The Kid Comes Through.

This will be in the March 8 issue of Sports Illustrated, hitting the stands on March 3. Not sure if this is just in Canada, or the US as well.

But that game...epic, right? Gripping to the very end. Then, as he always does, Sid became the shining star of Canada. I totally forgot that JUST for the Olympics, I had given Sid up in favor of Brooks Orpik and Zach Parise.

This cover brings all my Sid lovin' right on back. It was amazing, wasn't it? It made the sting of losing a little less.
-CE
Photo courtesy of Pittsburgh Penguins.

Ryan Kwanten, August Man.

Ryan Kwanten, how I have missed you. The months since "True Blood" have been passing slowly, and I cannot wait until I have it back in my life again.

He was photographed by Mitchell McCormack, and spoke on his life as an actor:

On making sure he keeps a life outside acting: “I don’t mean to sound preachy, but I think it is a mistake that a lot of actors make. They just surround themselves with the world of acting and therefore that is all they know.”
On watching his passion for the craft grow: “It wasn’t until the roles started getting bigger and the storylines more complex that I realized there was a true profession behind this. As the roles got deeper that passion for the craft was cemented in my veins.”
On leaving behind his life in Australia:“It was never a planned move to Hollywood, but once I arrived in L.A. it sunk its teeth into me and no matter how hard I tried it wouldn’t let go.”

You can see Ryan's past photo shoots here, or click on the Ryan Kwanten tag at the bottom of the article. Keep checking in the next few months for "True Blood" set photos, should happen soon. 

-CE

Photos courtesy of JJ.

Hockey's Finest: Olympiads.

Le sigh. If only this were on sale in the United States. Unfortunately, we don't care about hockey, or well...the winter Olympics at all really. So this is a strictly Canada only version of this SI.

For the record though- USA all the way. I'm rooting for my boy Brooks Orpik.

That jersey looks snazzy, non? Love the choice of blue as the dominant color. Red is so...garish. Sorry Russia.

Sergei Gonchar. It's going to be hard for me to root against him. Evgeni Malkin, eh. He doesn't need my cheers.

Doesn't Sid look good in his jersey though? Some weird and hideous thought is telling me that he got a fake tan for the occasion of this photo shoot, but I'm going to blame too much "Jersey Shore" and ignore it.

Question, and probably something only I would notice, but why do the US's and Russia's jersey's have scoop necks, and Canada's a V? Do Canadian's have thicker necks? Is it some sort of strategy?

We'll see I suppose. Fancy costumes won't win this battle. 

If you want to check out the preliminary line ups, check here.
-CE
Photos courtesy of NHL.

Nick Jonas, V Man.

Ok by total accident these pictures of Nick Jonas got lost on the mess that is my desktop and I forgot to post them. Sorry Jo Bro die hards, they were precious to me too- perhaps so much that I subconsciously did not want to share?

We'll say that. Anyways, true Jonas rabids will have already of seen these anyways, probably before I did- even with my six hour jump.

PS- does he not look like he has a little bit of a uni-brow in the above picture? Unfortunate angle, I'm sure. Joe would never let him be photographed un-groomed. 

What is up with V Man magazine lately? It's like all of a sudden it's the new GQ or something. Well, power to them, because I've been loving their covers. Nice.
-CE
Photos courtesy of Perez.

Total Bullshiz Studies.

Sitting in this amazing cafè in Rome, the one I have been searching for- they're playing awesome music, free wi-fi, none of that suck down your coffee at the counter and run out sort of thing. Perfect place to blog. Feeling very happy.

Then I saw this, and felt nauseous. Sick with the human race. And kind of dizzy. Seriously...I have no words for this level of self-worship. The bold quotes are ones I found particularly heinous.

On preferring Continuum to his 2009 disc Battle Studies: ”I know that I’m supposed to say that my newest is the best one. Bulls—.”
On his split with ex-girlfriend Jennifer Aniston: ”I’ve never really gotten over it. It was one of the worst times of my life… I have this weird feeling, a pride thing, for the people I’ve had relationships with. What would I be saying to Jen, who I think is f—ing fantastic, if I said to her, 'I don’t dislike you. In fact, I like you extremely well. But I have to back out of this because it doesn’t arc over the horizon. This is not where I see myself for the rest of my life, this is not my ideal destiny.'"

--Notice how he basically claims there that HE broke up with HER? Ultimate douche move.

On his sex life becoming an endless loop of new girls rejecting him in clubs: ”Blowing me off is the new sucking me off!”

On finding a girlfriend: “Do you think it’s going to take meeting someone who I admire more than I admire myself? But isn’t it also about a beautiful vagina? Aren’t we talking about a matrix of a couple of different things here? Like, you need to have them be able to go toe-to-toe with you intellectually. But don’t they also have to have a vagina you could pitch a tent on and just camp out on for, like, a weekend? Doesn’t that have to be there, too? The Joshua Tree of vaginas? …I’ll be happy when I close out this life-partner thing. Think of how much mental capacity I’m using to meet the right person so I can stop giving a f–k about it.”
On his relationships: “All I want to do now is f–k the girls I’ve already f–ked, because I can’t fathom explaining myself to somebody who can’t believe I’d be interested in them, and they’re going, 'But you’re John Mayer!' So I’m going backwards to move forward. I’m too freaked out to meet anybody else.”
On masturbation : “I am the new generation of masturbator. I’ve seen it all. Before I make coffee, I’ve seen more butt holes than a proctologist does in a week.”

On if he pleasures himself daily: “I don’t like that question, because it seeks to make me sound strange if I say ‘Yes, but of course I do.’ I mean, I have masturbated myself out of serious problems in my life. The phone doesn’t pick up because I’m masturbating. And I have excused myself at the oddest times so as to not make mistakes. If Tiger Woods only knew when to jerk off. It has a true market value, like gold bullion. First of all, I don’t jerk off because I’m horny. I’m sort of half-chick. It’s like District 9. I can fire alien weapons. I can insert a tampon. No, I do it because I want to take a brain bath. It’s like a hot whirlpool for my brain, in a brain space that is 100 percent agreeable with itself.”
On the paparazzi: “I’ll be honest with you. All this weird s–t about me? All this strangeness? I wouldn’t have a music career without it. But I am at odds with myself. I have some presence of psychological damage from the past 36 months. I have not had a woman appear in my dreams sexually without a paparazzi in the dream too. I can’t even have a wet dream without having to explain to someone who’s grinding on me, 'We can’t do this right now, because there’s a guy over there taking pictures.'”

As of two hours ago, John just tweeted, “Just read my Rolling Stone cover article. I’m still not sure if I would want to hang out with me. After 30 minutes of twirling my hair into a knot, I say ‘f–k it.’ You can’t go wrong if you tell the truth.”

BARF. Hate him. And yes, I think this is an experiment in just how the truth can go VERY VERY wrong. 

-CE

Photo courtesy of JJ.