Tuesday, December 28, 2004

As many of you are aware by now, a terrible tragedy has befallen the world of swimsuit modeling, not to mention the world in general. Here at Felt Up HQ, we offer our warmest wishes to the family of "jet-setting supermodel Petra Nemcova," whose courageous story has mesmerized the readers of the NY Daily News since it was featured on the tabloid's front page. This brave, totally HOT Sports Illustrated swimwear model "survived the terrifying Asian tsunami by clinging to the top of a palm tree for eight hours - wincing through the pain of a broken pelvis and haunted by the sight of her boyfriend being swept out to sea." Truly tragic, and yet so ispirational.

Oh, yeah, apparently 59,999 non-models didn't fare so well.

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To make a donation to the non-jet-setting supermodels who desperately need aid, go:

  • HERE

  • Wednesday, December 22, 2004

    Here's a stocking-stuffer for you:

    Paris Hilton wears size 11 shoes!

    It's pretty sad when you wear the same shoe size as your drag-queen impersonators. Of course, if this whole being-famous-for-doing-nothing thing ever stops working for her, she could always star in a series of porn movies about tiny-brained annoying women with GINORMOUS FEET! Or...yeah, uh, I guess she could also just fall back on her inherited fortune. Damn.

    Here's an actual photo of her feet juxtaposed with a normal, decent person's:

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    Tuesday, December 21, 2004

    I don't usually include a lot of sports figures in Felt Up, because frankly I could give a crap, but every once in a while a story comes along that is so special, so illustrative of the Christmas Spirit, that I bend my rules a little bit. Such as this remarkable profile in courage, courtesy of Page Six. If there was any justice in the world, the first sentence alone would warrant a special Pulitzer Prize for Best Lead in a Gossip Story:

    "Little person-loving Mets pitcher Pedro Martinez is caught in the middle of a dissing match between two dwarves.

    After Martinez bonded with 4-foot-tall Post freelancer 'Little' Tim Loomis at his introductory press conference last week, the hurler's old mini-mascot, 28-inch tall Nelson De La Rosa, whined to the Daily News that Martinez 'broke my heart.'

    De La Rosa — who was Martinez's 'good-luck charm' during his World Series win with the Boston Red Sox — is upset because Martinez laughed off the Beantown-based dwarf's role in the victory, saying it was 'just a trick.'

    Then Martinez doubled his diss by scooping up native New Yorker Loomis and triumphantly holding him in the air.

    De La Rosa, who once starred opposite Marlon Brando in the 'Island of Dr. Moreau,' sniffed of Loomis: 'That little guy just wants to be famous. Well, I'm already famous.'

    But Loomis fired back yesterday, telling PAGE SIX: 'He sounds a little desperate to me. I'm more famous than he is. I was in Woody Allen's 'Shadows and Fog.' I've worked at Radio City's Christmas show. I've appeared on 'Saturday Night Live.' And I'm doing the hottest comedy show in the country — Beacher's Comedy Madhouse at the Hard Rock Hotel in Las Vegas.'

    'I'm also a lot taller than him,' Loomis cracked.

    The Post's report about Loomis' lovefest with Martinez may have landed him
    another movie role: He's been asked to play a pint-size pimp in 'Vegas, Baby,' written and directed by Eric Bernt, who scripted the 2000 Jet Li action flick 'Romeo Must Die.'

    Meanwhile, Loomis and other little people are a wee bit upset that the News referred to him as a 'midget.'

    Loomis fumes: 'It's like calling someone a 'k- -e' or a 'n- - - -r.' It's a very offensive term. They should be polite and correct, and use either 'dwarf' or 'little person.' "

    OK, I really don't know what THAT was all about--so much confusing information, so much anger and resentment!--but apparently one little person is angry at another little person because a baseball player dumped him as his personal good luck charm (a sort of human rabbit's foot). Whatever. The main thing is that it involved Marlon Brando's mini-me from "The Island of Dr. Moreau"! OMG! This is the SAME mini-me that I helped re-create for Terri R.'s 2004 Halloween costume (her brilliant and disturbing portrayal of Marlon-Brando-as-Dr. Moreau) using a floppy rabbit doll and a piece of white curtain lining! WOW. I get WAY more excited over celebrities like Mr. Nelson de la Rosa than I do over hosebags like Paris Hilton. WAY MORE. Yippee!


    Monday, December 20, 2004

    This is just to let all my adoring fans--you know who you are, both of you!--that just like love, the posts are going to come in spurts for the next couple of weeks. You know, the holidays and whatnot. Your humble Felt Up bloggette will be busy guzzling boozey nogs, stuffing cakes and candies--and yes, perhaps a pie or two--into her piehole, and generally rolling around on the floor clutching her distended belly in a gluttonous stupor, not unlike Templeton the gay rat after his smorgasbord-orgasbord binge at the fair in "Charlotte's Web."

    I DID however, just receive in the mail my beloved Star Magazine, with its "50 MOST ANNOYING PEOPLE OF 2004--And Why We LOVE Them!" issue, which I will dissect very soon in elaborate detail....stay tuned! Also, a new poll is on the way!

    Friday, December 17, 2004

    Kind of slim pickens today, I'm afraid. But there IS this little item from Page Six that is sure to warm the heart and imbue one with the sweet glow of holiday spirit:

    "The catfight between Hilary Duff and Lindsay Lohan is back on.

    The teen queens declared their undying hatred for each other after they simultaneously dated Aaron Carter, but at last Friday's Z100 Jingle Ball, Duff took the feud up a notch when she got her boyfriend to make Lohan's little brother cry.

    Lohan, at the concert to introduce Destiny's Child, was with her brother Cody, 8, Cody's pal (also 8), her sister Ali, 10, and her mother, Dina.

    'Cody and his friend love Good Charlotte, who were playing, and they really wanted an autograph from the band,' our source reports.

    But when the boys and a Universal publicist knocked on the dressing room door, there was Duff sitting on the lap of Good Charlotte band member Joel Madden, whom she's dating.

    Told that one boy was Lohan's brother, Duff whispered to Madden, who snapped: 'Get me your mother!'

    When Dina got to the dressing room, Madden told her: 'Until your daughter publicly apologizes to [Hilary], you're not getting any autographs!'

    According to our spy, 'Cody started crying, he was so upset. Dina was just appalled.'

    A rep for Lohan declined comment. A rep for Duff said, 'Hilary was not even near Joel's dressing room all night.'"

    Who knows if this story bears any semblance to reality? Who gives a damn? All I know for sure is that it is awesome in every way. Making an 8-year-old cry? Hilary Duff sitting on the lap of a Good Charlotter? A never-ending feud between teen sensations? Hotcha! It's like Santa got my Christmas list early!

