In this edition of the Hater podcast, Amelie Gillette and The Onion's Editor-In-Chief Joe Randazzo discuss three things that are like papercuts to the brain: Jennifer Love Hewitt's love advice book/cry for help; Vince Neil's rockin' airline/misery-for-hire; and an actor who is allegedly the key to the mysteries of Lost/the scourge of rabid Lost fans. Go ahead: Enjoy!

Hatecast #37: Men Are From Mars, Jennifer Love Hewitt Is Insane

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Once upon a time, a congressman was sitting in Congress, bored and ignored. It was a nice day outside, and he hated sitting there in Congress while everyone around was voting or talking or doing Congress things. This congressman wanted everyone to pay attention to him, so he decided to play a game. "Baby Killer!" he yelled. Alarmed, everyone rushed over to the congressman. "Where's the baby killer?" they all asked. "Ha ha. Made you look," the Congressman Who Cried "Baby Killer" said. Annoyed, the other congresspeople walked off. 

A few minutes later, the Congressman Who Cried "Baby Killer" was feeling bored and ignored again. "Baby Killer!" he yelled out. Once again, the other congresspeople came running over, "Oh no!" they gasped. "Where is the baby killer? We must stop him." The Congressman Who Cried "Baby Killer" just laughed. Angry, the other congresspeople stormed off.

About an hour later, The Congressman Who Cried "Baby Killer" was sitting around painting his fingernails with Wite-Out when he saw a man in a ski mask creep around the corner and remove one of the infants from the Congressional Baby Pen. The Congressman Who Cried "Baby Killer" watched as the man in the ...

As we all know, Lost is a rich tapestry of allusions, mysteries, clues, references, symbols, and bad wigs all converted into a robust red wine that represents evil and poured into a bottle that is then tightly corked. Nothing can be taken at face value. Everything means several somethings. Probably. Or, maybe.

This is especially true of Lost's episode titles, which are usually so fraught with hidden meanings they are never merely "announced," but "unveiled."

From TV Guide:

The series finale of Lost is eight episodes away and ABC has unveiled its title.

So what title could emulate the entire series and leave us feeling satisfied?

"The End."

Seriously. That's the title of the last episode of Lost we'll ever see.

"We couldn't probably make a more clear statement as to the fact that we are bringing our story to a close," said executive producer Carlton Cuse in ABC's latest Lost podcast.

Sure, Cuse. You "probably" couldn't make a clearer statement that the story is closed. That just means that the story is still open, right? Of course right.

So what does "The End" really mean? Let's overthink!

--The show is over. (But ...

Jennifer Garner and Jessica Biel take turns pummeling a giant, pink, heart-shaped pinata with a small baseball bat.

"I hate Valentine's Day!" Jessica shouts, giving the pinata a determined thwack.

"I know! It's so stupid!" Jennifer replies as she begins to punch the side of the pink heart with her bare hands. "Agghhh!"

"Cut!" Garry Marshall yells. The two actresses immediately collapse into giggles. "Good work, girls. Funny. This reminds me of Laverne & Shirley."

"Oh?" Jennifer says. "In what way, Mr. Marshall?"

"In the way that I'm Garry Marshall, creator of Laverne & Shirley directing a blonde and a brunette in a comedy. Also, pinatas always remind me of Penny for some reason."

Jennifer and Jessica exchange confused looks. "Uh, but we're both brunettes," Jessica says.

"Brunette, blonde, who cares? I'm Garry Marshall and I know Laverne & Shirley when I see it. How would you two like to make a Laverne & Shirley movie?"

"Um, okay," Jessica says.

"Well...sure," Jennifer replies. "But who would be Laverne and who would be Shirley?"

"What's the difference? Work it out between the two of you. Now I've just gotta get someone to write the stupid thing. Hmmm ...

Until we can find a way to inject a movie directly into the spine like a cinematic epidural, every movie is going to unnecessarily be in 3-D. (And, unless it's a horror movie, all 3-D is unnecessary. Non-horror 3-D movies are usually like being trapped inside a holographic Lisa Frank sticker.) That's just the way it's going to be. It's probably all part of some covert sweetheart deal between 3-D glasses manufacturers and movie studios to discredit Smell-O-Vision. (Where is Jesse Ventura when you need him?)

The latest movie to go 3-D is the story of everyone's favorite incoherent, squinty, grotesquely-swollen-jawed sailor, Popeye.

Yes, Popeye:

Sony is bringing an all-CGI "Popeye" to the bigscreen, with the iconic sailor man's muscles set to pop in 3D.

The logline is being kept under wraps, but Popeye's love interest Olive Oyl, nemesis Bluto and adopted child Swee'Pea will be part of the adventure. Arad says the new version will cover the themes of friendship, love, greed and life, and focus on human strengths and human frailties. 

I'm pretty sure the logline is just, "Popeye bein' Popeye and stuff," but one thing's for sure ...

