Rocker Pete Doherty may have added penguin-murder to his long list of transgressions against decent society. Yes, I said penguin-murder. Dope-fiend Pete and his model girlfriend Kate Moss were at Cotswold Wildlife Park in Oxfordshire, England admiring the penguins when Pete decided it would be hilarious to toss a joint into the birds' pen. And what do you know - one of the animals picked the joint up in his beak and swallowed it. Witnesses said the penguin appeared "wobbly" afterward. But, eating the joint could have more dire consequences for the bird than a little euphoria and perhaps the munchies. Said an incensed zoo official, "Feeding a penguin cannabis could be fatal. It contains toxins that attack the nervous system and liver." The penguin then told the zookeeper to mellow out.
Mischa Barton attends a Christian Dior show in Paris. She's very alert here. You might even say crazed-looking. Okay, I'll say it - she looks crazed. I don't care who you are, if you're getting that excited over some functionally illiterate anorexics parading around in ugly, over-priced clothes - well, you have got to get out and get some spiritual sustenance. Give your life over to the Lord. Or the Moonies. Or the Branch-Davidians (if there are in fact any left after Janet Reno's little cook-out). Worship the sun. Go to Arizona and wait for the aliens. Something. Just, enough with the fashion shows.
By the way, what's wrong with Mischa's boob?
Here's Tara Reid at the premiere of Wild Hogs. No, it's not a movie about Tara's crazy night out with Bai Ling. Or maybe it is - I really don't know. Anyway, these pictures of Tara are kind of monotonous. She looks cleaned-up in all of them, but you just know that, by the end of the night, she has chunks of puke in her hair, and carpet-patterns imprinted on her cheek, and is wearing an overcoat she stole because her clothes got all full of blood in a knife-fight.
Only Paris Hilton could turn a simple trip to the Virgin Megastore into a circus. Last night around 10:30, the well-known coke-snorting harlot hit the VM in West Hollywood to buy some DVDs, but forgot to turn her headlights on after she left. Sheriff's deputies spotted the nitwit driving around sans lamps and pulled her over. It was then that the deputies discovered Paris was driving with a suspended license. They cited her, and impounded her $200,000 Bentley convertible.
First of all, who the hell goes out to buy DVDs at 10:30 at night? How bad do you really need that 3rd copy of The Complete H.R. Pufnstuf, Paris? And second of all - Paris. Nighttime? Headlights? Helps you see where you're going? Oh, of course you have an excuse, delivered by that miserable putz Elliot Mintz. According to Mintz, you were exiting a parking structure which was "brightly lit" so you didn't notice your headlights were off. And then about the license - Mintz said you weren't aware that it was suspended. How can you not be aware that your license is suspended? Are you in fact the most oblivious person on the face of the earth Paris? You're just lucky you didn't ingest any drugs or anything before going out. Cause then you really would've been up the creek. Of course, that fucker Mintz would've just made up some bullshit, like, "If Paris had drugs in her system, she wasn't aware of them." Yeah, you're just blameless, aren't you Paris? You never do anything wrong. It's always someone else. Or you're just not aware. Why couldn't you, just once, be driving someplace, and not be aware that you were headed straight toward the edge of a cliff?
Update: Looks like Paris is in big trouble. Maybe even headed-to-jail-trouble. Seems that last night's incident constituted a violation of the probation Paris had slapped on her by a judge after her DUI arrest late last year. That arrest also led to Paris's license being suspended - and yet Paris supposedly didn't know about the suspension. Right. And Paris also doesn't know she has a snatch. "Hey, what's that down there? Wow, I can put things in it. Like a bowling ball. Or Brandon Davis's head."
I say send the bitch to jail.
Preliminary findings indicate that Anna Nicole Smith was killed by pneumonia and not a drug overdose, the Enquirer is exclusively reporting. However, prescription drugs did probably play a role in her death - by masking the severity of the pneumonia.
This would seem to be consistent with what he'd heard about Anna Nicole's "flu-like" symptoms in the days leading up to her death. And, Anna Nicole was actually treated for pneumonia previously, shortly after the death of her son Daniel in fact.
In other news, what's that smell?
The list of celebs who may have been exposed to Hepatitis A at a Wolfgang Puck-catered event is growing. TMZ has learned that directors George Lucas and John Landis, and Apple co-founder Steve "Woz" Wozniak were all in attendance at the Puck-handled Visual Effects Society's awards banquet on February 11. I hope they're in hysterics right now, because they should be. There's no place for calmly dealing with a situation in our society.
