June 1: Drug-addled model Anna Nicole Smith confirms on her website that she is pregnant. "I'm happy," Anna Nicole insists, "I'm very, very happy about it." Then someone reminds her what "it" is and she begins shrieking and running around in circles.
June 2: Super-beautiful couple Matthew McConaughey and Penelope Cruz have broken up. Now we'll never get to see how gorgeous their babies would've been. We will, however, soon get to see Matthew riding bikes with Lance Armstrong, which is even better.
June 5: Lindsay Lohan drives Vogue editor Anna Wintour batty at an awards dinner by continually getting up from the table to powder her nose. Everyone assumes later that Lindsay was actually snorting coke during her numerous bathroom excursions, but Lindsay refutes this, saying, "Really guys. I haven't snorted coke since I was twelve."
June 9: TMZ has acquired video of Paris Hilton ramming a parked car with her SUV and speeding off without leaving a note, a misdemeanor in California. The world is shocked to discover that a celebutard could be so irresponsible.
June 12: Paris Hilton makes a scene outside the club Butter when she approaches Lindsay Lohan, who has been seen going around with Hilton's ex Stavros Niarchos, and screams, "I can't believe you and Stavros. You are ridiculous." To which Lohan replies, "We are all ridiculous, Paris, for we are but motes floating through a great and mysterious void, and our human concerns seem pale and meaningless when compared to this infinite space. Now fuck off."
June 13: Britney Spears and Madonna are no longer friends, now that Britney has broken off her Kabbalah studies to concentrate on dropping her kids. Madonna, who spent thousands of dollars trying to brainwash Britney into following her looney beliefs, is said to be angry. And of course we all know that the point of Kabbalah is that we should shove things down each other's throats then get mad when it doesn't take.
June 15: Model Kate Moss is in the clear after an announcement by British prosecutors that they will not bring charges against her over a 2005 incident in which she allegedly snorted cocaine in a London recording studio. Moss is now free to return to her life of being a coke-sniffing whore with a junkie wash-out for a boyfriend.
June 19: A former Green Beret who claimed to have had a sexual encounter with American Idol loser Clay Aiken now says he's sorry he ever said anything about the affair, but stops short of actually retracting the original statement. The Green Beret becomes even sorrier when he's jumped by some of Aiken's rabid fans, beaten, anally raped and crucified on a couple of nailed-together telephone poles.
June 22: Midget actress Reese Witherspoon is suing the tabloid Star for falsely reporting that she was pregnant. It turns out Reese was just walking around with a grape under her shirt.
June 23: Sienna Miller redefines skanky by being photographed going around like this in public:
June 25: Actress Nicole Kidman and musician Keith Urban wed in Sydney, Australia. A short, pudgy fellow with a big nose is reported to be lurking around in the bushes outside, but when he's captured by security, a beam of light descends from the sky and carries him away.
June 27: Loud-mouthed former fat-ass Star Jones has been fired from her job on the ABC show The View. Fans are relieved to know that Jones is finally gone, and hope the producers hire someone more low-key to replace her, someone who would never in a million years get in trouble for making fun of Chinese people, or get in a prolonged pissing match with Donald Trump.
June 29: Britney Spears follows in the footsteps of such illustrious personages as Demi Moore by posing naked and pregnant for the cover of a magazine. People all over the world are overcome with a sudden craving for milk while passing news-stands, then become ill and begin vomiting profusely.
Ryan Seacrest is hosting tonight's New Year's coverage on ABC, along with old fossil Dick Clark, and is hoping for a kiss from performer Christina Aguilera at the stroke of midnight.
"Last year I got lucky with Mariah (Carey)," said Seacrest, "so hopefully at that moment she's right there."
There are so many things wrong with that last statement. First off, there's nothing lucky about being kissed by Mariah Carey. You're lucky if she doesn't fall over on top of you and crush your spine. Second, everyone knows you're gay Ryan, so stop trying to act all straight and shit. And third, a kiss from Christina Aguilera? Might as well slide a round into a revolver, give the old cylinder a spin and stick it to your forehead.
By the way, Crabbie will not be watching Ryan and Dick on ABC. Crabbie will not be watching any of the New Year's coverage, nor will he be attending any celebrations of any kind. Crabbie has sort of a tradition on New Year's, which involves large volumes of alcohol and whatever pills he can get his hands on. So Crabbie won't be precisely conscious when the stroke of midnight hits. And with any luck he won't be conscious at all again until maybe Thursday. So, if you're the one who finds me passed out on your stoop this year - well, just throw a blanket over me, okay? And try not to let your dog piss in my hair.
Michael Jackson hangs out with black people at the funeral for music legend James Brown. Is he wearing gloves or are those his hands? Hold on a second while I let this creeped-out shiver pass.
Here Michael pauses to plant one on James Brown's cadaver. I bet Michael thought if he kissed James it would bring him back to life. Either that or he just enjoys making out with the deceased. Hey, where's that picture of him kissing Elizabeth Taylor?
Paris Hilton takes time out from making a skanktacular spectacle of herself by visiting some babies at the Royal North Shore Children's Hospital in Sydney. Please God, tell me there aren't any orphans in that place. And if there are, tell me that Australia has really, really strict rules about adoption. And please tell me there's some kind of invisible screen protecting that baby from Paris's fumes.
By the way, Paris - in the future, hon, when you're trying to make like you give a damn about someone other than yourself, you might want to avoid looking into the camera in a way that screams photo-op. It sorts of destroys the illusion, you know?
