According to Jo, "Crap Celebrity Spot of the Week" is an old column title from some UK tabloid that they love and miss. A cursory Google search doesn't turn anything up, although of course that doesn't mean anything these days, because Google has stopped being a search engine and started being a glossolalia-generating reminder that life is stern and life is earnest and you'd better work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, and anyhow I don't like to call Jo a liar outright on our shared website, so I won't.
The basic idea is that "Readers submit past sightings of celebrities who do not interest them personally and explain what happened." Here's mine.
I used to wait tables at this really popular café right next to the train station in Menlo Park. It was a local institution, and they had this incredible drink called the frosted mocha that came with homemade whipped cream; I snuck free food to all of my friends and spent most of my tips on high-end European cigarettes at the fancy tobacconist next door, now sadly closed. Sometimes Dave Franco would come in, but almost never when I was working. "Dave Franco came in yesterday," one of my coworkers would occasionally tell me at the start of my shift. "You just missed him, he came in right after you clocked out." Of course they might have been messing with me, but I don't think they were. This was before the 21 Jump Street remake, so I didn't have much of a frame of reference for him. Nobody told me what he ordered or anything.
[Image via Wikimedia Commons]