Another day, another picture of Keira Knightley glaring angrily at photographers. No Keira, it doesn't matter how much you show your displeasure - they're never going to stop pestering you. As long as you remain famous, that is. If you really want them to leave you alone, the answer is to move someplace far away, rent a trailer and get a job waiting tables. Of course, then you won't be invited to anymore swanky parties, and you won't have the dough to fly Kenyan masseurs into whatever city you're staying in at three in the morning just cause you feel like it. Sucks to be a star, don't it Keira dear?
Angelina Jolie is fuming with jealous rage after Brad Pitt sent ex-wife Jennifer Aniston a birthday card. According to the new issue of Star, the trouble arose because Pitt signed the card, "With Love, Brad." Angelina reportedly only found out about this because Brad, in a fit of what can only be described as self-destructive stupidity, showed her the card before mailing it. I say it must've been self-destructive stupidity only because Brad should've long-since learned what kind of psychotic nutbag Angelina is. And in fact, he has demonstrated an awareness of this in the past: Earlier this year, while shooting his movie The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, Brad had a scene changed where he was supposed to kiss his co-star Megan Brown, out of fear that Angie would become jealous.
All right Brad, here's the deal - your little girl Angie is nuts. And I don't just mean eccentric or quirky, I mean certifiable. Deeply disturbed, Brad. Because of that shitty childhood she had - the woman is clearly incapable of satisfying herself that she's loved enough. She will never be loved enough. Not by you, or your kids, or all the suffering refugees in all the countries on earth. All the love in the known universe would not be enough for Angelina. No matter what happens, she will always suspect you. She's jealous and paranoid. Severely. I mean, she went ballistic because you signed a letter to your ex-wife, "With Love, Brad." A woman you spent four years married to - you're not allowed to show her a little affection? And this thing about you not kissing your co-star - Angelina's an actress, isn't she? So, shouldn't she understand how those things work? That it's the job? But you were afraid she'd get jealous. So you know what she is. And still you stay with her. I'm sorry Brad, but you have to dump this broad. You're still a young man - don't throw what remains of that youth away on a sham relationship with a joyless succubus. This chick will only drag you down into her psychotic misery. She will eat you alive, Brad. Because that's what people like Angelina do - they consume people. They suck the life out of everyone around them and spit out the husks. Come to your senses, Brad. Get as far away from this soul-chomping bedlamite as you can, as fast as you can. Before it's too late, Brad. Before it's too late.
A story circulated widely last week about Britney Spears's bizarre behavior at the Mondrian Hotel in L.A. the day after her infamous head-shaving. The story said that Britney appeared there suddenly and tried booking a room but had no credit cards, then prevailed upon a couple of kindly tourists to buy her a bathing suit in a gift shop and proceeded to shave her legs in the hotel swimming pool. Now, a different version of this story has surfaced. In this new permutation, Britney made friends with a pair of girls in a bathroom of the Mondrian, where she was shaving her legs and complaining about not being able to get a room. One of the girls lent her a bikini so she could go to the pool with them; she donned the bathing suit in the girl's room, then raided her mini-bar before proceeding to the pool, where she and her new friends continued drinking.
And, thanks to Crabbie, there is now a third version of this story. In this one, Britney was dropped off at the Mondrian by a leather-clad post-Apocalyptic biker. She strode into the lobby, dressed in assless pants, and asked to have a room. Upon being informed that she would have to put assed pants on before being checked-in, Britney began screaming and crying. Two kindly Romanians took pity on her, and brought her to their room where they proceeded to strip all her clothes off, oil her up, and begin performing some kind of bizarre gypsy purification ritual. This was weird even for Britney so she ran for it. She found herself butt-naked and oiled at the pool, and asked a girl if she could borrow a bathing suit. The girl agreed. The two then spent the rest of the afternoon cavorting in the pool, in slow-motion, their flesh pink and wet and enticing. The girl told Britney her name was Millicent. They went to Millie's room afterward and became sisters, cutting their hands and licking the blood from each other's palms. Then what? I don't know, maybe they decided to go have a steak. Millie finally pulled a knife on Britney and robbed her. I knew that bitch was trouble from the start.
Rapper/fashion mogul Sean Combs may be in trouble with the law. According to TMZ, Combs, aka P. Diddy, is presently under investigation by the LAPD over an alleged assault and battery at Teddy's early Monday morning.
The alleged victim, 27-year-old Gerard Rechnitzer, was attending a post-Oscar party with his fiancee at the nightclub, located inside the Roosevelt Hotel in Hollywood. Rechnitzer says that, around 2am, he took a trip to the bathroom, and when he left he discovered his fiancee surrounded by Combs and several other men. The rapper was allegedly talking-up Rechnitzer's fiancee; Rechnitzer reportedly stood watching for five minutes before becoming fed-up and prevailing upon his fiancee to leave with him. Combs then told the woman he was having a party and invited her to attend. Rechnitzer again tried getting his fiancee to leave. Combs then allegedly punched Rechnitzer in the face and left. The victim called 911, and when police arrived he gave a report, but declined medical treatment. Reports say as many as five people witnessed the assault.