Sarah Palin's transformation into an un-self-aware version of Snooki is near complete. According to Variety, Palin's reality show might have been sold to Discovery for $1 million (or 100,000 Bump-Its) per episode. Now all that remains is for Sarah Palin to pass the Discovery Channel Reality Host All-Stars initiation—an afternoon of harvesting bat guano, followed by a drawn-out re-enactment of a surprise pregnancy that ends with giving birth on the cement floor of a campground bathroom, then crawling inside the warm, rotting carcass of a dead camel to sleep for the night, all while Mike Rowe, Bear Grylls, and the re-enacters from I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant chant "One of us! One of us!"—and she will officially be a shameless infotainment peddler.

In case you're wondering what the show's going to be about, it's going to be "Sarah Palin's Alaska," so basically lots of stunning Alaskan landscapes dotted with post-it notes that read "Sarah's." 

From Variety:

"Sarah Palin's Alaska" will center on interesting characters, traditions and attractions in the 49th state -- with the ex-VP candidate as a guide. Burnett and Palin pitched the show to all four ...

Ashley Madison sounds like the name of a cheap plus-size clothing chain, but it is actually a Craigslist Casual Encounters site for married people who apparently have no idea what Craigslist Casual Encounters is.  Avatar sounds like the name of a fake virtual reality game in an episode of Law & Order circa 1999, but it is actually a recent 3-D movie about the lives, loves, and struggles of blue catpeople. Naturally, when Ashley Madison and Avatar combine, the result is the most nonsensical commercial ever:

(via Best Week Ever)

Did you hire Sterling Cooper for this, Ashley Madison?  Because it is very persuasive. I'm sure more than one married person who saw this ad on Bravo at 2am on a Tuesday thought, "Hmm. I wasn't going to cheat on my spouse with a stranger I found online, but I do like Avatar! Maybe I'll check out Lane Bryant. I mean, Ashley Madison."

You open the front door and step into the dingy stairwell of a rundown apartment building. The wallpaper, what's left of it anyway, is yellowed with age, and the air is thick with dust. Somewhere upstairs, behind one of the apartment doors a baby is wailing. You check the address your agent wrote down for you on a scrap of paper. "This can't be right," you think to yourself as you climb the stairs, "Why would Disney hold an audition for Pirates Of The Caribbean 4 here?" But at the top of the stairs, there it is: a door improbably marked "Suite 2A." Taped to door is a sign, well, a torn piece of looseleaf paper that reads, "Disney Audishuns 2Day." You take a deep breath and knock. 

A disheveled man in a flannel shirt and striped pajama bottoms opens the door. He's wearing a light meter around his neck like a police badge.

"I..I'm here for the Pirates 4 auditions?" you manage.

"Of course you are." the man says as he takes your hand and leads you inside the apartment, "Come in, Coco, come in."

"Oh, I'm not Coco," you say. "My name ...

Can someone please give Will Smith a time-consuming acting role that doesn't involve suicide-by-jellyfish? Because apparently when Will Smith isn't acting, he's producing—which wouldn't be so bad except that for Will Smith "producing" means "horrendously miscasting a pointless remake of a beloved 80s movie so that Jaden and/or Willow will have something to do over the summer." First, it was a remake of The Karate Kid, but set in China, starring Will's favored son, and somehow about kung-fu. Now, Will Smith is remaking Overboard with Jennifer Lopez for some reason—even though the premise of the original 1987 movie is repugnant, and Guy Ritchie's remake of the similarly repugnant Swept Away starring a former pop star didn't do so well.

From The Hollywood Reporter:

Jennifer Lopez is in talks to star in the remake of the romantic comedy "Overboard," which Overbrook is producing for Columbia.

The 1987 movie, which starred Kurt Russell and Goldie Hawn and was directed by Garry Marshall, centered on a snooty, spoiled woman who falls off her yacht and is taken to the hospital by a local, morally challenged carpenter. When she wakes up with amnesia, he ...

It's the 35th edition of the Hatecast. In honor of the occasion, Amelie Gillette and Onion News Network writer/director Lang Fisher did their best JFK impressions for 35 wisely unrecorded minutes before discussing Mike Tyson's passion for pigeon-racing; why E!'s Pretty Wild would be nothing without an arrest for burglary; and how horse-murdering turned Lisa Jo Druck into Rielle Hunter.

Hatecast #36: Mike Tyson: Boxer, Rapist, Pigeon-Racing Star Of Animal Planet

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Last night, this mysterious entity known as Ke$ha p€rform€d on American Idol, which is a popular thunderdome program about trilling.  What is Ke$ha? She is the reverse of that high-pitched ringtone that adults can't hear—only people under 20 can't hear the horrible noises she makes.

Ke$ha (the dollar sign is silent) does not trill, but she is a musician of sorts. Based on the following video of her performance last night and nothing else, here's a short list of who (or what) Ke$ha's influences clearly are:

—The set design of a high-school production of Cats.