It was the defining celebrity moment of 2006 - Mel Gibson's DUI arrest in California, and the subsequent news of his anti-Semitic, sexist tirade. I mean, this was Mel Freaking Gibson - the guy from Lethal Weapon for Christ's sake, the guy from Mad Max (gotta love those leather pants). A guy who, at one time, could've laid claim to being the biggest movie-star on earth. Who won Oscars for Braveheart, and had one of the highest-grossers of all time with Passion of the Christ. This wasn't some z-lister getting drunk and rowdy, this was Hollywood royalty for God's sake. And we were looking at his mugshot. We were hearing about how he got liquored up and drove too fast, and got pulled over, and went on a rant against Jews while being hauled to the pokey, and called some female cop "Sugartits." I mean, this kind of shit didn't happen to Mel Gibson - it happened to Andy Dick or Nick Nolte or Courtney Love. Not Mel Gibson. But, sadly, we had to admit it - Mel Gibson was a dirtbag. Much as we wanted to deny it, chalk it up to one bad night, we had to face the reality that Mel Gibson probably really was that anti-Semitic, that screwed up. And in the end, that altered perception is what makes Mel Gibson the biggest loser of the year - not that he's probably lost money over it, and will have to go on for years answering questions about it, but just the simple fact that, now, every time we see a Mel Gibson movie, we'll think about that mugshot, we'll imagine that dark night when Mel let the movie-star facade slip away and showed us what was truly in his heart. And we'll make bad jokes. We'll yell out "Sugartits" every time he interacts with a female co-star. We'll snicker every time he acts crazy, thinking to ourselves that it's not really acting. We'll no longer be able to give ourselves over to the illusion of the character, but will get caught up on that image of Mel, slobbering drunk, in the backseat of a police car saying the Jews were responsible for all the wars on earth and asking the arresting officer if he was a Jew, and saying that he owned Malibu. The tragedy of the whole thing being not that Mel has lost prestige or job opportunities, but that we've all lost Mel.
This was going to be Federline's spot. Federline the would-be rapper, the guy so desperate to be in the limelight it seemed he'd show up anywhere, perform any inane stunt to get noticed. The guy who, when Britney dumped him, seemed on the fast-track to total obscurity (at last). But something happened on the way to sole Federline possession of the penultimate spot on the roll-call of losers - Britney started carrying on like Tara Reid, Lindsay Lohan and Janice Dickinson all rolled into one. Britney, the gum-chomping, baby-dropping tart, the lovable nitwit, began making a cooch-baring spectacle of herself, out-trashing even the shameless Federline; out-trashing him to the point that, after awhile, it started looking like Federline may have been the classy one in that relationship after all. Britney's antics - hanging out with Paris Hilton, getting drunk, bouncing from one sleazy man to the next - were enough to cause a re-assessment of the loser-list. Did Federline truly deserve to reside alone in the runner-up position? Was not Britney at least as worthy of the dubious distinction as her erstwhile partner-in-tackiness? There was no choice, as Crabbie saw it, but to place Britney right alongside Federline, to pay homage to both of them, losers-in-arms, linked forever in infamy like Leopold and Loeb, Sacco and Vanzetti, Whitney and Bobby. So, congratulations to Britney for making it in just under the wire. And to Britney's cooch - thanks honey for all the extra traffic. Have a douche on me.
So how are we feeling today, Saddam? Oh, a little achy in the throat area, huh? And otherwise a little cold and stiff. Well, being hanged by the neck until you are dead will do that to a person (don't click this if you can't stomach watching someone die). Of course, not a lot of people feel sorry for you, Saddam, what with all the Kurd-gassing you did, and the rape-rooms, and the rest of that not-funny shit - not to mention the fact that you had a relationship with Satan. All right, so the Satan part didn't actually happen, but it might as well have, right? I mean, when you fuck with the good old U.S.-of-A. (and more specifically any member of the Bush family not named Billy), you're the next thing to the devil (cause we control the media - haha screw you). Of course, lately, you'd become something of an after-thought, hadn't you? Sure, you tried forcing yourself back into the headlines by ranting and raving at your trial, but in the end it was all for nought - we had long-since put you on the back-burner, consumed as we were with our big election, and all the violence in your wacked-out country, and of course Britney's equipment (which you probably didn't get to see there in your cell - too bad for you). In the end, no one really cared that much, until you actually got snuffed, and even then you were little more than a distraction, a grim pre-New Year's diversion. Soon we'll all be drinking, and partying it up, and then 2007 will begin, and Britney will flash something, and some star will get liquored-up and say something stupid, and Lindsay Lohan will break one limb or another, and no one will even remember that you ever existed. Sad.
Lindsay Lohan, at the tender age of 20, has already conquered the ultra-competitive world of skankotainment. So which mountain should the multi-talented former teen-queen tackle next? How about politics?
Sound insane? Why? She already has a great connection with Al Gore (some may call that stalking, but it's all semantics). And she has already garnered interest as a possible candidate from one apparently legitimate political organization, the Independence Party of New York State (they must be legitimate - they have their own website).
Frank Morano, an official within the party, is calling upon Lohan to make a bid for New York City Public Advocate, a job second-in-line only the mayor, or, if that's not to her liking, perhaps a run at the state legislature instead. Writes Morano (apparently addressing Lohan directly), "As Albany is currently a cesspool of corruption, badly in need of reform, you may also want to consider a bid for the state legislature. Many celebrities have made the transition from Hollywood to politics, ranging from Arnold Schwarzenegger and Jesse Ventura to Sonny Bono and Ronald Reagan. Few if any, though, had the enormous potential that you possess."
Hmm. Interesting. Lindsay Lohan for New York state legislature. Well, I guess I can see where Frank is coming from with this one. I mean, Lindsay is a very intelligent, mature young person, and you need lots of dynamic personalities like that in politics...
What the fuck am I talking about? This is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard in my life!
Frank Morano - you are either the king of irony or you are on crack. At least, I hope it's one of those two things. Because if not, well, I fear for your sanity friend.