    To celebrate such good fortune, I would like to recite one of my favorite carols, which has been passed down from generation to generation in my family and goes something like this, but with tap dance accompaniment (a five six seven eight):

    "On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me, a Duff on Good Charlotte's knee.

    On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me, one boy a cryin' and a Duff on Good Charlotte's knee.

    On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me, two girls a feudin', one boy a cryin' and a Duff on Good Charlotte's knee.

    On the fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me, three lawsuits pendin', two girls a feudin', one boy a cryin' and a Duff on Good Charlotte's knee.

    On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me...four taaaaaaaacky teeeeens [I'm including members of the Duff/Lohan posse here, bear with me]...three lawsutis, two feudin' girls, one cryin' boy and A DUFF ON GOOD CHARLOTTE'S KNEE."

    Still brings a tear to my eye...

    Thursday, December 16, 2004

    America's Next Top Model is.....EVA!!!Hurrah!

    OMG, I totally thought it was going to be either Amanda or YaYa, but Amanda was eliminated first--a complete shocker for this show! I didn't think Eva Piggleton or whatever her name is (Pigglesworth? Pigmalion? All I know is that it starts with "Pig," which is unfortunate, because Eva's got just the teensiest bit of a snout on her. She's very pretty, don't get me wrong, just, you know, in a slightly piggy way. Oh, what the hell is it? Pigglesworth? Pigtopeewee? Pignewton?) had a hope in hell. But obviously I KNOW NOTHING.

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    Eva Pigglywiggly!

    So first the girls had to do a Cover Girl photo shoot, and it was seemingly the first and only time they didn't get made up like futuristic crazy ladies from Bjork's worst nightmare. They all looked a 100 times better than they ever had, but really, YaYa didn't photograph as well as the other two. Even Amanda looked fresh-faced and pretty, not like her usual evil-eyed witch woman, but Eva definitely looked the best. The general consensus at the ANTM viewing party was that America was not ready for two black final contestants--but again, we KNOW NOTHING. For it was Amanda who got eliminated. Janice looked like she was going to retch--she loved Amanda (the skinniest contestant) like a fat kid loves pie. Too bad, Janice--the next top model was going to be a short black woman, whether you like it or not!

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    Cover Girl Eva Piginablanket!


    After Miss Legally Blind 2004 was ixnayed, there was a runway competition done all robotic style, where the models walked like zombies with some seriously hideous hair and makeup. It was kind of a gyp--it wasn't even a straight runway, it was square shaped, and there was nary a hint of sashay, shantay, pivot, PIVOT. I wanted, you know, a WALK-OFF like in "Zoolander," not all this wooden, stiff stuff. Total rip-off, man! Thanks a lot, Tyra.

    During the final judge off, Janice wanted YaYa, Nigel couldn't decide, and Nole liked Eva...Tyra was acting all upset and kept moaning about how hard it was. It was like they were picking the winner of the Nobel Peace Prize.
    Whatever, the main thing is that YaYa didn't win, and now she can take her beloved Ivy League education and get congratulated on her faux humbleness someplace ELSE. If Toccara couldn't win--and she SO should've, she ruled!--at least it wasn't goddamn holier-than-thou pompous ass YaYa or Jah Wolf's blind crystal-loving hippie mama Amanda.

    The lesser of three evils won! YAY EVA!!! Now you can vanish into obscurity like the last two Top Models. As for me, I think it's time to transfer my tragic ANTM obsession to something more deserving, more high-brow, more mentally stimulating...something like PROJECT RUNWAY!!! Yippee!

    Wednesday, December 15, 2004

    Lots of tidbits today, just in time for the holidays! First up, a little family joy. This Page Six headline really captures the essence of What Family Is All About:

    "HER BRA BELONGS TO DADDY"

    Doesn't that bring a wee tear to the eye? Here's the deal:

    "Joe Simpson, the former Baptist minister turned manager of daughters Jessica and Ashlee, doesn't shy way from talking about his offspring's physical assets.

    'Jessica never tries to be sexy,' Simpson tells GQ. 'She just is sexy. If you put her in a T-shirt or you put her in a bustier, she's sexy in both. She's got double D's! You can't cover those suckers up!'"

    [I have to interject something right here: EWWWWWWW! That's her DAD!!!Not to mention a former MINISTER!!!OK, back to the story already in progress. No, wait, I have to say it just one more time: EWWWWWWWW!!!]

    "Simpson also volunteered that he modified the part Ashlee will play in an upcoming movie, "Wannabe." In the original script, Ashlee's character was gay.

    'I changed it,' Simpson says. 'It doesn't work for her to be gay the first thing out. She said, 'But it's cool, it's edgy, it's different,' and of course the filmmakers were like, 'It's cool for a woman to be a lesbian,' and I'm like, 'That's true, but not her first role.'

    'She's going to be a huge movie star. She's like Meg Ryan or Cameron Diaz, with probably more depth. When we're done, she'll play it all.'"

    So, not only is Joe Simpson incredibly icky and totally creepy, he's DERANGED as well! "Like Meg Ryan" but with "more depth"? Granted, he's not exactly aiming HIGH in the depth department, but still. He's obviously quite mad. And I thought MY family Christmas was going to be awkward and tense! But as far as I know, neither of Felt Up's parents have ever talked about my boob size to GQ. Not that said boobs are not magnificent, it's just that, you know, we have a little something called taste and propriety. Sort of. Most of the time, anyway. Until the booze comes out. But I digress...

    Now onto some non-news you really can't use! WENN reports that Nicole Kidman had knee lipo! What, the illegal Botox didn't freeze the fat in its tracks before it could make its meager way to Ms. Kidman's knobby knees? Quelle horror!

    "Australian beauty Nicole Kidman has fuelled speculation she has had cosmetic knee surgery, after being snapped wearing bandages around her legs.

    Pictures in British tabloids Tuesday show the Cold Mountain star in a swimming costume, exposing band aids around her knees - which British surgeon Dr. Apostolos Gaitanis says suggests she has had liposculpture to remove fatty deposits, which are notoriously difficult to shift in later years.

    Gaitanis explains, 'She is in her mid-thirties, an age when many women find that fat has started to collect on the inside and upper section of their knees. No matter how much they exercise or control their diet, these deposits stay put. It takes about 45 minutes and patients can go home immediately. For the next few days, patients wear plasters and support stockings to help the skin re-drape correctly.'"

    This is some kind of horrible trend in Hollywood--first Demi Moore had her knees done and now Nicole. What's next? Toes? Elbows? Anus reduction? Let's imagine THAT one, shall we: "New photographs of Goldie Hawn's ass reveal tell-tall signs that the fifty-something star of such films as 'Overboard' and 'Bird on a Wire' has recently undergone anus-reduction surgery. Surgeon-to-the-stars Dr. Anton Freebase notes that 'women in their fifties often see an enlarging of the anal canal, after years of undergoing high-colonics and having press agents sticking their heads up their clients' lower intestines...but fixing this unsightly problem is relatively simple, although not entirely painless.' Dr. Freebase went on to say, 'A nip here, a tuck there and their anuses look like a newborn baby's.' Ms. Hawn could not be reached for comment." Sigh. Armageddon, people. That's all I'm sayin'.

