She wanted her song ‘I Touch Myself’ to inspire women to check for breast cancer. Now cancer has claimed Chrissy Amphlett, the tough, sexy frontwoman for Australian rock band Divinyls.
Chris Brown is apparently such a douche that the Herald Sun doesn’t even need to hear what Adele said to know she gave him a “tongue-lashing” at the Grammys.
Director Kevin Smith says he’ll quit the writer-director game after Clerks III. Now we can apply Tarantino’s “every director’s last four films are shit” theory.
Transcontinentally-acclaimed author Nancy Huston snatches the 2012 Bad Sex In Fiction award for resplendent quivering, palpitating and triple-undulation.
Luke McGregor may behave awkwardly in the dating game, but if chicks like a guy who can make ‘em laugh, call him Casanova.
The title character in Joel Tito’s comic theatre piece is a pathetic loser, but thankfully this one-man show has a larger, stranger, funnier cast.
Hannah Gadsby truly finds her voice in this ambling, intimate and ultimately profound catalogue of the routine humiliations that sculpt our outlook on life.
It’s the Case of the Youthful Prank and diligent dick Lawrence Leung is all over it in this well-done mystery show.
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In cartoons, alum puckered Sylvester The Cat’s mouth into a cat’s arse. Will this chemical compound do the same to your natural predators?
Critics revelled in spewing venom across the Linsday Lohan-helmed flop biopic Liz & Dick. But how did her Aussie (enough) co-star Grant Bowler fare?
Even the Olympics has indie cred: “I’m so cool I qualified for the Olympics before my nation’s sovereignty was even recognised, man”.
Fresh New York writing outlet n+1 ably (but irregularly) blows the cobwebs out of the stuffy lit-mag genre. Here’s a cheat sheet for the anti-literary magazine literary magazine.