<![CDATA[Gawker: defamer, holy shit]]> http://tags.gawker.com/assets/base/img/thumbs140x140/gawker.com.png <![CDATA[Gawker: defamer, holy shit]]> http://gawker.com/tag/defamer/holyshit http://gawker.com/tag/defamer/holyshit <![CDATA[God Refuses to Spring For Money-Man Raffaello Follieri's $21 Million Bail]]> A tough week is seemingly getting tougher by the hour for Raffaelo Follieri, the deposed Anne Hathaway beau whose surplus of unused "CFO, The Vatican" business cards are the least of his mounting problems. There's also the positive drug test, the mysterious "illness and subsequent hospitalization," and the whole problem of house detention — which he could get around with the mere $21 million bail laid down Tuesday in court. Or the 29-year-old Italian could just save the cash, sit down with the feds, and see what might work to avoid the charges' maximum sentence of life in prison:

At court, Follieri ... appeared angry, often shaking his head or interrupting his attorney to tell her what to say, the Associated Press reports.
At one point, when a prosecutor accused him of owing various debts, he yelled out, "We paid that," according to the AP.

"In short, your honor, he is a con man, and he was able to defraud a lot of people out of a lot of money over a long period of time," Prosecutor Reed Michael Brodsky said. (Brodsky had asked the judge to deny Follieri bail, claiming Follieri had the money and connections to flee. He also said Follieri should be deported because he is not a U.S. citizen.)

Indeed, Follieri is allowed to leave the house only for legal, medical and religious reasons, all of which seem to apply these days: Both his physical condition and his legal future are reportedly unknown. And for a man whose ATM receipts are essentially dicta from God Himself, it may take more than an ankle bracelet to monitor Follieri's places of worship.

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<![CDATA[Jackson Getting Really Tired Of These Motherfucking Shampoo Bottles On His Motherfucking Plane]]>

It's really comforting to know that even in these uncertain, pants-crappingly terrifying times, we can always rely on Samuel L. Jackson to ensure our skies are safe from even the most cutting-edge of airborne threats.

Our favorite scene is the one where Jackson discovers an unattended box full of Herbal Essences products underneath someone's seat, then realizing that his clean-shaven head is an inadequate testing ground, holds down a stewardess and lathers a liberal amount of shampoo into her hair to prove it's not from an explosive batch.

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