    Speaking of newborns, from the "Now I Shall Be Subjected To Even More Baby Porn in My Beloved Star Magazine" file, Liv Tyler pushed out a healthy baby boy yesterday. She and her husband, pale has-been English "rocker" Royston Langston, have yet to come up with a name for the tyke. May I suggest Quince or Kumquaat if you want to go the Gwyneth fruit route, or why not take a cue from Jermaine Jackson and just name him Jermajesty? It's sort of timeless and classy. Or how about Livalittle? Livinoutloud? Livfortoday? The possibilities are endless...

    Finally, Russian tennis slut Anna Kournikova may or may not have wed Enrique "I Just Sound Gay" Iglesias recently. If they did, in fact, engage in holy, sacred matrimony, I hope that their public canoodling, groping, ass-grabbing, and sex-on-the-beach displays are all part of their future wedded bliss. For my sake. And the sake of the children. Isn't it all about the children, after all?

    Monday, December 13, 2004

    Speaking of the wondrous joys of Christmas, another story from the "Why Doesn't Someone Pay For Me To Go To London" file:

    "A protester has attacked a controversial waxwork Nativity scene featuring England soccer captain David Beckham as Joseph and his pop star wife "Posh Spice" Victoria as the Virgin Mary.

    'He pushed Posh and Becks over. It caused some damage but we don't know how much. The baby Jesus is fine,' said a spokeswoman for Madame Tussaud's waxwork museum in London on Monday.

    Anglicans, Catholics and Presbyterians have united in calling the exhibit a new low in the cult of celebrity worship.

    But Madame Tussaud's said it was popular with the public, who were outraged at Sunday's vandalism.

    'People were appalled. We had members of the public complaining that the Nativity was the only reason they were coming in today,' the spokeswoman said.

    'Staff gave chase but the attacker managed to escape. We are hoping to reopen the exhibit as soon as possible.'

    Controversy over the nativity has caused great mirth in British media. The Sun newspaper even instituted a dial-in line on Monday for anyone who might be able to identify the attacker.

    In the wax tableau, Australian pop star Kylie Minogue hovers above the crib as an angel while Victoria lays her shawled head tenderly on Beckham's shoulder.

    Tony Blair, George W. Bush and the Duke of Edinburgh star as The Three Wise Men. The shepherds are played by Hollywood star Samuel L. Jackson, British actor Hugh Grant and camp Irish comedian Graham Norton."--CNN

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    Can you IMAGINE something like that in the US? Madame Toussaud's would be raided by Justice Department blackshirts as the last official act of John Ashscroft; the wax figures would be firebombed and anyone who had ever even LOOKED at the things would be expelled from the country. And everyone would be all, "Who the hell are Posh and Becks?" too. Infidels and phillistines all!

    I could do without the George Bush, Tony Blair and Duke of Edinburgh Wise Men (I suppose it's all part of that famous English sense of sarcasm), but Kylie as an angel (!) and Graham Norton as a shephard are genius.

    Posh and Becks are truly religious icons in most parts of the world, though, so that's not even all that funny.

    OK, yes it is.

    This is off subject a little, but I would like to say here that I used to think until quite recently that the first line in the Christmas carol about the nativity started out: "We three kings of Orientar..."--like they were the kings of a distant, exotic land named Orientar. Made sense at the time (ie, most of my life). I'm not that good at geography. Or caroling. It's a cute story, though, right?

    Right?
    Sometimes I don't like Page Six very much. The right-wing slant, inaccuracies, focus on NY nightclub-owners I don't give a fig about--there are times when I just say "ugh." This is NOT one of those times. Today's Page Six led with the following item, and it's a BEAUT:

    "WHY ELLEN AND GAL PAL SPLIT"

    "Titillating TV stars Ellen DeGeneres and Portia de Rossi are shacking up after ditching their longtime lady loves.

    On Friday it was reported that DeGeneres had split with her girlfriend of four years, photographer-director Alexandra Hedison.

    We're told the real reason for the break is that DeGeneres is now deeply in love with de Rossi, the Australian-born "Arrested Development" diva. De Rossi recently dumped her longtime gal pal, singer-songwriter Francesca Gregorini (Ringo Starr's stepdaughter) to be with DeGeneres, a source close to the new couple told PAGE SIX's Jared Paul Stern. The pair are now in DeGeneres' house in the Hollywood Hills which Hedison left a couple weeks ago.

    DeGeneres, 46, and de Rossi, 31, first met nine months ago on a photo shoot, we're told. They fell "instantly in love," de Rossi gushed to pals at the time. But DeGeneres remained loyal to Hedison, whom she often credited with "saving her life" at a time of crisis. However, when DeGeneres and de Rossi met up again at VH1's "Big in '04" awards gala in L.A. on Dec. 1, events took their natural course.

    Their respective girlfriends were absent, and this time there was no stopping the lusty ladies. They managed to find a private spot and "things got so hot and heavy between them that they raced to a limo and fooled around for hours," our source reports.

    The very next day de Rossi left Gregorini, saying she was madly in love with DeGeneres, and DeGeneres asked Hedison to move out of their house, though we're told the pair plan to make it seem they were already single in order to minimize the fallout.

    Reps for DeGeneres and de Rossi could not be reached for comment.

    'Alexandra and Francesca are both devastated," says a source close to the women. "Neither of them had any idea what was coming.'

    There is obviously some bitterness, and while some friends speculate that DeGeneres and de Rossi were secretly seeing each ever since they first met, others snipe that de Rossi is out for all the publicity she can get with a new high-profile relationship.

    'People who know Ellen well feel she is going through a midlife crisis, dumping Alexandra for a hot, younger woman,' says our snitch. 'They predict Ellen will come to her senses and dump Portia to go back to Alexandra in the near future.'

    Hee hee! While I object to Ellen and Portia being referred to as "titillating" simply because they are lesbians, I have to admit--I'm a little titillated! Fooling around at the Big in '04 Awards--giggle gigggle! There used to be some doubt--some, not much--at Felt Up HQ as to what team Ms. de Rossi plays for, but now it's crystal clear! I don't know why this story warms my heart so much--maybe its the romance (except for the dumpees), maybe it's the fact that Portia de Rossi is a fascinating nutball, maybe it's that they are fulfilling the lesbian stereotype of moving in together after one makeout party--but it does! It fills me with holiday cheer and good spirits, like a hot toddy or a delightful rummy nog. I wish them only happiness and joy in the new year--as much as they have brought me. It's a an early Christmas miracle! God bless us, every one!

