BUSH BABY Now that's what we call one gooey tip.


MONDAY, APRIL 18

Welcome back to One Day at a Time, dears, where we squeeze out all the ooziest, juiciest news from Hollyweird! But first! A morsel from a bit closer to home, where a Eugene man has made headlines with a heart-swelling tale of romance. "An Oregon man robbed his own pet store in Eugene and used one of the items, a nocturnal primate, to give to a prostitute as a tip," KGW reports. (Hold on, dears—we need to check our calendar to make sure it isn't Valentine's Day.) According to KGW, Nathan Allen McClain robbed his own Zany Zoo pet store last month, stealing "Girl Scout cookie money, a laptop, and a Galago primate named 'Gooey'... Galagos are also known as 'bush babies' and are native to Africa." So. Given that it was his own pet store that he robbed, how did McClain get caught? Well.... "On March 17, police found Gooey with an out-of-town prostitute at a hotel in the Eugene area," KGW notes. Two days later, "Oregon State Police arrested McClain in the parking lot of the OSP office in Albany because he walked out of a porn shop next door to the police department and was apparently under the influence of methamphetamine." Shortly after, police learned that "McClain [had] robbed his own store, paid for sex with the prostitute with the Girl Scout money, and then gave her Gooey as a tip." Gooey, to everyone's relief, has been taken in by bush baby protective services.


TUESDAY, APRIL 19

At long last, New York magazine has dared to ask the preeminent question of our age: So is James Franco gay or what? "Let's talk about what you're putting out there," New York's valiant Jerry Saltz said to Franco. "A lot of gay men have said to me, 'Well, Franco's kind of a gay cock tease.... And you do say you're gay in your work." And now, Franco's response: "There is a bit of overfocusing on my sexuality, both by the straight press and the gay press, and so the first question is, why do they care?" Franco began, in the most obnoxiously Franco-ish way possible. "Well, because I'm a celebrity, so I guess they care who I'm having sex with. But if your definition of 'gay' and 'straight' is who I sleep with, then I guess you could say I'm a gay cock tease. It's where my allegiance lies, where my sensibilities lie, how I define myself. Yeah, I'm a little gay, and there's a gay James." Sooooo... that clears everything up, right? No? Okay.


WEDNESDAY, APRIL 20

This week, Republican presidential frontrunner Donald Trump decided to throw another wrench into the GOP race. When people go to the bathroom, Trump declared, they should "use the bathroom they feel is appropriate." Well, obviously—this makes perfect sense for everyone who isn't transphobic, homophobic, or phobic of the world as it is in 2016. Which means, of course, other Republicans lost their shit. "Common sense: grown men shouldn't be in bathrooms w/ little girls," tweeted ignorant bigot/Trump challenger Ted Cruz. "Many social conservatives were quick to condemn Mr. Trump's comments," the New York Times added depressingly, "saying he could face a backlash, especially among voters in the Republican base, some of whom are already skeptical of his past support of abortion rights." SO LOOK... Trump is obviously a deplorable, disgusting monster, and literally every single other stance he has is morally and ideologically disgusting. But if there's any silver lining to his political success, it's that he's pissing off some of that party's loud-mouthed, hateful morons. In an imperfect world such as this one, we're going to count that as the tiniest of wins? Keep it up, Trump! (Now if you'll excuse us, typing that sentence makes us want to take a bath. In Purell.)


THURSDAY, APRIL 21

In terribly sad, unbelievable news, Prince Rogers Nelson was found dead today in an elevator at his Paisley Park residence. He was a shockingly young 57. While TMZ is reporting that Prince died from repercussions following a Percocet overdose a week before, we probably won't know the results of the autopsy report for weeks. For now, we have his music and performances to remember. The Mercury's Joshua James Amberson eulogizes Prince in this very issue [pg. 19], writing, "When Prince died we didn't just lose a pop star, or one of the most prolific musicians in the history of recorded music, or one of the most compelling live performers of the last 40 years—we lost a force whose very existence challenged people to seek out their better selves. He wasn't perfect, and the philosophy he championed was muddled and full of contradictions. But his life managed to make the world more interesting and, for a lot of people, a better place." Rest in purple, sweet Prince.