So that's how Diddy rolls, huh? He puts the move on other people's fiancees - but only when he's surrounded by a bunch of his boys. Jesus, what a dirtbag. I mean, I thought Brandon Davis was the lowest of the low, but now I don't know - I think Combs might be lower. And then there's Rechnitzer's fiancee - doesn't sound like she was all that eager to be coaxed away from Diddy, does it? Rechnitzer had to ask her twice? What's up with that? Damn Gerard, that's a ho you picked out for yourself. Maybe you'd have been better off letting Diddy have her. But, I give you credit - you did finally man up and protect your lady. After five minutes. And Diddy - punch a man then run before the cops show up? Oh yeah, you're hard. Just like that night you were with J. Lo and you shot that broad in the face, then tried bribing your driver into taking the gun. And you let Shyne get sent up the river too. Yeah, you are a piece of work Combs. A real piece of work.
Attendees of a recent Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue Party are being warned by the Health Department that they may have been exposed to acute Hepatitis A, TMZ is reporting. The warning comes after an employee of the party's caterer, famed food-maven Wolfgang Puck, was diagnosed with the disease. The party, held on Valentine's Day, was attended by such luminaries as Beyonce, Leo DiCaprio's squeeze Bar Rafaeli and numerous other models. Potential infectees, including anyone who attended an affair catered by Puck between February 1st and 20th, have been told to get an immune globulin shot by tomorrow.
So I guess Wolfgang Puck can kiss his career as caterer-to-the-stars goodbye. Unless everyone sees their way clear to not blame him for this terribly unfortunate occurrence. Fat chance in paranoid Hollywood. From now on everyone will be wearing hazmat suits to parties. Except Lindsay of course - she's immune to everything (except "appendicitis").
Posted by Melvin Ayatollahofrock'nrolla at 9:12 PM
Matthew McConaughey likes to surf. This is more than recreation for Matthew - it's actually how he washes his clothes. Seriously. That pair of shorts is like the only clean thing he has. Everything else smells like the dankest corner of your grandfather's attic. Including Matthew.
But he's still hot.
David Beckham may be a big star in Europe, but in America he ain't squat - at least not to the kind of high-rollers who pay big money for items at celebrity auctions. Beckham, who recently signed a huge contract with pro footy club the L.A. Galaxy, had a private soccer lesson up for bid at Oscar night's AIDS Foundation charity auction, and it received the lowest bid of the evening, a paltry $70,000.
What? You mean there wasn't some gay guy willing to shell out more than $70,000 for a private "soccer lesson" from Beckham? What the hell is the matter with these people? I mean, even if you don't care about soccer, wouldn't you still want to hang out with Becks for awhile? Kick the old football around the back yard, Becks in his hot little soccer outfit, getting all sweaty, and you getting all sweaty. Afterward you suggest to Becks that he should have a shower, then follow him into the bathroom and ask him if he needs you to loofah his back for him. Maybe one thing leads to another. You have a few drinks. Back-rub. Anal penetration...
Don't these fools have any imagination?
Actress Maggie Gyllenhaal has begun experiencing the down-side of celebrity - namely, the relentless pursuit of photographers. Instead of going after them with an umbrella or putting their names on a Death List, however, Maggie is taking the sane route - she's moving to what she hopes will be a quieter neighborhood.
"I love living in New York," says Maggie. "But the West Village became terrible. Paparazzi waiting for me, following me. Thirty fotogs camped outside the door. It's scary. Especially since I now have a baby. I have to hope Brooklyn will be quieter, safer. Look, I know I should just be grateful for all the good that's happened to me. And I am. But I'm also getting scared."
Thirty fotogs camped outside the door Maggie? I hate to break it to you hon, but those weren't paparazzi desperate for a celebrity snap. They were medical researchers gathering material for a study of facial deformity.
I better get my fire-suit ready, cause I'm going to Hell.
Dreamgirl Jennifer Hudson shows off her boobs...er, I mean Oscar...on this morning's Today show. Wow, Jennifer sure is proud of her boobs...er...Oscar. I bet she's going to polish up those boobs...I mean, that Oscar...and stick it up on the mantle for everyone to see. Man, it must be great having boobs...I mean it must be great having an Oscar. You know, it really makes your life easier if you have big juicy bazoombas...ah...eh...if you have an Oscar, it makes your life easier, cause you can get lots of roles...parts you wouldn't be able to get it if you had little tiny mosquito-bite boobs...I mean if you didn't have an Oscar...I mean boobs...ah...I don't know what I mean. Curse you Jennifer's boobs...