    Friday, December 10, 2004

    Ahhh, Friday is here and the weather is beautiful here at Felt Up HQ, and a girl's thoughts turn to flights of fancy. Or not...WENN reports that:

    "Spears Stinks Out Plane with Feet"

    "Pop beauty Britney Spears' smelly feet upset her fellow airplane passengers recently.

    The "Toxic" singer was flying from Los Angeles to New York with her husband Kevin Federline and decided to make herself more comfortable by removing her shoes.

    Unfortunately for her fellow passengers, Britney's feet caused such a stink it wasn't long before they were forced to complain to a stewardess.

    One says, 'The smell was unbelievable. One woman had a word with the air hostess, then three or four others complained. She looked pretty embarrassed as she tapped Britney on the shoulder and asked her very politely to put her shoes back on. Britney went red, laughed and said her shoes made her feet stink. Thankfully she put them on. There's no way we could have put up with that.'"

    I think I am beginning to fall in love a little with Ms. Britney Spears. As Terri R. says, it just seems like she would be so fun to party with. You go, Stink Foot! Don't let the bastards get you down!

    And in darker, more troubling--nay even terrifying--news, further evidence from Page Six that the powers of cosmic darkness are lining up as we hurdle ourselves toward The Apocalypse:

    "Adam Levine, Maroon 5's frontman, found himself as the latest man to get caught in Paris Hilton's revolving man-door. The two went back to the Hard Rock's penthouse and partied into the wee hours before disappearing together."

    Seriously, this is getting frightening. What's next? What new sign of impending doom could come our way? What freaky thing is going to happen to really shake the foundations of my core belief systems? I mean, what--is Tara Reid going to dump Lindsay Lohan as her best friend/partier-in-crime?

    Oh,no. It can't be. Jesus t-f'ing Christ:

    "Actress Tara Reid has viciously attacked the New York Post's gossip columns for claiming she is close friends with teen star Lindsay Lohan...

    In an interview with America's Stuff magazine, Reid blasts, 'The reporters from (New York Post's) 'Page Six' hate me, and I don't know why. They will write anything they can and always in a derogatory way. You can't do anything about it.'

    Reid focuses on one of "Page Six"'s three female correspondents Liz Smith, Cindy Adams and Elisa Lipsky-karasz, but refuses to clarify which reporter she hates. Reid fumes, 'She's just evil. But karma's a bitch, so she'll get hers.'

    The blonde beauty is furious she's been associated with Lohan, who, despite being underage at 18 years old, is regularly spotted in the nightclubs of Hollywood and New York.

    She explains, 'A tabloid reported she moved into my house and she's never even been to my house. Some article said I was a bad influence on her, because she was going out and going crazy. But Lindsay Lohan is way more wild than I was when I was her age. Don't put me with her - I don't want to be dragged into her s**t.'
    --From WENN

    NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I won't believe it! No. No. No. It isn't true! Lindsay and Tara are thisclose! I know it! Damn you and your serpent's tongue, foul woman! I don't know if I want to live in a world where Tara Reid and Lindsay Lohan don't do cocaine off each other's backsides at Suede! Or drink Grey Goose Cape Cods while dancing on the banquettes with Australian tennis players at Bungalow 8! Or pick up strange Latin manchildren and have their way with them in the ladies' room at Club Nacional! These are the dreams that I cherish; my faith in them USED TO BE unshakable, my devoutness was like a nun's. Now what do I do? Where do I go from here? I am lost in the wilderness....


    Thursday, December 09, 2004

    Poll result time! In the last mini-poll, the people of the world were asked what was the best terrible movie of all time (or as far back as I could remember) and now the world has spoken: The best terrible movie is..."The Devil's Advocate"! With 33%! Oh, World, when you are right, you are SO right. What a great, great terrible movie: Keanu Reeves' faux southern accent, the incredible scenerey chewing of Mr. Al Pacino, the title itself--get it? Huh? He's a LAWYER and he works for SATAN so he's LITERALLY "The Devil's Advocate"!!! How clever! Next worse was the Mariah Carey-in-hot-pants vehicle "Glitter" with 22%. Third place was a tie between "Showgirls" and "Xanadu" with 17% each, and fourth most awful was split between "Anything with Sharon Stone" and "Bram Stoker's Dracula" with 6% apiece. Apparently, "Cleopatra" and "Alexander" are so terrible that no one has ever seen either of them, for they got 0%. Give "Alexander" time, though, people; I have a feeling about that one sneaking up on us later when we least expect it and providing some giggles and maybe even a guffaw or two...

    So. New poll question. I have been drawn to things biblical of late, so I humbly put this to you, World: What person, event or thing is the harbinger of the coming Apocalypse? (Not including George W. Bush). Poll is down at the bottom left. Sure, putting Dick Clark's stroke as a choice may be in poor taste, but you know what? So's armageddon. Not to mention "Armageddon" the movie--ooh, damn! I should have put that on the LAST poll. Oh, well...

    Wednesday, December 08, 2004

    Christ almighty. TWICE IN ONE DAY! PROOF THAT THE RAPTURE IS COMING!

    From CNN:

    "Joan And Melissa Rivers Coming Back"

    "Joan and Melissa Rivers are returning to red carpet duty starting with next month's Golden Globes, a job they were shut out of during this year's Emmy Awards because of a contractual tangle.

    The mother-daughter tandem say they are more than ready to dish it out to the stars.

    'I think it will be notched up just because the energy is going to be so amazing,' Joan Rivers said on Tuesday. She missed covering this year's Emmy Awards when she and her daughter jumped from E! Entertainment Television to TV Guide Channel.

    Will Hollywood's stars be more carefully dressed knowing they'll again be facing the sharp-tongued Rivers women?

    'They better be,' Melissa Rivers said."

    AAAAAAAAAAAH! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! Actually, that won't help. With something as all-encompassing as Judgment Day on nigh, you can't run. You can't hide. You might as well go on a never-ending champagne-and-caviar-swilling trampage until the frogs start raining down and the Leviathan washes up on the shore of a blood-red sea. Which will happen soon after the Emmy Awards, according to The Book of Revelations: "And the Death's Head shall greet The Daughter of a Slain Idol on the Crimson Path and shall speak the name of a Child of the Far East, and thus shall begin the End of Man." In other words, right after Joan Rivers asks Mariska Hargitay if she's wearing Vera Wang. It's all in there, people! Read it and weep!
    ANOTHER SIGN THAT THE END OF THE WORLD IS NIGH:

    From WENN:

    "Pop punk Pink will expose her innermost thoughts and feelings in a big screen adaptation of her private diary.