FRIDAY, APRIL 22

As the world still mourns the passing of Prince, right on cue here comes fucking asshole Justin Bieber to remind the world that he really is just a fucking asshole. Heartbroken Prince fan and songwriter Andrew Watt posted a loving tribute on Instagram, which among other things, called Prince, "the last of the greatest living performers." For reasons unknown, this inspired fucking asshole Justin Bieber to comment, "Well not the last greatest living performer." WHY ON EARTH WOULD HE DO THIS??? Naturally the comment was later deleted. Unfortunately, fucking asshole Justin Bieber and his culturally inappropriate blond dreadlocks were not.


SATURDAY, APRIL 23

Previously shrouded in mystery, the legitimate, uncontested queen of the universe, Beyoncé, released her "visual album," Lemonade, on HBO today to an unsuspecting public. And for those watching, the world stopped spinning—because not only did Beyoncé produce a visually arresting work of art, but one of the most raw, painfully honest, and important messages an artist has delivered in years. The casual viewer might be tempted to label Lemonade as simply a juicy, rage-filled "fuck you" to her wildly overrated and probably philandering hubby Jay-Z (and it is that), but this album goes far deeper, intertwining feminism, family, #blacklivesmatter, racism, revenge, and redemption into one vital work of art. Reciting poems by the fabulously talented Somali-British writer Warsan Shire (seriously, check her shit out), Beyoncé rages about the treatment of women—particularly black women—at the hands of their men, fathers, and society. In one particularly stinging section, Beyoncé seethes at the unfaithful, saying, "Where do you go when you go quiet? You remind me of my father, a magician, able to exist in two places at once. In the tradition of men in my blood, you come home at 3 am and lie to me. What are you hiding? The past and the future merge to meet us here. What luck, what a fucking curse." The film is so cutting, so personal, you seriously suspect that, at its conclusion, Jay-Z will be served with divorce papers. Instead, Beyoncé once again rises above, reminds her man of exactly who she is, and what she deserves, and then? Forgives. Near the end, Jay-Z is exactly where he belongs, staring silently at the camera—rubbing Beyoncé's feet.


SUNDAY, APRIL 24

Today we were still talking about the groundbreaking visual album Lemonade, giggling with glee at Jay-Z getting his presumed comeuppance, and marveling at how Beyoncé worked through her feelings artistically, instead of sobbing on Oprah's couch. But for those who don't recall the circumstances behind Jay-Z's alleged betrayal, it all goes back to May 5, 2014 after the Met Gala, where elevator security footage caught Beyoncé's sister Solange Knowles furiously punching and kicking at Jay as Beyoncé silently looked on. At the time, waggy tongues blamed a supposed tryst between Jay and Rachel Roy: a fashion designer and ex-wife of the rapper's former partner Damon Dash. Flash forward to Lemonade, where Beyoncé drops a delicious clue, saying Jay-Z's lover is "Becky with the good hair." Immediately, three things ocurred: (1) Half the internet pointed at Rachel Roy. (2) The other half mistakenly thought Jay had an affair with Food Network celebrity Rachael Ray. Hahahahahaahahhhhhhh!! And (3) Rachel Roy outed herself by posting online, "Good hair don't care, but we will take good lighting, for selfies, or self truths, always. Live in the light #nodramaqueens." Needless to say, the internet simultaneously cried, "OH HELL NO," forcing Rachel to quickly shut down her Instagram account. HA. HA. JUSTICE IS SERVED. Again, THANK YOU to our one true Queen of the Universe, Beyoncé: Forever may she reign. (And Hubby Kip? Tonight you're switching off Game of Thrones and giving your full, undivided attention to Lemonade. Hope you like rubbing feet.)