This white dude rapping about pancakes is the biggest thing on the internet right now. Yes, he raps really well, but let us not overlook the fact that his subject matter is breakfast foods. All I’m saying is that this should be encouraged.

MORNING LINKS
A tribute to our outgoing editor, Matt Ufford. |Warming Glow|

St. Petersburg Tops List As America’s Saddest City |Smoking Section|

This Week in Posters. |FilmDrunk|

Kate Upton Took A Tour Of The New Madison Square Garden |With Leather|

Lady Gamers Put Out More…Errr…Have More Sex |UPROXX|

Six Videos of Floppy Drives Singing |Gamma Squad|

11 Reasons Why Lifting The U.S. Horse-Meat Ban Is A Good Thing |Buzzfeed|

The history of the world in stop motion. |dogandponyshow|

Someone explains why pennies should be abolished, as if we really needed it explained. I treat them like rat turds. |TheDailyWhat|

This kids hates Tom Brady. But he’s so handsome! |Videogum|

Another batch of pictures where January Jones isn’t handling her own child. |TheSuperficial|

Seven movies that became unlikely musicals. |ScreenJunkies|

Holy Taco picks the best presents of 2011. |HolyTaco|

The 13 most insane Mexican food-related crimes. |Ranker|

A Gallery of Pitch Perfect Daria Cosplay |Unreality|

Community Credits x Parks & Recreation |NextRound|

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It must be ladies day here on FilmDrunk, because it seems like I’d barely finished posting Bradley Cooper speaking French when Northwestern University’s number one Lizzady’s Man (and number two son of Tom Hanks) Chet Haze dropped a new track.  I say this without sarcasm or hyperbole, Chet Haze is one of the top ten white rappers named Chet in the world.  You can listen to the track below (because I know you want to). Sample lyrics:

Cuz you know I gotta get in my zone
Turn my swag on and holla cuz it helps with these poems
So it’s Gucci, Louis, Prada — whateva you want
Take you shoppin’ when I wanna, it’s whateva you want
Keep you lookin tip top while we pop a few bottles
Time to speed it up like we pushin’ on the throttle

Ahh, reppin’ brand names, the great equalizer between ghetto thugs and rich white kids from Pacific Palisades.  Anyway, it’s no “I’ll stab you in the peep hole/with a ski pole,” (SKI THUGZ 4 LYFE, SKEET SKEET!), but otherwise not a terrible rhyme.  By which I mean that it does rhyme (sort of).  Ugh, I deserve a Pulitzer for taking the time to transcribe that.  Do you see me here, suffering for my art? (*pulls a Van Gogh*).  Meanwhile, in a FilmDrunk Exclusive, I’ve been able to obtain a transcript of the first track off Chet Haze’s brother Colin Hanks’ first album:

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Matt Dentler over at Indiewire spotted these stencils in Chelsea this morning, featuring the silhouette of Joaquin Phoenix, suggesting that his Cleveland Steamer movie, I’m Still Here, has begun its guerilla marketing campaign.  It opens September 10th, and here’s some of what you can expect:

Snorting cocaine, ordering call girls, having oral sex with a publicist, treating his assistants abusively and rapping badly.  Several buyers said the film overflowed with Hollywood debauchery, including more male frontal nudity than you’d find in some gay porn films and a stomach-turning sequence in which someone feuding with Phoenix defecates on the actor while he’s asleep.

Meanwhile, I’m Still Here director Casey Affleck is running a guerilla marketing campaign of his own by getting sued twice for sexual harassment.  Last week it was Amanda White, one of the documentary’s producers, suing for $2 million.

According to White, Affleck tried to get her to share his hotel room midway through shooting, and when she didn’t go for the idea, he “became hostile and aggressive,” sent her “abusive” text messages, and refused to pay her agreed-upon $50,000 producer fee. White also alleges that Affleck created a hostile work environment by referring to women as “cows,” talking about “his sexual exploits and those of other celebrities that he actually witnessed”, and employing prostitutes — allegedly actresses — “for his personal gratification.” [iVillage]

Today, it’s the cinematographer, suing for the same amount:

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Magnolia pictures has acquired distribution rights for Casey Affleck’s documentary, I’m Still Here: The Lost Year of Joaquin Phoenix, with a plan to release it September 10th, starting in limited release and going wide a week later.  Why is that awesome news?  Well, here’s what we know about it so far.  From a report of the film when it screened for buyers:

It’s far from the Joaquin Phoenix you’re used to seeing onscreen: snorting cocaine, ordering call girls, having oral sex with a publicist, treating his assistants abusively and rapping badly.  Several buyers said the film overflowed with Hollywood debauchery, including more male frontal nudity than you’d find in some gay porn films and a stomach-turning sequence in which someone feuding with Phoenix defecates on the actor while he’s asleep.

Well now you’re speaking my language.  Non-consensual Cleveland Steamers are my favorite kind of Cleveland Steamers.  There was also this story:

Phoenix was spotted pawing through racks of clothes at Red Balls on Melrose, where he finally grabbed a black velvet cape, black trousers and mesh top, ducked into a dressing room – and began belting rap songs. Emerging in his new outfit, he told the salesgirl he’d be wearing it home. Nervous, she asked: “What form of payment will you be using today, sir?”… then nearly jumped out of her skin when Phoenix banged down a wad of cash and yelled: “MONEY!”

That was the sales girl’s fault.  You see a guy in a cape and a mesh t-shirt, just assume he’s paying in cash, trust me.  In another funny twist (well, maybe not funny “ha ha”), Magnolia is the same company that put out Two Lovers, the movie Phoenix was supposed to be promoting when he was sticking his gum under Letterman’s desk, for which he took heavy criticism.

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At the hotel afterparty following the Horror Hound Weekend in Indianapolis this weekend, someone dared Corey Haim to rap, which makes complete sense considering the people there were by definition fans of things that are horrible.  Haim accepted, because what has he got to lose, and busted some rhymes.  I mean, I guess he rhymed, you can’t really hear anything he says. The guy with the guitar and his friend on the djembe sort of drowned out the vocals.  Which I suppose is for the best.  You can’t have a white-boy jam without a djembe.

[via BloodyGoodHorror]