    The singer wants to tell her own story, following the decision to postpone a planned biopic of sixties icon Janis Joplin, starring Pink in the lead role.

    Pink - whose acting experience is limited to a cameo role in Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle - says, "I plan to write a film script based on them. They are shocking, inspiring and, above all, true to my heart."


    She plans to call the movie The Diary of Pink."

    Jesus, Mary and Joseph. We're going to hell in a handbasket. I am totally and completely serious, ya'll. All of us who live in a world where THIS could happen--we are The Damned. We are all guilty, because none of us are going to do anything to stop this abomination. Eternal damnation--'tis our fate. Thanks a lot, Pink.

    In other WENN News of the Ludicrous, Madonna was shocked--SHOCKED--to discover her manager was having an affair with one of her bodyguards and fired her because of it:

    "Madonna's devotion to the Kabbalah was behind her decision to fire her long-term manager Caresse Henry, after discovering Henry was having an affair with a bodyguard.

    The "Like A Virgin" singer was reportedly shocked that Henry, who had also converted to the mystical offshoot of Judaism, had broken one of the religion's strictest teachings - faithfulness.

    Henry had a partner back in America, while security man Ricky Dallanegra lived with his girlfriend in London. They have since become a couple after leaving their respective partners.

    Madonna sought the advice of her rabbi on the matter when she learned of the romance during this summer's Re-invention tour, before deciding to follow the Kabbalah practices and disown Henry.

    An insider tells British newspaper The Sun, 'Madonna and Guy are deeply committed to their Kabbalah faith which preaches monogamy and faithfulness. It's ironic, because Madonna used to eat men for breakfast. Now's she's a married mother and Kabbalist, she believes cheating is a serious sin.'

    'When she found out her manager was having an affair with her own bodyguard she was devastated. Madonna had a huge falling out with Caresse and said she couldn't possibly work with her any more.' "

    Excuse me while I take a minute to puke my guts out. UGH! I HATE MADONNA! This holier-than-thou school marm attitude is almost as preposterous as her British accent. I heard her on "Fresh Air" the other day and I almost crashed my car in a furious rage over her berating Terri Gross for asking her if she had, indeed, converted to Judaism. Saint Madonna went on and on in her preachy, high-handed tone about how much she hated ALL religions, how the Kabbalah "predated" religion, blah blah blah. BLEH! OK, we get it. She did not become a Jew. She only wants to dilly dally around with a mystical Jewish cult. Fine. Whatever. But she has a rabbi she consults? She fires longtime associates over a measly affair--when apparently there were not even any spouses involved? I want to get the "Erotica" book, tear out the picture of her having a three-way with Big Daddy Kane and VANILLA ICE--oh, Big Daddy Kane, wherefore art thou? but I digress--and throw it in her haggard under-fed ancient face. Fun, good-times Whore of Babylon-era Madonna could be hard to take at times, but nothing like THIS. She should quit the entertainment industry altogether, a la Cat Stevens/Yusuf Islam, and SHUT THE HELL UP.

    Tuesday, December 07, 2004

    Yet another lip-synch scandal is sweeping through...well, whoever cares about this sort of thing. This time it was Lindsay Lohan, on "Good Morning, America," reports Page Six with great glee:

    "Today's teen pop queens are too young to remember the shame that befell lip-synchers Milli Vanilli in 1990.

    First, Ashlee Simpson was caught mouthing the words instead of singing last month on "Saturday Night Live" when her engineer played the wrong song. Yesterday, Lindsay Lohan was found out on "Good Morning America" when she messed up "singing" her tunes "Rumors" and "Over."

    The director had to cut away at one point when Lohan's mouth was closed while she was "singing." Said one viewer: "She missed her cue to mouth along to the vocals."

    An insider told PAGE SIX that the band was live, but there were backing tracks. "It wasn't fully lip-synched," the source shared. However, the source added that Lohan, no stranger to a late-night good time, had some vocal issues and, "It was dicey to use her straight vocals...

    "All musical acts that perform on 'Good Morning America' are required to perform live," said "GMA" spokeswoman Bridgette Maney. "On occasion, artists will have backing tracks to support their live vocals."

    Still, the titian-tressed temptress disappointed her young fans. "It was embarrassing," one formerly devoted follower told us. "It hurt my heart."

    Lohan might have lost her voice where she lost her purse. She apparently misplaced her handbag, which was found Saturday by a guest at a party at an Upper East Side bar for alums of Providence College.

    The lucky finder was showing off Lohan's California driver's license, her black American Express card and other things she'd rather we didn't mention."

    OK. As much as I am LOATHE to defend the likes of Lindsay and Ashlee, I do want to point out to the media types who repeatedly invoke the name of Mili Vanilli that they not only lip-synched, THEY DIDN'T USE THEIR OWN VOICES ON THE RECORDING. Which is a bit different from simple lip-synching. Just thought I'd mention that small point, because IT DRIVES ME CRAZY.

    But isn't it awesome how snarky Page Six is in this story? "She might have lost her voice where she lost her purse"? Hee hee! "No stranger to a late-night good time"? Ha ha! I also love, love, love the "formerly devoted" young fan whose heart was "hurt." Kiddo, you better start getting used to THAT. It's a big, cold, cruel world out there, full of deceit, lies, betrayal, and "backing tracks."

    But goddamit! Why bring up that there were things in her purse they can't mention? My mind is AFLAME with the possiblities! Nude photos of Wilmer? Tara Reid's coke vial? Daddy's restraining order? WHAT? WHAAAAAAT? I am going mad. Thanks a lot, Page Six!

    Monday, December 06, 2004

    The new Star arrived today. Kind of a snooze...the cover reads: "MARRIAGE IN CRISIS!" over a photo of a frightened-looking Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt. Star boasts that it has an "EXCLUSIVE REPORT" about 1) "Why Jen Won't Have Brad's Baby!" 2) "His Secret Visits With Angelina!" and 3) "Why Brad & Jen Are Hardly Ever Together!"

    Flip to the story and the answers are: 1) She wants to have a big movie career before she pushes out little Brad Jrs! 2.) Gasp! Angelina and Brad made a movie together! OMG. 3.) They are both interntaional jet-setting movie stars and their mega-million dollar careers are keeping them apart! I weep with sorrow over their plight!

    The most shocking revelation, at least to me, was that they were married in 2000--I seriously thought they had been married FOREVER. Like, since 1946. I guess it just seems that way, from the endless, relentless press scrutiny they have received. Bleh.

    What else doth Star offer up before mine eyes? The mandatory Julia Baby Porn. Let's just skip on past that, shall we?

    Jessica says that she'd "never CHEAT on Nick!" while holding her dad's creepy hand (I'm assuming).

    There's a photo of the Gotti Family Christmas Special, in which Victoria Gotti and her three hideous troll-doll sons decorate a Christmas tree while their faces assume the same look of morose glumness one might associate with people about to be shot by a firing squad. I think it's supposed to be "funny."