—A Casio keyboard set to "Rhumba" and boiling in a Fry Daddy

—LFO

—An LFO tribute band called LFAlsO

—A talking Jem doll undergoing a lobotomy inside a pinball machine

—N'SYNC's stirring, TV-heads rendition of "Bye Bye Bye" at the 2000 VMAs.

—The whine of a thousand mechanical mosquitos

—Dante

—Teddy Ruxpin drowning in a vat of NyQuil

—NyQuil in general

—Landfills

—The Indian from The Village People

Gyms are basically rage incubators. They're sweatboxes full of smelly, moist people running side-by-side to nowhere, and patrolling trainers who say "core" every other word, and weightlifters who make sure you know just how heavy those weights are by grunting with every rep louder than the Ke$ha song (the third one in an hour) that's blasting through the gym's sound-system like a thousand steel ball-bearings dropping on a field of garbage can lids. Gyms are the worst. Everyone who goes to the gym knows this because we subject ourselves to this hell voluntarily—which is why the only thing worse than going to the gym is complaining about going to the gym. 

But now, thanks to the New York Times, there's a new gym-related worst. Now the only thing worse than complaining about going to the gym is reading an article about how people hate being at the gym.

“I hate working out more than just about anything,” said Ms. Podlodowski, who goes to the gym three or four times a week. “I’ll use anything I can to distract me — a book, a magazine, a friend to talk to. Without my distractions I’d ...

In case you haven't heard because TV, movie theaters, magazines, the Internet, and scaffolding covered in posters have been merciful to you, the latest entry to the storied Step-1-lock-her-in-a-trunk-Step-2-she-falls-in-love-with-you genre is The Bounty Hunter, starring Gerard Butler in the wardrobe of a 13-year-old boy, a vaguely human-shaped pile of beige exasperation (Jennifer Aniston), and a complete lack of chemistry. Obviously, it is the worst-looking movie since Jennifer Aniston's or Gerard Butler's last movies.

Yet, just when you think you've reached the bottom of The Bounty Hunter's awfulness, the ground gives way and the taupe tunnel of wretchedness that is The Bounty Hunter stretches on for a few more terrible feet. Case in point: "From The director of Hitch" is apparently one of this movie's selling points:

And here's a sample of the movie's hilarious two-exes-battling-it-out revenge humor:

Good one, The Bounty Hunter.

If you've ever wondered what Out Of Sight would look like if filtered through The Ugly Truth, you're in luck:

"The Bounty Hunter" just doesn't quite capture the level of awfulness on display here—also it unfairly besmerches the name of Dog, that famous bounty hunter. 

Alternate ...

Being a shock artist used to be tough. You had to collect all your fingernail clippings for twenty years and then fashion them into a mosaic of Gorbachev raping an owl; or you had to develop a plastinization process to preserve human tissue, convince the Chinese government to give you the bodies of prisoners, and then painstakingly bend and shape the bodies into weird poses. If you were feeling lazy, you used giraffe dung and old baby teeth to make a portrait of Mother Teresa—but even that took some effort. (There was the drive to the wildlife park, convincing the zookeepers you weren't totally insane, carting buckets of giraffe poop back and forth, etc.)

Nowadays, all you have to do is dress up your adorable baby like Pinochet, and suddenly you're a shock artist whose work is all about "examining the nature of evil."

(via Buzzfeed)

If this looks like a joke, that's because it is a joke. Or, at least, it was. Now it's a joke and shock art that forces you contemplate both the meaning of evil and edgy Halloween costumes for your baby. 

Still, Baby Dictators would make a pretty good Comedy ...

Evidence That Kirstie Alley's Diet Is Just A Normal, Run-Of-The-Mill Diet Scam, Not A Scientology Diet Scam (According to The Today Show and Organicliaison.com)

1. Kirstie Alley's made-up diet plan is called "Organic Liaison."

That's an insane collision of words that telegraphs precisely how stupid this supposed "scientifically based" diet is—but "Organic Liaison" doesn't really telegraph "Scientology." If Organic Liaison were really a Scientology front, wouldn't they call it The Organic Rundown, or Organic Operating Level I?

"Organic Liaison" just sounds like a porn set at a greenmarket, not an extension of Dianetics.

2. When asked if Organic Liaison is a front for Scientology, Kirstie Alley only gets medium-defensive:

On Tuesday in New York, TODAY’s Meredith Vieira asked Alley directly whether the “Organic Liaison” diet program is connected to Scientology.

“It’s such bullsh....” Alley started to say, before Vieira interrupted and stopped her from finishing a barnyard epithet.

See? If Organic Liaison really was a Scientology front, Kirstie Alley would probably be vulgar-expletive-level defensive, not barnyard-epithet-level defensive.

3. Kirstie Alley's not trying to sell Scientology, she's just trying to sell some weird pink elixir that melts fat and also ...