Jessica Biel's the hottest thing in show-biz right now, at least going by the number of male celebrities who want to add her to their list of conquests. In just the last week, Biel, star of the acclaimed mystery The Illusionist, has found herself targeted by not one but two heat-seeking Hollywood bedroom-missiles - hunky actor Ryan Reynolds, and well-known sex addict Wilmer Valderrama.
Last week, Page 6 declared that Biel and Valderrama looked like "a hot new couple" when they danced together at the Rose Bar in the Gramercy Park Hotel. "They were in deep conversation," reported a witness. "Then, Latin music was playing and he twirled her about. They seemed to be together all night." But today, Just Jared says that Biel was in the company of Reynolds on Oscar night, and that the two of them left the GQ Oscar party together.
Now, it would be really easy to call Jessica Biel a slut right here, especially since she allegedly also had relationships with Justin Timberlake and baseballer Derek Jeter recently, but I'm not going to go there. I don't think Jessica is a slut - I think she's just picky. I mean, girls - you know how you are. You walk into a clothing store or something, and what, you just grab the first thing your eye falls on? Of course not. You've got to browse. You've got to try different stuff on. You've got to try something on, put it back, then try something else, then take the first thing and try that again, then end up buying neither. And why should Jessica be any different? All right, granted, we are talking about men here, which is somewhat different than clothes - but not all that different, really, when you think about it. I mean, for Jessica, who can have about any man she wants, picking a boyfriend probably is a lot like shopping for clothes. You know, there's more to consider than just whether something is comfortable. You've got to look good in it. It's got to make you feel sexy. So, Jessica is just shopping around, looking for the right fit. Timberlake - yeah, he was a little too harsh for her. Jeter - too ordinary. Valderrama - kind of second-hand, sort of scratchy, not really a great color. Reynolds - ooh, Jessica would look really good with Ryan Reynolds on her. He's totally hot, and for once Jessica would actually be the feminine one in the couple. I think we have a winner folks!
Jessica Simpson has still not gone back blonde. What is she waiting for? Congressional action? Everyone hates this look Jessica. In fact, everyone hates you. Well, I shouldn't say that - I'm sure there are some young children who like you. But children don't know any better. And of course there's your father Joe - we all know how he feels about you. Your boobies especially. Joe really likes your boobies.
Lindsay Lohan on the set of I Know Who Killed Me. Is she playing Jessica Simpson in this movie? No. She doesn't look nearly manic enough to be Jessica Simpson. Plus John Mayer isn't sniffing her crotch.
Lindsay hits Patrick Whitesell's late-night Oscar after-party. Yeah, Lindsay doesn't go to those stodgy Oscar parties with all the old ladies and kids. She only goes to the hard-core ones. Dressed like Tina Turner. And looking older than Tina Turner. But, on the bright side, at least she still has her hair. For now.
So Keira Knightley has totally gone off on this "I'm not a glamour girl" kick. She's doing a pretty good job of it too. I mean, looking at her there - yeah, I wouldn't guess she was a movie star either. I would guess she was on her way home from the methadone clinic. And not home to some posh apartment either, but some dingy little hole with roaches everywhere and water-stains and nothing in the fridge but some moldy cheese. A little TV with rabbit-ears on top of a milk-crate. An old afghan-covered couch sagging from the weight of all the carcasses that have deposited themselves there, as if their ghosts were all piled up there, the collected weight of all those wretched souls.
1. Tortured Kiki
Kirsten Dunst did not handle the pressure of Oscar night well. According to Us Weekly, Dunst's stress began with her seafoam Chanel dress (which garnered mixed reviews from fashion watchers). During the ceremony, Dunst is reported to have said to her friend, "I don't feel really relaxed. ... I don't want to spill water on this dress or you can see through it." And the tension only mounted for Kiki as her presenting turn approached. "I want to get it over with so I can go relax," she reportedly told her friend. "I can't fuck up my speech. I am presenting Best Screenplay and it will be career suicide if I fuck it up. I really need water. I just want to get out of here already."
And just imagine how she'd be if she were actually nominated for something. Ha - what am I saying? Kirsten Dunst nominated? For what? Best Drunk-Ass Ho? They don't have that category yet. But if they did, Dunst would be in the running every damn year.