    Ruben Studdard is having some sort of totally unsurprising "health nightmare." I think it might have something to do with his weight and slightly manic personality, but I didn't actually read it all the way through due to lack of interest.

    Demi and Ashton spent a boring Thanksgiving skiing in Idaho as part of what Star calls their "very grown-up relationship." YAWN.

    Apparently Coureteney Cox and David Arquette are having troubles in the sack in her post-baby days. Yuck, yuck and double yuck--who would want to have sex with David Arquette EVER? Is Star tring to give me nightmares?

    The answer: YES. For in the "Stars Who Are Normal or...NOT NORMAL" section, there is a highly unnecessary photo of Danny Bondaduce's black banana hammock that may haunt me for the rest of my days. (He auctioned off his pants at a charity event.) SHUDDER.

    Finally, I am happy to say that the "HEY! Remember Me?" featurette on the last page is about NATALIE FROM THE FACT'S OF LIFE!!! Yay! Ms. Mindy Cohn is now 38 years old, single, and still acting! She looks great! She was nominated for a daytime Emmy for her voice work as Velma on "What's New, Scooby-Doo?"! I am now officially an ancient old lady.

    Friday, December 03, 2004

    Oooh, now THIS is good: A production assistant on Nick and Jessica's Christmas Special has sent a juicy e-mail to the geniuses over at Gawker.com, and there are tons of great observations about the Newlyweds' (non)interaction; the realness of Jessica's boobs; her biatch-y diva tendencies; and best of all, this quote from Nick, who, when asked to say something nice about his wife, said:

    " 'How about she was the best stocking I ever stuffed?' He then proceeded to say, 'She was the best chimney I've ever come down on.'"

    AWEsome! Note use of past tense. Who cares if it's true or not? To read the full e-mail in all its glory, go:

  • HERE!

  • Wednesday, December 01, 2004

    OK, after bitching last week about my beloved Star Magazine and its disturbing habit of using misleading cover headlines, I am pleased to announce that THIS week's Star cover story totally delivers the goods! The headline is "Stars Without Makeup! 20 Shocking Photos Inside You Must See!" and it is a thing of beauty. The cover features Courteney Cox, Pamela Anderson, Goldie Hawn, and Whitney Houston. After eagerly flipping to the accompanying article--complete with dermatalogists' and makeup artists' commentary--I was DELIGHTED to see that there were SIX whole pages of incredibly unflattering photos of today's top female celebs. Huzzah!

    First, let's dispense with the "I'm Sorry, Star, But They Still Look Good" photos: Kate Hudson, Nicollette Sheridan, Pam Anderson, Teri Hatcher, Kelly Clarkson, Serena Williams, Alicia Silverstone, Tori "I Can't Believe I'm Saying She Looks Good" Spelling, Michele Pfeiffer, and, surprisingly enough, Courtney Love (I think she looks better without all the crazy-old-lady makeup). All of these ladies are caught au naturelle--in private moments, just finishing a workout, or whatever--and frankly, if a photographer ever caught ME like that, I would be sucked down a never-ending shame-spiral of self-loathing and despair. Sure, they don't look GREAT, but who among us is ready to cast the I Always Look Fantastic 24/7 stone? Who?

    Now, onto the good stuff. Of all the people pictured, Kirstie Alley, I'm sad to say, looks the worst. We all know how much I love and support Ms. Alley. I was even going to start a line of "fat pride" bracelets called Kirsties! But I have to call 'em as I see 'em, even if it means hurting the ones I love. This is not a new photo, by the way, but it may be the single most unflattering picture I've seen of anyone ever in my entire life. She doesn't look fat so much as she looks like someone in a "fat suit," with prosthetic faux chins; slick back her hair and she could be the "wafer thin dinner mint" guy from Monty Python's "The Meaning of Life." Star says: "Such a pretty face!...By accenting her eyes, the actress, 53, can bring out her natural beauty. Ginger eye shadow and mascara would do the trick." Hmmm...ginger eye shadow is apparently a miracle product! I had no idea!

    The next most unflattering is Whitney Houston. I actually think she's wearing a little lipstick in this photo, unlike ANY of the other stars...and yet she looks absolutely TERRIBLE. She has the skin of a crack whore's tired old grandmother. Her hair is a FRIGHT and she looks 5,000 years old. Star's nutritionist thinks "she needs vitamin injections" (uh, I am pretty sure that injections of any kind are the LAST thing Ms. Whitney Houston needs right now) and that "her skin texture and deep set eyes show 'a fair amount of toxicity.'" NO, DUH. Seriously, people, she looks like death warmed over, re-heated, microwaved, and served on a sizzlin' skillet.

    Madonna just looks like Madonna always looks now--tired, too thin, no facial fat, ancient, haggard, NO FUN, and faux English.

    Goldie Hawn is 59 years old and looks freakishly young most of the time, so I'm ready to cut her some slack on these pictures. The one on the cover is pretty bad, though; she is probably speed-dialing an illegal Botox dealer as we speak. Star's nutritionist, a font of profound information, begs Goldie to "eat more veggies!"

    Shannen Doherty looks puffy, like she was boozing it up all night and was photographed doing The Walk of Shame out of some B-movie actor's Studio City hideaway. Again, who am I to judge? We've all been there, folks.

    Debra Messing, AS WE ALL KNOW WHETHER WE WANT TO OR NOT, just had a baby, but Star still accuses her of being "washed out"-looking and in need of a tinted moisturizer.

    Lisa Marie Presley looks like Elvis after he'd been floating facedown in a pool for 48 hours. Bloated, puffy, and blotchy--Star's celebrity makeup artist recommends concealer and eye cream.

    HA! Liz "I Would Kill Myself If I Was As Fat As Marilyn Monroe" Hurley looks 110 years old, drawn, pale, exhausted, ancient. Granted, she appears to have just jetted in from Sri Lanka or someplace else very, very far away, but her outer appearance is starting to match the inner hideousness of her soul. Hurrah! Star helpfully notes that "a quick slick of color perks up pale lips."

    Britney's got bad zits. What else is new? I like that the nutritionist proclaims her to "be in a state of nutritional decay." Wait a minute--Cheetos and Red Bull are bad for your skin? Wha..WHAT?

    Finally, Lindsay Lohan looks a little blowsy-old-broadish for being 12 years old or whatever she is. Post break-up malaise? Too much quality time with Miss Tara Reid? Hard to say. Perhaps a bit of both.

    In other parts of the Star, we have "Is Anna Nicole CRACKING UP?" The answer: YES. Big time. On las drugas.

