Because business is business and studio execs only care about themselves, 20th Century Fox Television is seriously considering shutting down The Simpsons after the current season is over. The reason for this is the fact that the six main actors voicing the show’s characters are refusing to accept a 45% pay cut, as requested by the studio in order to cut production costs.

“Fox is taking the position that unless they can cut the production costs really drastically, they’ll pull the plug on new shows,” said a Simpsons insider with knowledge of the negotiations. “The show has made billions in profits over the years and will continue to do so as far as the eye can see down the road. The actors are willing to take a pay cut of roughly a third, but that’s not good enough for Fox.”

Each of the six principal actors is currently earning $8 million annually and would continue to earn over $4 million even with the proposed pay cuts, but apparently that’s not enough to keep them working. It may sound like greed but it’s actually quite understandable, because the show has earned the studio billions of dollars.

What’s really unfortunate about this situation, though, is the fact that the studio stands to make more money if the show ends than if the show continues – at least in the short term. Fox is sitting on a goldmine of ~500 episodes, and if the show was to end they could begin a second round of syndication deals that would be worth billions. And this time around they wouldn’t have to spend any of it on production costs because all the work has already been done.

Now, I know the show’s quality sort of declined over the years, but it’s still entertaining and it would be a shame to lose it. Besides, what will Fox replace it with? And where will Seth MacFarlane steal more ideas from? We can only take so many Family Guy clones . . .

via thedailybeast

Rhianna was in Northern Ireland on Monday shooting the video for her new single, “We Found Love,” in a local field. According to the farmer who booted Rihanna off his land:

The young lady in question was ceasing to be dressed in an appropriate manner. I felt the thing was inappropriate and I requested that the filming end at that stage. – billboard

Apparently corn fields are like fancy restaurants: You can’t just walk in wearing whatever you want. There’s a dress code, man!

According to local press Rihanna was initially wearing regular clothes, then stripped down to a bandana bikini and torn blue jeans, eventually ending up wearing a see-through black meshed shirt with nothing underneath. That was something the deeply religious Protestant farmer didn’t take kindly to. Rihanna can’t just expose his innocent field to that kind of hotness or it’ll grow mutant plants!

I don’t know why any of you would want to see this, but I’m not gonna judge. Besides, if the five year old me saw this, he’d get a huge boner, so I guess it’s not that bad.

After several self-shot phone pictures of Scarlett Johansson appeared on the web earlier today (as the result of an alleged cell-phone hack), the actress called in the FBI to contain her hotness.

“The FBI is aware of the alleged hacking incident and is looking into it,” an FBI official told FoxNews.com.

A totally understandable course of action, because if left unchecked this kind of hotness leak could start something worse than the Texas wildfires.

And because I support the FBI, I’ll be looking into this matter too – starting with the two photos below.

This story is mean. It’s about a bitch judging a decent guy because he’s a nerd that she met on OkCupid. But that’s the point: Judging people on shallow stuff is a bitch’s nature, and the magic and absurdity of online dating is how immediately and directly it throws that into relief.

Earlier this month, I came home drunk as I always do and made another OKCupid profile. What the hell, I thought. I’m busy, I’m single, I’m unattractive and everybody’s doing it. Sure, I’d heard some stories, but what was the worst that could happen? I’d remain single? Ha!

Two weeks into this particular online dating attempt, OKCupid had broken me down – again. I felt the same way I did every night, hanging out alone in this dark, date-rapey bar, hoping someone would grab me and take me into the back alley to repeatedly force themselves upon me. Every time I signed on, I was hoping to get hit by a barrage of messages. You know, the usual kind that all the other girls seem to get. Like, “Dem gurl u so foine, iwud lik veru much for me nd u to be marry n procreate.” Or “your legs do look strong.” But I never got any of those. I think it’s got something to do with my carpet face. So when I saw an IM from a guy named Jon that said, “You should go out with me :)” I was all like OMGIMAPRINCESSNAO. So I gave him my name and sent him a picture of my tits. “Google away,” I said, “there’s more where that came from.” Then dinner was ready, and I signed off without remembering to close redtube. It was an awkward dinner.

We met for a drink later that week, and I had to skip eating for a couple of days to save money for gas. Jon was thin and tall, dressed in a hedge fund uniform with pale skin and pierced ears. I was wearing my fanciest pajamas. We started talking about normal stuff—family, work, college, my incredibly good looks. I told him my brother was a gamer and I was a writer for a tech blog. And then he casually mentioned that he played Magic: The Gathering when he was younger.

“Actually,” he paused. “I’m the world champion.”

I laughed. Jackpot! I thought. My life is set! But the earnest look on his face told me he had already lost much of his interest in me.

I gulped my beer in five seconds flat and tried thinking about Magic, that strategic collectible card game involving wizards and spells and other detailed geekery. But cats, I like cats. Anyway, before I could try thinking about Magic again, we had to go. Jon had bought us tickets for a one-man show based on serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer’s life story. I was impressed that he could afford tickets. I can’t even afford tampons.

The next day I Googled my date and suddenly my period juices gushed onto my chair. The warmth felt comforting. It was a chilly day and I can’t afford blankets or heat. Anyway, Jon had A Wikipedia page! Competition videos! Fanboy forums comparing him to Chuck Norris! This guy wasn’t just some professional who dabbled in card games at a tender age. He’s Jon motherfucking Finkel, the man who could lift me from my miserable existence.

We met for round two later that week.

At dinner I got straight down to it. Did he make over $100 a week? “Yes.” FUCK YEA. Did he eat food every day? “I’m cooking beef tenderloin steaks with gorgonzola tomorrow.” FUCK YEA! Did he have any friends? “I’ve made best friends through Magic.” Ugh… I started feeling a little bit bad that I didn’t have anything to offer him. Here was a guy who had dedicated a good chunk of his life to mastering something, on a date with a girl who can barely do anything. BUT, he was a nerd who made friends in a card game so all his qualities didn’t matter one bit. How can I, an attractive young woman writing for a reputable blog, have a relationship with a nerd playing card games. I’m too good for him. I deserve a Clooney, or a Pitt.

So what did I learn? Nothing. But in 10 years, when I’m still single, I’ll write a new post about how men are judgemental bastards who won’t date me.

original on: gizmodo

PS: Alyssa, you’re a roaring cunt.

At least virtually, anyway.

TMZ reports that the website for Kim’s XXX tape has had two million people come on it (pun intended) between Friday and Sunday night. Considering that the site usually averages 300k visitors per month, 2 million is a great accomplishment. And speaking of great accomplishments, her husband must be really proud. It’s not every day that you get to marry someone who so eruptively brings out the best in millions of people.