2. Punk-Ass Eddie
Eddie Murphy is not only a loser, he's an ingracious loser. Last night, when the former comedian learned he'd lost the Best Supporting Actor prize to Alan Arkin, the self-important, pouting schmo immediately got up and left the ceremony, not even bothering to stick around for co-star Jennifer Hudson's triumph, or her and Beyonce's big musical number.
What's the matter Eddie, can't stand getting your butt kicked by an old man? Aw, poor Eddie, didn't get his wittle Oscar. Well, let me tell you Ed - you didn't deserve it. Dreamgirls was mediocre at best, and you - you were not so hot, Ed. A shticky impersonation of James Brown and a couple adequate dramatic scenes do not a great performance make. You only got nominated for the novelty value - hey, let's give Eddie Murphy an Oscar nomination, that'll be different. Face it Ed, you haven't done anything worthwhile since Coming to America, with the possible exception of the voice-work you've done as the donkey in Shrek. And how fitting that one of your best roles would be as an ass.
3. Katie Weirds People Out
Katie Holmes had people talking last night at the Vanity Fair after-party - not about her dress or looks, but about her wacked-out behavior in the presence of her master Tom. Basically, Katie acted like a robot. When Tom tried getting some photogs to take a picture of Katie alone on the red-carpet, his brainwashed wife refused, clinging to him. Tom then spent the rest of red-carpet session schmoozing, Katie holding his hand all the while and never talking. Then later, Tom again asked Katie to have her picture taken solo, and this time she relented - but kept looking back to him for directions.
Congratulations Tom - you've succeeded in sucking every last ounce of will from Katie's body. Finally you have someone who won't criticize you, won't make you feel inferior, won't refuse anything you ask. You've got yourself a little flesh-and-blood blow-up doll to do with as you please. God, this man is sick - sick right down to the very core. Because he can't interact properly with people, and is so crazy and insecure, he has to create himself a little mindless companion who only does what he tells her. Does that make you feel like a man Tom? Powerful? Nicole Kidman was too much for you, wasn't she? Your pitiful little ego couldn't take the bruising. So, now poor Katie has to suffer because you have a complex. God I hope you're proud of yourself.
Just how unhinged is Britney Spears? Is she suffering from some kind of pedestrian, drug-fueled, stressed-out madness, or is she legitimately bonkers? Like padded-room bonkers. Strait-jacket bonkers. Does she belong in a psycho-ward instead of rehab? Would shock-treatments help? What exactly is going on with that girl? Nobody knows. Except the British tabloid News of the World, which has all the dope on Britney's breakdown. Everything that happened from the time she confronted Federline up till now. And details about Britney's psychological state even before the umbrella meltdown? They've got those too. They've got everything. It all sounds like bullshit, but they've got it.
All right, where to start? Well, how about the Federline confrontation. We all knew that, the night of the umbrella incident, Britney went to see Federline, and there was some kind of fight that ended in Britney being convinced to re-enter rehab lest she lose her children. What we didn't know is that, having been turned away by Federline because she was acting so crazy and scaring the kids, Britney called Kevin and offered him $200,000 in exchange for dropping the emergency hearing he wanted to hold. Kevin, loving fellow that he is, turned down the money, and insisted Britney get serious about rehab instead. And she has been in treatment ever since.
But will that treatment be enough? Friends of Britney fear entering rehab is really just a way of avoiding more serious options. Like commitment to a psychiatric institution. Britney's pals have related harrowing stories of her behavior in recent weeks. Says one friend:
She spends every night in floods of tears. She lies there, sobbing her heart out to the blackness. You can hear her crying and crying with these deep sobs that echo around the house. Her security guards have to listen to it because she's got them sleeping outside her room—she's that fearful for her own safety. Then in the morning she gets up and goes through her room and all her belongings to search for bugs. She's convinced that everyone is out to get her and that her thoughts are being recorded. And the smallest thing can set off a fully-blown panic attack. She gets this fearful look in her eyes and starts trembling all over, dripping with sweat and gasping for breath and she looks like she's going to faint at any time. It's absolutely terrifying to see. It is the behaviour of someone who has completely lost their mind.
Wow - Britney's batty. So batty in fact that Promises, the rehab center, has her on suicide watch. And allegedly, UCLA's psychiatric hospital has a bed reserved for her should she completely break down.
So is Britney really suicidal? We heard stories about her trying to kill herself by running in front of traffic, and being saved at the last minute by her pals. But, supposedly, that wasn't the end of her desperate behavior. Shortly after the traffic incident, Britney reportedly held up two bottles of Tylenol and screamed, "I'm gonna do this, this is it! I'm through with the whole fucking circus!" But one of Britney's friends was able to talk her out of doing herself in.