Also, if I were a member of the Independence Party of New York State, which touts itself on its website as New York's third-largest party, I might seriously consider calling for Mr. Morano's ouster. Because if he keeps doing shit like this, the party is going to have less credibility than whatever group supported Gary Coleman during the California run-off. I mean, all right, maybe it was some kind of publicity-grab, an attempt to make a lame headline - political parties do this shit from time-to-time. But Lindsay Lohan? Couldn't you have tried suggesting someone a tad less absurd Frank? Like Mary Carey? Or Whitney Houston? Or some random bellowing insane person dragged in off the street?
And, you know, the sad thing about this is that, when Lindsay gets wind of it, she's actually going to think about doing it. Because that's how the brain of one of these twats works. Everything that pops into it, at least for a short time, sounds like a good idea. That's how they end up in so much trouble. It takes them at least four days to figure out how stupid something is, but by that time, it's often too late - they've already had sex with Brandon Davis, or gotten an anchor tattooed on their ass, or written a rambling, nonsensical e-mail expressing their condolences on the death of a legendary film director. This is what separates the Lohans of the world from the normal people - we know almost right away when something is dumb (which doesn't always stop us from doing it, but at least we don't have any illusions about the silly shit we're about to get into), while the Lohans, addled and egomaniacal, assume that, if it's their brain thinking it, then it has to be brilliant.
Of course, on the other hand, if a chimpanzee can be president...
Sub-literate strumpet Paris Hilton continues making a nuisance of herself in Sydney. Hey, I've got an idea - let's have Paris box a kangaroo. Nah, she'll probably just try to fuck it.
By the way, the little sack Paris is holding up? That's where she keeps Perez's balls.
CNN is reporting that former Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein may be executed tonight before 10pm ET. Wonder what Saddam's last meal will be? I know what mine would be if I were about to head for the gallows - a nice big mouthful of sixteen-year old Malaysian boy-meat.
My last suck before the end. Then I'd spit the cum right in the devil's face.
Fuck you Satan!
Seriously though - poor Saddam. One minute you're king shit of turd mountain, and the next you're penduluming slowly back and forth at the end of a rope with a big reflex-boner and a load in your pants. Kind of a downer. Course, it was his own fault. He never should've messed with those Bushes. Those are some vindictive mofos. Just ask Noriega. He was our boy in Panama when daddy Bush was head of the CIA, then he gets on our nerves and it's like, "Noriega is a drug trafficker, so we have to arrest him." Of course we didn't mind him trafficking drugs when he was doing what we told him! And President daddy-Bush got so pissed he sent the Marines in to chase down his old pal Manuel, and blast Guns 'n' Roses at his hideout till he came out with his hands in the air (about three seconds of that shrieking bullshit would've been enough to get me out). Saddam would've been better off staying in his palaces watching The Godfather, listening to Sinatra and getting sucky-sucky from his kidnapped harem girls. But you know those dictators. They just can't keep their hands off other people's countries.
Here's a little item sure to warm the hearts of all those who'd like to see Britney Spears fall into an industrial-sized meat-grinder:
Britney, while hanging out with Paris Hilton at Area (don't know if this was before or after Paris started calling Britney "The Animal"), went to light up a ciggy, but accidentally touched flame to the filter end and started sucking on it before she realized what she'd done. Paris, aghast, told Britney that when you smoked a cigarette backward like that it caused the blood supply to your nethers to get cut off, rendering you incapable of ever experiencing an orgasm again. Funny, huh? Well, not to Britney, who actually believed it, and spent the next ten minutes running around the club in horror, asking people if they'd ever heard the same thing before. Witmeister Paris finally let Britney off the hook by telling her it was a joke, and Britney replied by slapping Paris playfully on the arm.
Damn, Paris is one cold bitch. And Britney - maybe if you run you can catch the turnip truck back to Palookaville.
First Julia Roberts couldn't get knocked up to save her life, now she gets a bun in the oven any time someone brushes lightly against her hip.
Yes, cinematic-sweetheart-turned-crazy-old-bag-lady Julia Roberts is preggers yet again, not with twins this time apparently, but a single little fetus that will some time in the near future come out into the world, all blue and icky and its little mouth gasping for air. Gosh, what a miracle (if by "miracle" you mean "revolting experience"). Of course, Julia will then have to name the baby, and given that her first two were hung with the handles Hazel and Finn, the poor little sucker will probably end up beind called something equally antiquated and vaguely literary, Mordecai perhaps or Aloisius, or if it's a girl maybe Hester or Eustacia.
Well, look on the bright-side little spawn of Julia - you could've been born to Michael Jackson and wound up being named after whatever household object happened to be at hand ("Blanket, meet your new brother Dehumidifier.").
Is Jennifer Aniston considered a hot item? I guess she must be, cause Steve Bing wants to sleep wtih her, and homeboy's got over a billion bills in the bank.
Bing, who allegedly also made advances toward Pamela Anderson recently (don't need a billion dollars to nail that skank; a couple glasses of cheap booze and an empty subway car ought to do it), reportedly approached the newly-single Aniston while she was dining with friends in West Hollywood and gave her his number. Supposedly, Aniston knows the guy from somewhere, so it's not a totally out of leftfield advance (the way it would be if, say, Kevin Federline suddenly went after her). No word yet on whether Jen intends to take Bing up on his offer, but if I were her, I'd go for it. Guy's loaded. And Jen ain't exactly a spring-chicken anymore, so making money in the movie biz might soon become a problem.
By the way, the same story also says Lance Armstrong wants a piece of Aniston.
Okay Lance. You can stop pretending to be straight now.
