Spoiler Alert: "The Walking Dead" Episode "Clear"

We warned you last night, and we'll take a moment to warn you again:

Serious spoiler alert in progress for The Walking Dead, episode "Clear." Consider yourself warned!

All the wusses gone? Good. Let's get down to biznass.

Oh hey Rick, you still crazy?

Oh hey Rick, you still crazy?

First off, props to The Walking Dead writers for giving us an episode that doesn't have to do with Woodbury, anyone from Woodbury, Merle or (thank you to the powers that be) Andrea. In fact, I'm calling it now, Andrea kicks the bucket this season. Her character is done, quite frankly.

I'm part of a trio that's been discussing the goings on and the "guess what happens next" of The Walking Dead, though lately it's just been a duo (Yeah Mike, keep using your newborn daughter as an excuse, let Randi and I fend for ourselves, thanks!) For the past few weeks, I've been the one to continuously bring up "But wait, remember the father (Morgan) and son from season 1 that take Rick in? The one with the walker wife/mother? When are they coming back?"

And by the past few weeks, I mean I've been asking this since season 2.

Last night, I finally got my question answered. Eat it, non-believers.


As we all saw, Morgan has gone a little off the deep end, but I don't blame him. My heart broke hearing how his son became a midnight snack at the hands of his wife, especially when he asks Rick if he ever found Carl. Awkward much?

My trio (along with most of the internet) tends to hate on Carl, and we had a "Well, don't I feel like an asshole" moment after we saw what Carl goes through just to get a picture of him, his dad and his mom, all so his baby sister could see what mommy looked like. Way to go Carl, way to go.

Also, let's give a round of applause for Sass Queen Michonne:


However, Morgan's refusal to join Rick left us feeling like this:


Fingers crossed that they keep banging out episodes with last night's level of greatness.

Justin Bieber Had the Worst Birthday Ever

Happy Birthday to Justin Bieber, who turned 19 last Friday!

He is all about showing how grown up he is now - smoking weed, wearing his pants lower everyday, and walking around shirtless at every opportunity! Hell yeah dude, that's how you show them you are getting more mature!


Bieber spent his Bday in London, and has been bad-mouthing the club Le Cirque Du Soir ever since.

The celebration weekend started on Thursday night, when Biebs was photographed (note: shirtless, pants hanging) after his show in Birminghan. He was heading over to British Luxury London Club, where he partied until 4 a.m. Not bad, not bad.

 Baby-abs everywhere! Bielibers: I'm SINGLE, come and get me!

 Baby-abs everywhere! Bielibers: I'm SINGLE, come and get me!

For his actual birthday bash, he had planned dinner followed by partying at the club Le Cirque Du Soir. Known for ALWAYS tweeting pictures and updates, he tweeted "big night ahead."

Not too much later, he sent out another tweet saying "worst birthday" (did anyone else smell whining here?)

The club and Biebs are telling different stories.

While Bieber says the club sucked, the club's representative says that part of Justin's party was underage or failed to present identification. Bieber then preceded to leave the club. 

Still upset, Biebs just tweeted today: "The funny moment when people believe I brought underage people to a club.. U think Will is letting his 14 year old in a club, I don't think so.. 2nd I love how the club wanted to give the press another reason to why we didn't stay at their weak ass club so they wouldn't look bad for me walking in and right back out."

Come on Justin, let's do a little recap: you are 19, have girls kissing the floor you step on, had all your friends fly to London exclusively for your bday...and got this from your dad:

Bad-ass or not? Biebs' dad knows what a 19 year-old really needs.

Bad-ass or not? Biebs' dad knows what a 19 year-old really needs.

Quit bitching, bro. Just think, while Selena is getting all sorts of post-break-up support tweets, you will be plowing though girls even more with this babe. Worst birthday ever, indeed!

Stuff That Matters: Learning to Let Go

At Insticator, we love to make jokes about our favorite TV shows and celebrities as much as the next person. However, we're big believers on touching upon issues that really matter to us, and maybe you as well. That's why we're starting a series called "Stuff That Matters,"  where we'll discuss, well...you get it from the title.

We hope you gain a little something from these stories and share with us some of your own.

Growing up, I was lucky in the sense that I never had to experience a close personal loss. My grandfather passed away a few months after I was born, and my other grandparents had passed on before I made my entrance into the world. I felt sad for my friends who lost their grandparents, because I could see the bond they had developed over the years, but had never made that attachment myself.

Because of this, I don't take bad news well. To this day, someone starts to tell me bad news and I immediately clamp up. Heart rate goes through the roof, I get extremely anxious, the works. That's not to say anyone is really good at hearing bad news, but I treat every case like the worst possible scenario.

Which brings me to the heart of my story, about learning to let go.

Two of the coolest people. Ever.

Two of the coolest people. Ever.

That's Arti and Vicki (Real names Arthur and Veronique), two people who did a lot more than they'll ever know. I met Arti years ago back at my dance studio when he became my Jazz teacher. I'll never forget when Arti came up to me and asked me to be his Hip Hop student teacher. I sat there, jaw dropped, all "Do I look like I have a Hip Hop bone in my body?"