And then there's this: During Britney's first, one-day foray into Promises, the staff there suspected the singer had smuggled some cocaine into the facility, and therefore searched her. But what they found wasn't drugs; in fact it was more disturbing: a list Britney had written naming people she wanted to see dead, including Federline and certain members of the paparazzi. Said Britney's friend:
When the staff confronted her she just burst into tears. She was crying uncontrollably — she's now such a broken woman. They had to strip search her afterwards to make sure she didn't have drugs on her body. Then the list was quietly disposed of. Britney just turns this stuff over and over in her mind. She has dark fantasies about terrible things happening to her enemies.
Scary - if it's true. But I would tend to doubt a lot of it. It sounds like tabloid sensationalism to me. Of course, Britney's life has become so crazy, the reality may actually surpass the fabrications of yellow journalists. In time, we may learn that fiction has nothing on the truth.
Cameron Diaz. No more pot jokes. Let's make fun of her clothes instead. She looks like Columbo. "Book 'em, Dan-o." Oh wait, that was Hawaii Five-0.
I'm now less disturbed by the influence of Scientology on Katie than that of Poshy. I think Poshy was the one who taught her to keep this expression on her face. It's supposed to be Katie's "serious" look, but she can't do it right, so it just looks like her shoes hurt. Or maybe her shoes just hurt. Or maybe she's got that ringing in her ear that comes whenever the behavioral inhibitor chip kicks in.
All right, why is the light on Biel's face the same color as her dress? She didn't have someone following her around with a colored light, did she? And is that the same dress she wore to the ceremony? Aren't stylish ladies supposed to change? Cameron did. I guess Jessica figured her dress was functional enough that she didn't mind traipsing around in it all night. Some of those dresses, you can't even walk in (I'm told).
Sean Penn kind of laughs at Sacha Baron Cohen. You just know they're discussing how ignorant and gullible Americans are. They both hate America. Oh, and look at how admiringly Isla Fisher gazes at Sacha. She thinks he's brilliant. Why? Cause he has a British accent? What an airhead. I mean Isla. And Penn too.
Beyonce, Oprah and Mary J. Blige. Beyonce's boobs are trying to make contact with Oprah's it appears. There's some kind of weird boob-telepathy going on. Maybe Oprah's boobs are telling Beyonce's not to be jealous of Jennifer Hudson's. Face it Beyonce, Jennifer's a better singer than you, a better actress than you, and her boobs are finer. Honestly, name one thing you have that's better than Jennifer. The ass? All right, I'll give you the ass. But after the ass? Your weave? Your armpits? What?
Beyonce - what a loser.
Robert Downey, Jr. makes out with a woman who is apparently his wife Susan. This is real progress for them. Not long ago, Susan couldn't hope to distract Downey from his coke. Now if she waves her hands around vigorously, she sometimes manages to catch his attention.
Oh look, it's Madonna and Gwyneth. My, my - two little English lasses sharing a spot of fun. Well, cheerio to them. Hoist another pint then, eh lassies? Put another shrimp on the barbie...er, no, that's Australia. Hmm, let's see - how 'bout some bangers and hash? Fish and chips? Damn, Kevin Kline was right about the English in A Fish Called Wanda - they are fucking lame.
Paris Hilton may finally have wised-up about her buddy Brandon Davis. Or, I hope she's wised-up. After what went down at Paris's 26th birthday party, she better have wised-up. Because anyone who keeps a friend around who behaves like such an unconscionable boor - well, that person deserves whatever misery is heaped upon their flitty little head.
So what did Brandon do, anyway, to finally convince Paris to show him the door? The petroleum-secreting oil heir did nothing less than completely ruin Paris's party. According to reports, Paris's parents shelled out an outrageous sum to arrange the shindig at the Rodeo Drive restaurant Prime Grill - they allegedly spent $10,000 on the flowers alone. All went swimmingly at first - Paris was radiant, Stavros Niarchos on her arm, her bud Nicole Richie and boyfriend Joel Madden by her side. Then the trouble began. Around 10 p.m., Brandon, surely bombed out of his mind on something, began his attempt to set an all-time record for most revolting behavior.
The first target of Davis's inebriated foolishness was Paula Abdul, who was there to sing "Happy Birthday" to Paris. For some reason Davis began pelting Paula with flowers, then started pegging styrofoam flower-holders at her, and was heard saying, "Lick my [bleep], Paula." Then he raised the ante by speaking nonsense in an Arabic accent, mocking Paula's ethnic heritage. At this point Paris and Stavros tried shutting him up, but Paula had already had enough and was out the door (without singing). But wait, it gets better. Having finished with Paula, Davis then set his sights on Courtney Love, who was at the party with her 15-year-old daughter Frances Bean. According to a witness, Brandon "lifted [Courtney] up so that she was straddling his waist. ... Her Chanel dress was riding up. Brandon was saying, 'I want to squirt on you.' He was humping Courtney in front of her daughter... When he put her down, Courtney grabbed Frances and they marched out of the restaurant through the kitchen."