Looks like Ashlee Simpson's gone and snagged herself a new man (Jessica must be soooo jealous). Don't know what the guy's name is and don't particularly care. Looks like one of those creepy rock-n-roll hooligans to me. The somber attire, the silly doodles on his arms. And what's with the dog? Don't tell me Ashlee's one of these obnoxious knuckleheads who drags their pooch everywhere they go. Hey nitwit, you may love your dog but the rest of us find it annoying. Leave it at home.
Eva Longoria attends Harrods January Sale Opening in London. Eva really likes dogs. Sadly, this pooch is not the lowest form of mammal she's made-out with. That would be J.C. Chasez.
Ooh, I smell three-way. And something else. Uh, Eva, might want to check your sleeve hon.
I don't know if Clay Aiken is gay or not (!), but I do know one thing about him for sure - he's a giant mouthful of super-sized extra-cheese slathered-in-secret-sauce shitburger.
What Crabbie? Clay Aiken? America's not-gay sweetheart? How can you say something like that about our little Claykins? A man who brings so much joy and sexual ambiguity into the world?
Well, I'm sorry to disillusion you Clayheads, but it's true - your American Idol (runner-up) is nothing but a prick. He promises to make little children's dreams come true, then smashes them like Rosie O'Donnell falling on a coffee table. Just ask Joshua Willard, the pubescent winner of a singing competition whose prize was to perform with Aiken at his Holiday concert. Willard, supposedly because he intended singing Stevie Wonder's Superstition instead of a holiday song, was told by Aiken's people that he wouldn't be allowed to go on. And it turns out that Willard wasn't the only disappointed youngster at the concert, as several other scheduled performers had their hopes dashed at the last minute. Of course, Aiken's slimy reps tried glossing over the whole fiasco by saying the kids were never promised they could perform with Clay.
So Clay Aiken thinks he's too good to be seen on-stage with a bunch of nobodies. Apparently Mr. Snootiepants forgets that, not long ago, he was the nobody, who would've been lucky to get work mopping floors at Costco. And as for Aiken's reps saying they never promised the kids they could sing: How come Joshua Willard was allowed to rehearse his Steve Wonder number before being told his performance was cancelled? Obviously, somebody thought the kid was going to be going on. And if that wasn't the case, then he should've been told beforehand, not after getting his number all ready. Shame on you, handlers of Clay Aiken. And shame on you Clay Aiken for turning into yet another phony, fancy-pants celebrity who thinks his shit doesn't smell.
Oh, and speaking of shit and other things ass-related - did you know Clay Aiken has a childish fascination with flatulence? That's another report coming out of the Holiday concert - that Clay, during soundcheck, would pretend he had cut one every time some feedback came out of the speakers. Real classy Clay. You fart-faking, kid-trashing, closet-living feces-patty.
Madonna and Angelina Jolie have made adopting babies a new fad among celebs. And the next to jump on the baby-grabbing bandwagon? Possibly Britney Spears.
No, I'm not shitting you - Britney Spears really wants to adopt a baby. According to the story, Britney fell in love with this little Bali tsunami-orphan named Wang (too perfect) after she saw him on TV, and became his sponsor. Now she's thinking about making Wang her adopted son, and has even gone so far as to ask Madonna her advice on the matter.
A source for Britney says she is very serious about adopting little Wang (little Wang - heh), but I personally would tend to doubt this. I mean, how serious can she really be about adoption when every time you see her she's bombed out of her mind, with puke all down the front of her clothes? Doesn't she know that people are watching her behavior? And of course I don't even have to mention Britney's various run-ins with the authorities over highly-publicized instances of child endangerment. I mean, my God, little Sean Preston must've been dropped on his head at least five times this year alone. The kid's taken so many blows to the skull that he talks like Anna Nicole Smith, and he hasn't even started doing drugs yet (mommy told him he has to wait until he's six).
My advice for Britney would be to forget about this loopy scheme of hers and concentrate on walking. That's hard enough. Then when she gets that down, she can move on to basic child-rearing skills, like not holding the baby upside down, not giving him slugs of whiskey to get him to sleep, and not teaching him to hold her hair while she vomits. Only after she's mastered these things should she revisit the adoption scheme. Of course, by then she'll be seventy, but what the hell? At least she won't have to worry about changing little Wang's diapers (and of course he won't be a little Wang anymore, which is good, because big Wangs are always better than little ones).
Paris Hilton is in Australia, because she's hosting a New Year's Party down there (what, Australia doesn't have its own filthy skanks?). As part of the publicity blitz, Paris donned a bikini and stepped under a shower. The kid on the left with the big ears and the mullet looks like he's ejaculating into his Underoos, doesn't he?
Paris Hilton - she inspires early puberty in Australian pre-teens.
The feud between Rosie O'Donnell and Donald Trump just keeps going, mostly because these two shameless publicity-hounds won't let it die.
Indignant Rosie's most recent volley came in the form of yet another dopey post on her blog. Quoting the modern-day Emily Dickinson:
so what happens
when u say the emperor has no clothes
the comb over goes ballistic
via phone to mr king
i imagine it is interesting
as celeb feuds tend 2 b
so here r my thoughts
didnt u tube
i have no time 2 make art now
i am only off friday
which is never enuf
the pipes get full
bits of sludge
clog the flow
so tiny books
express in torn images
i was raised reading ms magazine
i remember the burning of bras
as women demanded equality
where women were paraded around
judged valuable or not
by old white men
it is always old white men
they added a talent portion
and gave away college degrees
they evolved - beauty pageants
and eventually - nearly faded away
remember the seventies
a young girl in nyc
meets a pimp
he cons her into a life of illusion
she works for him
no fun - no fucking - no future
she is owned
when she sneaks out -
to party the night away
he roughs her up a bit
shames her in front of the others
teaches her to behave
for his own benefit
and just when we lost all hope
cagney and lacey showed up
they cuff the pimp
they free the girl
marybeth and christine
be friends with a pimp
this is reality tv
like it or not
same same same
as vivi says
If I read that right, Rosie just called Donald Trump a pimp, and is waiting for Cagney and Lacey to come beat him up.