Apparently, I did. Because of that moment, I got to meet his girlfriend, Vicki. During my first few days of student teaching, I was a nervous wreck. I constantly feared the younger students and my peers wouldn't respect me if I couldn't do the moves right or even run a class when Arti stepped out for a few minutes. But Vicki was always there, cheering me on, helping me, more or less, to chill the hell out.

Arti, always pushing us to do things we thought we couldn't do and proving us wrong every single time!

Arti, always pushing us to do things we thought we couldn't do and proving us wrong every single time!

The thing is, Arti and Vicki weren't just dancers to us. Whether they liked it or not, they became the older brother and sister some of us needed. I saw lots of kids walk into that studio who were headed down a dangerous path, but talking to Arti and Vicki helped them to correct their paths before it was too late. We were a family.

In June of 2005, I performed my last show with the studio, as I was headed off to college later that  year. Never one to stick around for long goodbyes, I passed Arti and Vicki and gave them a wave, saying "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'll see you Monday!"

Monday came and I was asked to sub Arti's class. Tuesday came, and after teaching my class (I forgot to mention, I got my own Jazz class to teach, off the recommendation of, you guessed it, Arti) and as I breezed out the door, I jokingly told the front desk "If Arti is going to be out tomorrow, tell him I'm not covering for his butt!" The receptionist asked "Why, what have you heard?" and I just made a joke about how I had to cover for him that Monday. I took maybe five steps out of the studio door before my mother pulled me aside and said "I'm so sorry I have to tell you this."

My world still stops every time I think of that moment. 

Arti and Vicki had been bike riding that Monday afternoon, when Edwin Jones, on a suspended license and asleep at the wheel, crashed into them. Arti died instantly, while Vicki died several hours later at the hospital. 

I beat myself up for a long time after that, remembering my last words to them. You hear a lot of people regret their last words to loved ones, because you don't think it's the last time you're going to see them.

Then there is Edwin Jones.

I passionately hated this man. How dare he take away two people, so beautiful inside and out, from this world. I wanted him dead. I didn't care how, I wanted him dead and most of my dance-mates agreed. He didn't have to sit on phone call after phone call like I did, having to confirm the news to other students and listen to their cries of anguish. I wanted him to suffer and jail wasn't good enough for him.


This first article in Stuff That Matters isn't about the hazards of driving under the influence. It's about being able to let go, a process that took a while for me to really understand.

It started several weeks later, when Vicki's brother, Jean-Marc, said he forgave Edwin in a newspaper article. While we loved Vicki like a sister, here was her actual brother openly showing forgiveness. After Vicki's wake, our crew went to a nearby McDonald's and we ran into Jean-Marc who cracked a few jokes with us. I thought "Here is a person I hope to be as strong as one day."

The rest, albeit slowly, started to fall into place. I had to accept I couldn't turn back time and give Arti and Vicki a huge hug and tell them how much they meant to me. I learned that it didn't matter, because our everyday actions did this. 

I finally, finally, stopped wishing death upon Edwin. Not only wouldn't it not bring my friends back, but I knew deep in my heart that it was something they wouldn't have wished for.

I learned to let go of the hate and the anger, but that doesn't mean I let go of Arti and Vicki. I smile when I eat Reese's Peanut Butter Cups and Orange Gatorade (Arti's pre-class favorite) or when I wear a daring shade of lipstick (a Vicki must!) All things that I swore I would never want to look at again, I embrace and remember the good connected with them.

Ending on a good note, here's the music video for Michael Jacksons "Bad." Arti is the one in the orange pants, yellow tank and grey hat. 


Charlie Sheen Wants To Be Lindsay Lohan's Mentor

File this under "How Could This Go Wrong?"


To be fair, Sheen has already done a great deal to help LiLo out. He gave her $100,000 to help pay her taxes (Hey Charlie, pay my taxes too?) and gave her a guest spot on his show Anger Management. Lord knows this girl needs all the screen time she can get that doesn't include her sitting in court.

Well bless Charlie's heart, because now he's telling TMZ he's ready to step up and be her mentor! If Charlie can get himself off the booze, drugs and whores, then he's the man to get Lindsay to stop being a drunk and drugged up whore, right?

I have a kinship with somebody [Lindsay] who clearly needs a mentor, whether she wants one or not.

She can continue to hang out with her dress shredding club buddies, or turn to me for some advice from a guy who’s been down the road as well as every other side trail on the journey.

If she listens, she’ll win. If she doesn’t, that’s on her.

I love her, I respect her, and I’ve never laid a finger on her that wasn’t on film. How ya like me now, America?
— Charlie Sheen

We're slightly disappointed Charlie didn't throw in a "#WINNING" during that little speech. Also, was anyone accusing Charlie of laying a finger or any other parts on her? That statement seemed a little out of place...

Anyone with half a brain recognizes LiLo should take his offer, but Lindsay is not exactly known as the Queen of Good Decisions. She turned down a $500K+ offer for Dancing with the Stars, which made us scratch our heads. She's turning down TV time AND money that she desperately needs? That must have been the drugs talking.

We say Lindsay should take Charlie up on his offer, but sadly, she'll turn it down and insist she doesn't need any help.

Oh, honey...you need all the help you can get.