So Brandon was 2-for-2. But there would be no more conquests for the King of Assholes this night. Paris finally got upset with him after he knocked over some candles and glasses - she screamed at her mother, "This is not my fault!" Brandon was then talked into leaving, and the party was allowed to finish. Afterward, Paris and her buds went to her house for some further revelry (a website will soon have the pictures, I'm sure). An undaunted Brandon reportedly showed up there too, but Paris's security people had been told by this time to keep him away, and he was escorted out. There has been no official statement about the matter from either Paris's people or Brandon.
So, did Brandon Davis finally cross the line, and convince Paris Hilton to find a better class of friends? I'd like to think so, but I doubt it. The problem with Paris is that, deep-down, she was probably amused by Brandon's behavior. Had he done that stuff in a different setting, without her parents around, she probably would've laughed. But, her parents were there, so some kind of childish parent-pleasing reflex took over, compelling her to get upset. She had no choice but to have Brandon kicked out of the party, but it wouldn't shock me if, in a day or two, they're back together again, sliming all over each other. It's going to take more than one little embarrassment to break up that team. Because, let's face it, they're perfect for each other. Neither one has a drop of class, and both seem completely heartless and sadistic. They both live to mock and torment people. Davis is so bad that it wouldn't surprise me to hear he was whacking squirrels' heads off with a golf-club like Michael Skakel. This is how these people are - these privileged types. The rest of humanity is just there for their amusement. Of course, Paris isn't as bad as Davis. Paris at least has a little shame; Davis has none. The man is so repulsive and worthless that you can't even laugh when he torments Paula Abdul. He actually makes me feel for Paula. And even Courtney Love, who barely seems human anymore, becomes a sympathetic figure when Davis picks on her. I think Brandon Davis may have achieved his goal - he has become the most sickening, low, vile piece of refuse in the universe. He's even worse than Russell Crowe.
Ellen Degeneres and Jamie Foxx. Well Ellen, at least you made someone laugh last night...
(Foxx totally wants a three way with Ellen and Portia).
Ron Howard talks to Jay Leno. I heard Ron was thinking of doing a re-make of The Elephant Man. Leno would be perfect for the lead - wouldn't even have to make him up.
Madonna and Forest Whitaker. Sorry Madonna, you can't adopt him. Angelina beat you to it.
Nicole Kidman, Meryl Streep, Mary J. Blige and Oprah Winfrey. That's some girl-power there, kids. There's also a yin-yang quality to this picture, isn't there? And damn - look at Oprah's boobs. What, was she trying to out-bazoom Jennifer Hudson? Maybe they should've had Oprah sing that song with Jennifer during the ceremony. Then poor Beyonce wouldn't have had to pop a blood vessel in her head.
Isla Fisher aka Sacha Baron Cohen's squeeze cozies up to Portia de Rossi. You know Cohen sent Isla over to ask Portia for a three-way. All right, that's two three-way jokes about Portia de Rossi. I apologize.
Spike Lee and Orlando Bloom? What, was some photographer going around the room just randomly throwing people together?
I see Orlando still hasn't gotten hold of a comb. Judging by his eyes, I'd say he did get his hands on some blow, though. And apparently that wasn't all Orlando got his hands on over the weekend - according to the Daily Mirror, Orlando's mitts were pretty damn busy at the Soho House pre-Oscar party too. Busy with Penelope Cruz, who was seen having drinks with him in a corner, and then with Ray Winston's daughter Jaime, whom Orlando took to a tucked-away spot after Penelope left. Both young women, it's reported, were treated to a good deal of groping, and gave their share back as well. But the winner was Penelope, who was seen in Orlando's arms Saturday night at the Chateau Marmont.
Britney Spears is sick of people bugging her, and that includes the people in rehab. So, to insure privacy while she "cleans up," Spears has done something drastic - demand that the Promises rehab center clear an entire wing of other patients so she can be alone.
"She wants all the rooms on her wing," said an inside source. "It will cost her hundreds of thousands (of dollars)."
If I were the Promises people, I'd just do it. The last thing you want is Britney busting through your office door waving an umbrella around. Of course, it's sort of a shitty deal for the other patients, who will now have to find another rehab facility or double-up. Maybe Britney could see her way clear to compensate these folks for their trouble. Send a little cash their way, or maybe do some freebie auto detailing. She's great with SUVs.