Damn Donald. You're not going to let the fat slobbering cow get away with that, are you? Of course not. Quoth the Trumpster:
"Rosie got mentally beaten up by me, because she's a mental midget, a low-life. I think she's got a death wish. It's too bad a degenerate is able to get away with things like that."
Eh, I don't know Donald. You called her stupid before, and I think you also called her a low-life. Might want to move on to some newer insults. Say she drowns puppies or pretends to help old ladies across the street so she can lift their purses. I mean, if we're going to just make crazy shit up, we might just as well go all the way with it, right?
If you need any more help Donald, I'm available. Like you, I hate Rosie O'Donnell. Together I think we can destroy her (or at least make her cry).
When I was but a budding little Crabster, my degenerate daddy always used to tell me it was a good idea to have a fall-back in case my chosen career didn't work out - you know, just a little something I could do on the off-chance that I wasn't cut out to be an astronaut, or a movie-star, or a male escort. Of course I never listened to the bastard, but that's not the point - it's good advice anyway (as I found out later in life, when I realized that I was never going to be able to get by on my looks, and would have to actually learn how to do something useful, like type). Apparently, Lindsay Lohan has had this wisdom imparted to her at some point in her life as well, given the display of talents she put on the other night at Scores West in New York - a display which did not include typing, but did include pole-dancing and DJ-ing.
Yes, Lindsay is all ready for life in case the acting thing doesn't work out. She can be a DJ, cause apparently she has mad skills (either that or people are being really nice to her). And she has some wild stripper-pole moves as well, at least according to the other topless dancers at the club (and we assume they know what they're talking about).
"She'll make a good stripper," opined Brook, a Scores West dancer. " She's a natural."
And another dancer, Katia, said, "She was big tipper, and I think that she was great."
Of course Lindsay has been working on her stripper moves for her role in the new movie I Know Who Killed Me. And there was a bit of controversy recently when Lindsay, referring to members of that hallowed profession, e-mailed, "They're all whores, they're all whores...except for some, obviously." But Lindsay, never one to let a problem like that fester, apologized to the Scores girls personally, and was rewarded for her contrition with lap-dances.
Hmm...DJ-ing, stripper-poles, lap-dances from topless women - I wonder if the newly-sober Lindsay partook of any alcohol during this wild evening?
"It was hot," said a spy for Page 6. "But while everybody was drinking, Lindsay was not. It was strictly Perrier for her."
Really? Perrier? What happened to the Voss? Guess she switched brands. That fickle Lindsay.
Jessica Alba attempts to hide her face from photographers with a magazine. Apparently Jessica didn't realize there were photogs on both sides of her. By the way, it totally looks like she's about to make-out with that picture of Uma Thurman. I think this is sufficient grounds for us to start a rumor that Alba is a lesbian.
Lindsay's lil' sis Ali blows out some candles at the party for her new album, Lohan Holiday. What do those candles signify anyway? The number of days until Ali is seen staggering out of Hyde with no undies on and puke-stains all down the front of her shirt?
This is Jessica Simpson in her new movie, How To Look Like A Mental Patient Without Really Trying (actually it's called Blonde Ambition, but I like my title better). It's a good thing Jessica's wearing that helmet. Wouldn't want anything to happen to her head. You know, cause then she wouldn't be able to wear hats.
I'm trying to hold it together as best I can right now, but honestly, I don't know if I'm going to make it. So I'll just try and get through it. Okay. Here goes...
Paris and Britney...oh God, this is so hard. Okay. Just breathe....
Paris and Britney...hmmmph....
Paris and Brit...
Oh God! Paris and Britney aren't friends anymore! Cause Paris got mad when Britney said she didn't want to hang out anymore and now Paris calls Britney "The Animal!" Jesus! Somebody hug me right now! I don't think I can...
Hold on a sec while I wipe the tears off the keyboard.
Oh God, why are you so cruel?
That's it. I can't take it anymore. Where's that bottle of sleeping pills? I'm ending it now.
Goodbye world. Paris and Britney were too beautiful for you. And for me now there is only sleep. Deep, deep sleep...
Yes, I'm coming to the light.
Oh God. It's him. It's Rock.
I'm coming Rock. I'm coming!
It was beginning to look like Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban's marriage was already on the rocks, what with Keith being in rehab trying to work out his drinky-drinky issues, and that skanky model coming out of nowhere to say she and Keith had gotten it on during Urban and Kidman's engagement. But, maybe, love does conquer all - or maybe the couple's long-awaited reunion in Sydney is merely the prelude to the big-time meltdown we've all been hoping for.
See, now that wasn't right. "Hoping for." What the hell's the matter with me? Rooting for a couple of people I don't even know to break up just so I'll have material for my stupid blog. I should be shot.
Seriously Nicole. Did you see the skank your husband was fucking? That's how little he thinks of you. That he would cheat on you with a broad who's barely attractive enough to be a Hooters waitress. And honestly Nicole - you don't really think he's done drinking, do you? He's a country singer. Those people drink. A lot. And write songs about it. And songs about pick-up trucks and old dogs named Luke. Do you want to end up being in one of those songs, Nicole? A song about the red-head who broke old Keith's heart, so he had to take up the bottle again, and fuck ugly chicks, and put his dog Luke in his pick-up truck and drive down to the fishing hole to do epic battle with Reggie the five-thousand-pound catfish that his daddy and his daddy's daddy both died trying to hook? Is that any kind of legacy for a woman of your caliber? I don't think so.
Anyway, here's hoping the couple can work their troubles out. Hate to see them break up.
