. I’d seen his performance of Trent Reznor’s “Hurt” and thought it was surprisingly good, but wait ‘til you see Kermit sing Elliot Smith’s “Needle in the Hay,” complete with a re-enactment of the suicide scene from The Royal Tenenbaums. It’s beginning to look as if Kermit’s big problem with Sesame Street might be that the show isn’t nearly emo enough.

(Via Buzzfeed.)

Snoop Dogg Sings in German

Snoop Dogg’s paw prints are everywhere lately. When he’s not doing exciting things like freaking everyone’s shit out at the CMT Music Awards, he’s been guest-starring on daytime soap “One Life to Live” (thanx to GroovyVic), chilling with Willie Nelson in Amsterdam, and making recent strides to win a visa battle and gain re-entry to the U.K.. Unfortunately, not everything Snoop touches turns to gold, for he’s reportedly been in the studio with Lindsay Lohan to help her with Plan B when her acting career finally implodes. Alas, word on the street is that Lohan’s new music sucks pretty hard no matter who helps her out. Too bad.

If Snoop runs fast enough, he might just maintain his lucrative career and make a few more bizarre German commercials like the above video, in which he sings in German as an homage to singer Roy Black. Fo shizzle.

While I realize this blog’s audience comes for the cheesecake and stays for the humour, no funny business shall be found at present moment. I am a firm believer that humour is one of the best damn things in life, and, most of the time, I can use comedy to work through my anger on any given topic. However, I am quite disgusted about something, and I am not even gonna pretend that this doesn’t make me absolutely furious. Since the deaths of Theresa Duncan and Jeremy Blake (lovers, companions, and “co-muses”), their memories have been trashed. The culprit? Oh, just an establishment that is known for its heavy-handed influence in Hollywood. You tell me.

In June 2007, Theresa L. Duncan, a filmmaker, blogger, and a kindred soul on all matters related to Kate Moss and Pete Doherty, took her own life by way of a diphenhydramine and alcohol cocktail. A week later, Jeremy Blake followed her into the abyss by drowning himself in the Atlantic Ocean off Rockaway Beach. Within a few months, a random jackass began shopping a script based upon the couple’s imagined sex life around. Vanity Fair magazine waited about six months before painting a paranoid picture of Duncan and Blake in an article entitled, “The Golden Suicides.” Now, primetime television has followed suit, and, if you’re wondering just what this is all about, Fishbowl L.A. nicely summarizes:

Law and Order Depicts Theresa Duncan’s Death

But there was a twist - the writer character was murdered instead of committing suicide and the cult harassing her had a leader that isn’t publishing books from the gave. Crazy. Plus on TV - the cult was totally innocent - it was the insane paranoia and hatred AT the cult that lead the husband to murder his wife and throw himself off a building to try and give the cult bad publicity. And it was that same paranoia and hatred that made him confess instead of accepting an impending mistrial.

Ripped from the headlines.

The ever gallant Flea voices his anger: “Law and Order has violated the memory of Theresa Duncan and slandered Jeremy Blake as a murderer.” That is exactly what happened on the “Law and Order” of April 30th, which has been discussed in detail at Television Without Pity:

Jeremy Sisto mentioned in a recent interview that he enjoyed working on “… an episode about Scientology. I have friends who are Scientologists, so I hope they aren’t offended.”

Surely, the families of Blake and Duncan must be offended. Did ya think of that?

For his part, Jeremy Blake was a well-respected artist who created, among other things, the abstract hallucination scenes in 2002’s Punch Drunk Love. Blake was also hired by Beck, musician and celebrity Scientologist, for some cover work for one of his albums. Blake and Duncan had also been friends with Marisa and Giovanni Ribisi for a number of years. About the same time that these friendships dissolved, the alleged harassment from the COS began.

At the time of their suicides, Blake and Duncan both genuinely believed they were being harassed by Scientologists, and Theresa remained frustrated that production had halted for a movie based upon one of her scripts, which happened to somewhat criticize the cult. She had a hunch that Tom Cruise, who possessed the requisite access and power, had blocked the film. That certainly sounds reasonable, since his control-freak tendencies are quite notorious. Did Cruise actually do it? We’ll never know, but it’s time for any “interested parties” to stop the madness of destroying the legacies of Jeremy Blake and Theresa Duncan. Let. Them. Rest. In. Peace.

Prepare thyself, for the end is nigh. Go read it.

I can’t honestly recommend that you watch this video of Erin Moran (who, about fifty years ago, played Joanie Cunningham on Happy Days) faking a volcanic orgasm, although watching it might be a smart move if you’ve decided that sex is way too much of a bother and you’d like to give it up for the next decade or so. Pretty the video is not, but it’s undeniably educational. I learned that Celebrity Fit Club, one of those shows I’ve never seen, is a reality show that induces violent epileptic fits in a bunch of washed-up former celebrities traveling by bus. And I’m afraid I also learned that after I die, I’m going to find myself trapped on a bus with Willy Aames, Dustin Diamond, and a hyperorgasmic Erin Moran, because I have led a terrible, terrible life.

It was fun while it lasted. Okay, not really. But then again, it also didn’t last. Secret Talents of the Stars, which aired Tuesday night as the replacement for the much loved Jericho, has been cancelled after a single episode. Somehow, viewers just didn’t warm up to the idea of watching people who are famous for doing one thing well doing something entirely different, and not very well. An additional problem was that people like Danny Bonaduce, Sheila E, and Marla Maples can only be called “stars” if you redefine the term so broadly that it becomes more or less synonymous with “biped.”

So those of you who didn’t see Sheila E’s juggling skills or Clint Black’s dark, somber stand-up routine—and that’s pretty much all of you, judging by the ratings—won’t get a second chance. While Secret Talents of the Stars rides off into the sunset, to join the growing list of one-shot wonders, we’ll let George Takei serenade the departing series with his rendition of “On the Road Again.” Watch out, Clay Aiken!