    Also, just in time for the Felt Up Greatest Bad Movie of All Time Mini Poll, there's an in-depth investigation into "Alexander: The Craziest Movie Set EVER?" The greatest part is the Star "Nuts-O-Meter" graphic which rates the wackiness of each big player on the set. Rosario Dawson sexed up Colin Farrell and is rated slightly nuts. Angelina Jolie sexed up Colin Farrell and is rated right on the line between nuts and loony (basically just for being Angelina Jolie). Oliver Stone is off the Nuts-o-Meter chart for directing the movie from a white tent he called "The Temple," forcing auditioning actors to have pretend sex with a pool table, and for constantly talking about losing his virginity to a prostitute paid for by his father. Yawn! Colin Farrell is a drunken, oversexed Irish dude, so he breaks the Nuts-o-Meter as well. And in this crazy mixed-up world we live in, Mr. Val Kilmer actually rates saner than Oliver Stone and Colin Farrell, depsite the fact that he is Val Kilmer. He only rates a high loony.

    Ooh, one more thing. In their star siblings feature, Star has a great photo of Kevin Spacey's Rod Stewart impersonator brother! The rest of the spread seems mainly like a cruel depiction of the vagaries of the gene pool. Doug Pitt, I feel your pain...

    Tuesday, November 30, 2004

    Poll Time! The results are in, and the celebrity you most want to have "fat sex" with is...drum roll please...John Goodman!!! Aww, that's nice. He tied with "there's no such thing as 'fat sex!'" at 29% of the vote. Coming in with an impressive 19% was SNL's Horatio Saenz, followed by Camryn Manheim with 14%, and "Cheers" go to George "Norm" Wendt and good ole Kirstie Alley, with 5% apiece. No one on earth wants to have fat sex with Star Jones or Roseanne, just the way nature intended.

    Now, onto the new poll! With the release of "Alexander," we have a new contender for Great Bad Movie, which I define as a movie with a big budget, famous cast, and tons of hype--that bombs like Hiroshima upon its release, but then manages to find an appreciative, if tipsy, audience later in life. Not a small, low-budget Ed Wood-type thing, but a great big boffo mega-flop. I also excluded actual great bombs such as "Heaven's Gate" and "Ishtar" because those I like, plus they lack the unintended sense of kitsch so essential to a Great Bad Movie. So, the new poll quesion is: What is the greatest Bad Movie of all time? And by "all time" I mean "what I could remember" so no write-ins for silent Icelandic classics or anything starring Clara Bow. Go vote! (Poll is down on the bottom left).

    Monday, November 29, 2004

    Ooh, goodie! Just in time to distract me from the deluge of Julia baby-mania heading my way, Page Six has THIS delightful little "blind item" today:

    "Which recently married Hollywood heavyweight has an Oedipal issue? Before he walked down the aisle this summer, he had a secret nook in his bedroom; when women would enter, he would channel Elvis and they would have to call him 'Daddy.'"

    Gee, that's a real tough one...let me put on my thinkin' cap...I'm no Valley Girl, although sometimes when I get moonstruck I CAN get a litle bit wild at heart; for instance, when I'm leaving Las Vegas I like to place a few bets, and I would totally face/off with any takers that I know which national treasure this is about!
    Well, this moment had to come SOME time: Julia Roberts has given birth to her boy-and-girl twins. Although she wasn't due to deliver until January, mother and babies (Phinnaeus and Hazel, if you care about such things) are fine. The non-celeb baby-maker/husband is fine. However, your humble Felt Up Blogette is ready to weep at the impending onslaught of baby porn on its way to her beloved Us Weekly and Star Magazine: baby gifts, baby room decortating, Julia-n-Danny pushing expensive baby strollers, intense post-pregnancy weight-loss scrutiny, blah blah blah-- it will be a total waste of precious trashazine space! Boo, hiss!

    The other big non-news from the holiday weekend: Shelley Long may or may not have tried to commit suicide by ODing. WENN reports:

    "Former Cheers star Shelley Long is back home after an alleged drug overdose, although her manager insists she merely took one pain pill too many to combat a severe back ache.

    The 55-year-old actress' spokesman Martin Mickelson has denied American newspaper reports that the star took an overdose after battling depression following the break-up of her 22-year marriage.

    The New York Post claimed Long was hospitalized on November 16. Mickelson insists she merely misjudged her pain medication and spent a night in hospital."

    Hmmm. Regardless of her intentions, the sad, tragic outcome of all this is that she is still alive and ready to work. Yeah, sure, that sounds cold-hearted, but this is SHELLEY LONG we're talking about, people! Oh, don't look at me like that.

    Wednesday, November 24, 2004

    In honor of tomorrow's holiday, here are My Top Ten Things I Am Thankful For:

    1.) I am not Naomi Campbell's personal assistant.

    2.) I am not Kirstie Alley's lactating publicist.

    3.) I have not been married to Liza Minelli, nor have I ever been her assistant/chauffeur; ergo, I have never had to be her physically-abused sex slave.

    4.) I have never lip-synched on a national live television show, freaked-out, done a crazy jig, left the stage, blamed my band, blamed acid-reflux disease, blamed my drummer (again), took refuge behind my stage dad, and then tried to get back onto the show at a later date to showcase my awesome "voice."

    5.) I have never had a giant, surgery-scarred boob fall out of my dress on the red carpet at P. Diddy's Birthday Bash.

    6.) I have never had to converse with Paris Hilton, and god willing, I never will.

    7.) My mom is awesome and is not Courtney Love. Nor is she Anna-Nicole Smith.

    8.) I am not Nicole Kidman, so I have never had to be Tom Cruise's beard, kiss Lenny Kravitz or Steve Bing, inject Botox into every pore on my body, look like Mary, Queen of Scots, or speak with an Australian accent.

    9.) I have many great and wonderful friends, none of whom are Bijou Philips.

    10.) I am not carrying the fruit of Kevin Federline's loins in my Cheeto-filled belly.

    Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

    Tuesday, November 23, 2004

    Time for poll results! For a long time, the teen star most likely to end up in a home-made porno tape was far and away Miss Lindsay Lohan--she had almost ALL of the votes!--and she still wins, BIG, but with only 57%, due to the last-minute showing of Ashlee "Acid Reflux" Simpson, with a strong 24%. Third place went to Mary-Kate Olsen; Ashley "The Fat One" Olsen and Anne Hathaway tied for fourth; and Hillary Duff has apparently fooled you all into believing her Little Miss Goody-Goody image, because she came in dead last with NO votes at all.