Mary-Kate Olsen has gone super-blonde. Seriously. I hope there aren't any low-flying aircraft in the area, or we could have another Cory Lidle situation.
"I'm so sad and tragic-looking with my skull kerchief and deathly pallor. Oh, will the Dark Knight never come and whisk me away to his underground kingdom so I can take my true place by his side as Princess of the Darkness?"
What's that in the bag, Mary-Kate? A magic key that opens the portal to the underworld? Perhaps a salami? Perhaps something that will at last put a smile on your face, if only fleetingly?
Here's a lesson for all you wannabe celebrities out there - never fuck with a Beatle. Just ask Heather Mills what happens when you do. Yeah, Heather knows - it ain't pretty. Cause Beatles are beloved forever - seriously, Paul McCartney could burn down an orphanage, then snort the ashes of the dead children and people would say, "Well, Paul was just having a bad day. Everybody gets a few pints in them now and then and does something bad. I'm sure he didn't mean it." But people who mess with Beatle-karma? Different story. Mess with a Beatle and people will revile you, call you a gold-digger, accuse you of lying when you make allegations. Paul McCartney used to beat you Heather? Well, you probably deserved it. Oh, and he pushed you while you were pregnant, and verbally abused you, and wouldn't let you use a bed-pan even though you're a monopede and can't get to the bathroom without crawling across the carpet like a cockroach? Seems fitting, given that you are a cockroach. No Heather, sorry. Paul could've clobbered you like one of those baby-seals you love so well and people would say, "Well, he was just trying to keep her in line. Women need a little cuffing around now and then. Good for them." He could've hacked off your other leg with a rusty saw and people would say, "Well, nice of Paul to even the bitch out, eh? Now she won't look so goofy tottering around like a drunk on a pogo-stick." Can't win this one Heather. Unless of course you get all the money in the end.
It was one of the year's most bizarre stories - a previously unknown teacher named John Mark Karr coming out of the woodwork to confess to murdering child beauty-queen JonBenet Ramsey. Was this, at last, a break in the case that had baffled investigators, and compulsive viewers of sleazy Court TV specials, since the story first captured the public's imagination back in 1996? Er, no. Because, as it turned out, John Mark Karr was not the murderer of JonBenet Ramsey - he was just a pathetic, celeb-obsessed pedophile who decided, what the fuck, might as well take a shot at fame and confess to murdering this child. Now, we here in celeb-gossip land come up against a whole lot of publicity-grubbing, media-whoring and general attention-grabbing (frankly, about ninety percent of what happens falls into one of those categories), but seldom does one encounter a case of groping for the spotlight this shameless and rank. Britney Spears may flash cooch, Paris Hilton may call someone a name, Lindsay Lohan may write a crazy e-mail that just happens to get leaked to the press, but nothing any of these attention-junkies has ever done comes close to being as reprehensible and sickening as what John Mark Karr perpetrated. So congratulations, sicko. You are officially a lower form of life than Paris Hilton.
Snooty Brit Kate Beckinsale covers her balding head with a hat while hitting the stores in Beverly Hills over Christmas weekend. So while Brad and Angie are off helping the refugees, Beckinsale is shopping at Cartier. Way to care about the children Kate, you bald-headed bitch.
"Comedienne" Kathy Griffin has taken it upon herself to attack actress Patricia Heaton, a conservative who has curried disfavor in liberal Hollywood by being so outspoken in her opposition to stem-cell research and gay rights (she wants Michael J. Fox to die and doesn't want fags to be able to throw their lives away on silly officially-sanctioned relationships).
"The whole gay issue, I gotta tell you - when I hear Patricia talking her bullshit and saying it's not in the Bible that gay people should be together - those are the pieces of information that I can't forget about," said Kathy in her nightclub act.
And who asked Kathy Griffin to take up these causes? No one. Like Rosie O'Donnell, Griffin needs no prompting to begin flapping her ugly yap.
Oh Jesus. I just had a flash of Kathy Griffin and Rosie O'Donnell making out. Somebody get me a bottle of Brain-Drain-O.
Now, to be serious for a second: Yes, Patricia Heaton is full of shit. Yes, we homos should be able to marry each other just like straight people marry each other, if that's really want we want to do (and don't ask me why the fuck anyone would want to; that's not the point). Yes, I wouldn't mind seeing Michael J. Fox punch Heaton in the face (though I don't think his aim is so hot these days; more than likely he would wind up punching himself in the ear). However, if it ever gets to the point where any of us in the gay or pro-stem-cell community need someone as stupid and self-serving as Kathy Griffin making our points for us - well, that's the day we should all throw in the towel.
And yes, I'm as surprised as you are every time I'm reminded that Kathy Griffin is in fact not a lesbian.
MediaTakeOut.com has acquired this picture of concierge-assaulting basketballer Kobe Bryant posing in the buff. Apparently, the picture was taken for a Sports Illustrated spread years ago, but Kobe got cold feet (literally and figuratively, bud-ump-bump) and had the pic nixed. I don't know, Kobe. I think this might've done wonders for your career had you let it be published. I know it's doing wonders for me right now.
Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie really care about the down-trodden masses. That's why, instead of spending Christmas Day exchanging outrageously expensive gifts, getting hammered and having wild, steamy sex in the laundry-room while the nanny watched the kids, they donated their time, and more importantly their beatific presences, to the unwashed and shoeless children in a Costa Rican refugee camp.
"We had a wonderful Christmas both with the Costa Rican people and the Colombian refugee families we met," said Angelina in a statement. "The conflict in Colombia is the greatest humanitarian tragedy in the Western Hemisphere, but it receives very little international attention."
To which Brad added, "Yeah."