Alan Arkin is not only an Oscar-winner and a Hollywood legend, he is also a man of eminent good sense. He proved this last night on the red-carpet by his comments about Little Miss Sunshine co-star Abigail Breslin, who was up for Best Supporting Actress. Here's what Arkin said when asked about Breslin's chances for winning the award:
I hope she loses frankly. No, I'm serious. I am not joking ... What, next year she is going to get the Nobel Prize? It's enough. She has had enough attention. ... I love her and I love her family; and I feel enough is enough. ... She is a kid; she needs to have a childhood.
How much better off would poor rehabbing Britney be if her parents had taken the same attitude? Kudos, Alan Arkin.
(P.S. - Some of you are going to be cheesed about Arkin's "I hope she loses" comment. You're going to say things like, "How could he be so mean to a little girl?" But, all Arkin's saying is that the transient joy from winning an award is nothing compared to being truly happy and fulfilled in life. There are too many people who think little empty accomplishments matter. That's why people sue school systems when they think their kids have been robbed out of the Valedictorian. Who cares? Always striving for a meaningless, temporary sense of gratification will ultimately make you miserable. Arkin speaks the truth. And the world is full of dolts who don't get that Oscars mean nothing.)
So what do you do if you can't get into the Oscars? You get yourself into one of the various viewing parties/dinners/celebrations that take place the same evening. That's where all the non-invited D-listers hang. Of course, a lot of them are charity events, like Elton John's AIDS Foundation thing. That's so the losers can fool themselves into thinking they're doing something good when all they're really doing is stewing in jealousy.
Sheryl Crow at Elton John's AIDS Foundation Academy Awards Viewing Dinner. Things have gone south for Sheryl since Lance ditched her. No reason to fret it though, Sheryl. So Lance would rather "work out" with Jake Gyllenhaal than be with you. Can you blame him?
Emmy Rossum at Elton's event. I want to make fun of her but I can't. She's so pretty even an irascible old queer like me can't help but go silent in admiration.
On the opposite side of the spectrum from Emmy Rossum, it's semen-encrusted porn slut Jenna Jameson, attending something called The Night of 100 Stars Oscar Gala. All right, somebody explain to me - why do people think the scrawny-chick-with-big-fake-tits thing is hot? Pamela Anderson and this broad - gross. Sometimes heteros just make no sense to me (any straight man who would rather have this beast than Emmy Rossum is plain dumb).
Sharon Stone at Elton's. Is it just me or has she been looking a bit like Liz Hurley lately? You know, I think there's an auction at that Elton John deal - and we all know Sharon loves conducting auctions.
By the way, yesterday was a big day for Sharon too - she won Best Actress at the Razzies, and Basic Instinct 2 won Best Picture. I still liked her best as the bitchy actress in Irreconcilable Differences. Now that's going way back.
Rachel Leigh Cook at Entertainment Weekly's viewing party. Is she still in show-biz? She sort of peaked with that one anti-drug PSA where she went nuts with the frying pan. "This is your brain, this is your brain on drugs." I had no idea being on drugs was like a no-name starlet flaking out in your kitchen. Very informative.
Bai Ling at Elton's. Come on - let Bai Ling into the Oscars. She's what that stodgy mess needs. Hell, let her host it. She could do some kind of bizarro Oriental musical number that degenerates into a kinky striptease. Then ten bronzed musclemen could descend from the rafters in little gondolas and begin simulating sex-acts with each other while Bai straddles a giant dildo. The FCC's phone-system would crash, but it would be worth it.
Haylie Duff and Lance Bass at the "Envelope Please" viewing party. Psst, Lance. That's not a dude...
Dita Von Teese at Elton's. She's doing her old-timey thing again. Oh, give it a rest Dita - you're not one of the Andrews Sisters. Yes, I know - she has style. She also had Marilyn Manson's weenie inside her. Not that she could tell...
(Dirty Disher's gonna kill me for that one. Oh well...)
Tara Reid, also at Elton's. Tara's just glad to be anywhere - as long as there's booze. And nice soft carpeting.
Poshy at Elton's. What? Poshy couldn't get into the Oscars? You mean her good buddy Tom couldn't pull any strings for her and get her a seat? So she had to hang out at the same place as Tara Reid and Sheryl Crow? Ha! So much for Poshy "taking over Hollywood." Bitch can't even get a seat in the nose-bleed section at the Kodak. Wow, what a bring-down for Poshy. Europe's biggest celebutard barely makes the D-list in the States. And you know she was just pissed as hell about it too. Probably broke some crystal. The delusional no-clout slag.