Hanging out with a bunch of smelly, lice-ridden war refugees during Christmas - not exactly Crabbie's idea of a great time. Of course, it probably beats hanging out with your own loser family. Especially when that family is nothing but a bunch of wine-bottles you've taped construction-paper faces to and lined up on the coffee table.
"Stop looking at me like that Aunt Zinfandel. Jesus, you've known I was gay since I was twelve and you caught me playing pull-the-weenie with my friend Timmy under the basement stairs. And what's the fucking deal with you Uncle Cabernet Sauvignon? You disappear for fifteen years, then show up one day saying you're the king of a tribe of Amazonian headhunters, and you need to borrow five-thousand bucks so you can buy them all new blow-guns? Why don't they make their own blow-guns? They're fucking Amazonian headhunters. They've been making blow-guns for two-thousand years. Did they forget how or something? Jesus, you didn't sell them some of that home-made gin of yours, did you? Oh Christ. Now they're blind and can't remember how to make blow-guns. You stupid old fool. Now I know why my mother never spoke to you."
"Yeah, that's true. She never spoke to me either. God damn bitch."
Freak-star Michael Jackson has moved into a new house in Las Vegas. Property values in the neighborhood immediately dropped below House Right Next to Airport levels, and may even sink to House Across the Street From O.J. territory.
"Hey Joe. What's that on your lawn? Dog shit?"
Backyard parties with real animals instead of balloon ones, Jesus juice and Disney videos that really have porno on them. I think I'd rather live next-door to John Wayne Gacy.
May 2 - Tom Cruise has signed Katie Holmes up for a Buff Brides program, to make sure she's in good shape for the organ harvesting...I mean the wedding.
May 2 - Sean Connery's ex-wife Diane Cilento has revealed that Connery beat her while they were married. This makes Connery seem like a total thug, and not the tender-hearted soul we always suspected him of being (because Scottish people are usually sensitive and averse to violence).
May 3 - Nicole Richie has admitted in an interview that she's too thin, but says she doesn't have an eating disorder. In another interview, Nicole Richie's stomach said it was lonely, and could someone please send some more Tim Buckley CD's or perhaps some nice cyanide capsules.
May 3 - Lindsay Lohan may have been responsible for breaking up Paris Hilton and Stavros Niarchos. Or it may have been that Stavros decided he was ready to move on to having sex with humans.
May 4 - Britney Spears has hired a "bodyguard" to keep an eye on Kevin Federline. Kevin says he doesn't need a "bodyguard" anymore, and is old enough to be on his own, but Britney said after he almost burned the house down trying to make grilled-cheese, she just isn't sure he's ready to be by himself.
May 5 - Lindsay Lohan may be stalking Mary-Kate Olsen. Suspicions were aroused during a recent red carpet event, at which Mary-Kate demonstrated a visible aversion to being anywhere in Lohan's proximity. A source then reported that Mary-Kate has been receiving e-mails from Lohan, and that Lindsay is always asking questions about Mary-Kate's love-life. Another source said it's very likely that Mary-Kate's twin sister Ashley has been devoured by Lohan, and Mary-Kate fears the same fate may befall her if Superman doesn't arrive on time.
May 11 - Ashlee Simpson claims she hasn't had a nose-job. Her old nose, which now goes by the name "Belinda," says Ashlee is a liar, but it's okay because getting away from Ashlee was the best thing that ever happened to her. "A girl can only stand so much picking," says Belinda.
May 16 - Oil-heir Brandon Davis and sometimes-playmate Paris Hilton are videotaped making fun of Lindsay Lohan outside a nightclub. "I think she's worth about seven million," Davis utters at one point, "which means she's really poor. It's disgusting. She lives in a hotel." Davis then makes history by hanging a tag on Lindsay that will become known the world-round - Firecrotch.
Such wit has not been seen since the days of Oscar Wilde.
May 16 - Nicole Kidman has become engaged to singer Keith Urban. This is sure to be a happy union that will last for years, with Keith never going into rehab or having models come out and say they've been screwing.
May 16 - Britney Spears has again been photographed endangering Sean Preston, this time by placing the poor child in an improperly installed car-seat. It's a good thing there were no photographers around when Britney was using him as a dust-mop.
May 17 - Tori Spelling has had sex with a man, and the sperm found the egg, and now Tori is pregnant. I repeat: A man has had sex with Tori Spelling. In the vagina. Willingly.
May 18 - Britney Spears has still not gotten the hang of the whole baby-carrying thing. Perhaps if she wasn't quite so inebriated...
May 27 - Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie welcome a baby girl, Shiloh, into the world. A fuss is kicked-up over the fact that the name "Shiloh" can be interpreted to mean, "Messiah," which makes Brad and Angie seem a tiny bit full of themselves. Good thing they didn't go with their first choice, "Girl Whose Very Presence On Earth Will Mean The End Of All Hunger And Disease, Yes Even The Really Strong Infections Angie Has Been Dealing With Since She Was Married To Billy Bob Thornton." And in slightly-less-significant baby-news...
May 27 - Gwen Stefani and husband Gavin Rossdale have had a boy, Kingston. They are such copy-cats.
April 3 - Tom Cruise has announced that he plans to wed Katie Holmes in the summer, once their baby is born. When asked about this, Katie replied with three beeps and a neck twitch, which means she's happy but nervous.
April 4 - Rosie O'Donnell says she wants to kick Naomi Campbell's ass. I'd be careful if I were you Rosie. The last person who threw-down on Naomi wound up being transported to the seventh layer of Hell, there to be roasted on a slow-turning spit while Richard Hung tunes play in the background for all eternity.
April 5 - Eminem and wife Kim Whateverthehell have filed for divorce three months after wedding for the second time. Next time try a suicide pact, okay dipshits?
April 5 - Reports are swirling that Angelina Jolie has kicked boyfriend Brad Pitt out after a fight. If you ask me Brad got off lucky by only being kicked out. He could've easily wound up with his throat cut, or bound and gagged with a drooling pitbull about to chomp down on his balls.
April 6 - Paris Hilton says she likes having small breasts now, but wanted implants when she was younger because all her friends had boobs and she didn't. Paris is a flattie-flattie, flattie-flattie Paris!
April 6 - Tom Cruise has told Parade magazine that his father beat him. Obviously not enough.
April 7 - News of Tom Cruise's weirdness comes faster than a nervous kid with his first hooker. The latest says that Tom's bride-to-be Katie Holmes will be using an adult-size pacifier to help her not cry out while giving birth to her child. Why not just rip out her vocal cords, Tom? Then you won't have to listen to her whimpering cries for mercy ever again.
April 10 - Gwyneth Paltrow has given birth to her second child, Moses. And the Lord looked down on Gwyneth and said, "Damn. Did I do that? Sorry guys. My bad."
April 12 - Britney Spears and Kevin Federline are being checked out by Child Services after an incident in which their son Sean Preston fell from a high-chair onto his own head. Said Britney about the incident, "I don't see what the big deal is. (chomp) My momma dropped me on my head lots of time and I'm fine. (bubble, pop, chomp)."
April 18 - Wacky fucker Tom Cruise now says he plans on eating the placenta after his child is born. Hopefully he won't grab the kid by mistake and start chomping down on it. And speaking of Tom Cruise and birth...
April 18 - Katie Holmes has given birth to Tom Cruise's child, and it's a girl and its name is Suri! Did anyone find out if he ate the placenta? Or ate the baby? Or ate Katie? Or started swinging from the lights like a monkey and howling at the top of his lungs?
April 26 - Lost actress Michelle Rodriguez is sentenced to five days in jail for DUI. Tom Cruise has nothing to do with this story, so I don't know why I'm recalling it.
April 27 - Rapper Snoop Dogg has been arrested in London for causing a disturbance on a British Airways flight. Funny, he seems like such a well-mannered, classy fellow.
April 28 - The Sun has published pictures of rocker Pete Doherty, who was recently sentenced for drug possession, injecting heroin into a passed-out female fan's arm. To be fair, the girl was passed out, and therefore unable to inject herself with heroin. So Pete was really just being chivalrous.
March 3 - Are Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie secretly married? Angelina was recently spotted wearing a gold band on her finger, setting off rumors of clandestine nuptials. More fuel was added to the fire when Brad was seen sporting a shiner, and looking generally like a beaten dog.
March 5 - The Academy Awards take place in L.A. Host Jon Stewart flops; a pregnant Jennifer Garner nearly slips and falls walking out onto the stage; Robert Altman reveals he had a heart transplant while accepting his lifetime achievement award; Brokeback Mountain is screwed out of Best Picture by Crash . Most of this happens after Crabbie has passed out from swilling Pinot Noir on the couch.
Of course, the true highlight of the Oscar festivities is Steve-O taking a piss on the red-carpet as a protest against the atrocities in Darfur. I made up the part about Darfur.
March 8 - Desperate Housewives star Teri Hatcher tells Vanity Fair that she was molested by her uncle as a young girl and considered killing herself. This stirs up Crabbie's own terrible memories of being sexually assaulted at age nine by a milk-man. Actually, "terrible" might not be the right word to sum that experience up. And "age nine" might be stretching it too. All right, who am I trying to kid? It was last weekend and he was the cable guy.
March 9 - Ashlee Simpson and Christina Aguilera like to drink. Not together. As far as we know.
March 13 - Britney Spears has put husband Kevin Federline on an allowance. Such a thing would humiliate most men, but not Federline, who's just happy that he can now buy lots of Pez and baseball cards to put in his bicycle spokes.
March 14 - Pictures surface of Paris Hilton visiting a plastic surgery clinic. It's later learned that Paris was only there because she'd left one of her Barbies next to a radiator, and thought a plastic surgeon was where she was supposed to bring it.
March 20 - Tori Spelling's mother is mad at her for making fun of her EBay obsession on her reality show So noTorious. Tori is now officially hated by every single person on earth.
March 22 - Kevin Costner has gone into full denial mode after a Scottish masseuse's claim that he openly masturbated in front of her. In other news, the Indians have officially changed Costner's name to "Yanks On Tiny Wiener in Front of Hairy She-Male."
March 22 - Britney Spears' birthing experience has been officially memorialized via creepy statue. Aw, the poor bear has a headache.
March 23 - English rocker Pete Doherty has pled guilty to seven charges of drug possession. Only seven? Slow night for Petie. In other news, Kate Moss is a coked-up whore.
March 28 - Creepy "actor" Wilmer Valderrama spills the details of his sex-life to camel-faced radio maven Howard Stern, claiming to have fucked Lindsay Lohan, Ashlee Simpson and Jennifer Love-Hewitt, to have anally gratified another unnamed Hollywood actress, and to have videotaped many of his naughty sexploits only to destroy the evidence. Wilmer really, really wants us to know he's not gay.
March 29 - Whitney Houston's sister-in-law accuses the former pop princess of being a crack-addict. Further supporting the claim, The Enquirer publishes photos of Houston and husband Bobby Brown's crack-den, and says of the singer, "[she now] spends her days locked in her bedroom amid piles of garbage, smoking crack, using sex toys to satisfy herself and ignoring personal hygiene." Hey, if you can't enjoy being rich and famous, what's the point of being rich and famous?
March 30 - Model Naomi Campbell has been accused of abuse again, this time by a maid who says Campbell struck her with a crystal-encrusted Blackberry during an argument over a missing pair of jeans. Campbell then reportedly spun her head around 360-degrees, puked a stream of vile green soup and exposed her crotch to Max Von Sydow (again).