    In honor of my Kirstie Alley/Star Magazine hissy fit in the last post, the new poll is: Who would you most like to have "fat sex" with? Poll is on the lower left, as usual. Sadly, there are not as many fat celebrities as there used to be--James Coco, Marlon Brando, Mama Cass, Chris Farley, Fatty Arbuckle, Zero Mostel, Kate Smith--all dead; Carnie Wilson, Al Roker, Ricki Lake--all gastric-bypassed. Tragic! A moment of silence for our fallen heroes. OK, now go vote...
    No good non-news today, so here's a Star Magazine review instead. Brace yourself, I have some rather harsh things to say about my beloved trashazine. Now, anyone who knows me knows how much I adore and cherish my precious Star...however, I think a little tough love is called for right now. The Star is adrift; nay, perhaps even going down a path full of wickedness.

    My main concern is the dangerous game they are playing with their covers. This is the SECOND ONE IN A ROW that has first dazzled me with its awesome claims, only to cruelly, CRUELLY disappoint once the accompanying article was actually read. Last week it was "Jessica Simpson's New Scandal: HER WILD NIGHT WITH 2 NAKED MEN! (A Goody-Goody No More!) Is Her Marriage To Nick A Sham Now?"--oh, how my feverish mind raced with the idea that Daddy's Good Little Girl had participated in some perverted, tawdry sex show...but nooooooooooooooo. It turns out she went to a lame Puppetry of the Penis performance with some friends. YAWN--and shame on you, Star, for getting me all titillated with misleading claims!

    Now comes the current issue, and it's the same damn thing: "260 lb Kirstie: TOO FAT FOR SEX! Still Can't Stop Pigging Out!" OK. The picture is great--Kirstie Alley is wearing a caftan and giving the double bird (oddly, one finger is x-ed out with a star, while the other is in plain view...were they rushing this one to print or what? I guess Sexless Fat Kirstie is such hot news they didn't even remember to x-out the second finger.) Anyway, this is the kind of story that makes a girl like me happy to be alive; what does this MEAN, exactly, this "too fat for sex"? That she is UNABLE to perform any sex acts because she'll drop dead of a heart attack? That she would surely crush a man to death under her enormous girth? (Although I did note that Star has backed off it's previous accusation that she weighs 300 pounds.) How intriguiing!

    Eagerly, like a young girl rushing to open her presents on Christmas morning, I flipped to the article to find out what was going on...Where I found out that this whole thing was simply a re-hash of what Ms. Alley had said on Oprah--yes that's right, I said OPRAH--about not liking to have "fat sex" (whatever THAT means), I suppose due to self-loathing. THAT'S IT. I felt like I got socks for Christmas instead of CHA CHA HEELS LIKE I WANTED! Damn you Star Magazine--damn you to hell! Sure, she mentions that she hasn't had sex in four and a half years (and Star kindly calls her "sex-starved"), but really. This is false advertising! Because actually the article wasn't even about sex at all--or even fatness! It was all about Kirstie being tempermental on the set of her show "Fat Actress," being moody and two-faced and whatnot. BORING. They do, however, mention that in one scene, she gives Kid Rock a lap dance to "Baby Got Back" by Sir Mix-a-Lot. Sadly, they also report that Kirstie has lost sixteen pounds out of concern for her health (and snark that "it's barely a dent") and is set to write a book called "How To Lose Your Ass and Regain Your Life," which is a sad, sad title for a book--can't one have both? Can't one?

    I'm sure Star was just trying to bask a little in the reflected glow of the Great Kirstie Alley Possum-Nursing Story of 2004, but the whole thing makes me feel dirty--and used. Used, I say! J'accuse, Star Magazine. J'accuse!

    There were some ok things, though, in the rest of the magazine, I have to admit. A detailed four-page blow-by-blow account of Star Jones wedding to her possibly gay husband Al Reynolds and a claim (by "sources") that Britney Spears is 8 weeks pregnant with a giant Cheeto. (They also include her "Honeymoon Poem" in its entirety; a sample verse: "A meal, a shower and some ice cream, Then I throw my man down, you know what I mean!")

    But here we go again: A great-headlined/not-so-great actual story: "18-Year-Old Lindsay Lohan Goes Berserk Over Wilmer Bust Up"--turns out she called up a friend crying and screaming after he dumped her. THAT'S "berserk"? If you want "berserk" my friends, look to the example of an old pro like Ms. Liza Minelli, currently being sued by her freakish gay ex-husband for spousal abuse AND by her ex-assistant for battery and sexual slavery (I assume it was slavery; what other kind could there be when you're with Liza with a Z? Hey, I just made a rhyme, like Britney!) Or take a gander at Mariah Carey, who had a full-on mental breakdown on national television, babbling inchoherently and taking off all her clothes? Even Naomi "I Never Met An Assistant I Couldn't Beat Up" Campbell was more out of control than lil' ol amateur Lindsay Lohan. "Berserk." Harrumph.

    Sure, I complain, but it's out of love, Star Magazine, LOVE! Now get back to doing the good trashtastic non-news I can actually use.

    Monday, November 22, 2004

    Well, it's Monday, which of course means it's "Naomi Campbell Assaults An Underling" Day! Hurrah! Yes, apparently La Campbell couldn't help herself from striking YET ANOTHER assistant about the head and face; THIS time, however, she made it a little more interesting by biting the lackey on the lip and shrieking obscenities at her as well. A supermodel has to keep from gettiing bored, now doesn't she?

    WENN, taking it's cue from the ultra-reliable The News of The World, reports:

    "Naomi Campbell's former personal assistant is seeking legal action after claiming she was violently attacked by the supermodel two weeks ago.

    In an exclusive interview with British newspaper The News Of The World, personal assistant Amie Castaldo alleges the 34-year-old-model hit her in the face, bit her on the lip and yanked her to the floor screaming: "You f***ing worthless bitch," when she tried to quit her job.

    Castoldo - who has reportedly had medical treatment for the back injuries suffered in the incident - is now taking legal action against her former boss. Castoldo says, "There is no end to the humiliation I suffered. She 100 percent needs to get help."

    Police have now filed a report on the incident which allegedly occurred at Campbell's penthouse apartment in New York.

    Campbell's spokesperson denies the model lashed out, saying, "It became clear after a few days that Amie was not going to work out. Naomi ended the brief working relationship in a professional manner and wishes Amie the best."

    Six years ago, the beauty was sentenced to attend anger-management classes after striking her personal assistant Georgina Galanis with a mobile phone, and is currently being sued for assault by former assistant Simone Craig."

    AWESOME. I really have nothing to say on this subject; it's sublime perfection would only be sullied by my paltry attempts at humor. This stands alone. Brava, Naomi Campbell, BRAVA!

    Thursday, November 18, 2004

    The poll results are in, and the celebrity it would be the biggest nightmare to be shackled to for the rest of your life is...CARROT TOP IN A LANDSLIDE! He was far and away the least-wanted husband, at 57% of the vote. Apparently, the ladies really, REALLY don't want to be married to comedians, as Robin Williams came in second place, with 17%. Dudes said ixnay to Paris "P. Hole" Hilton, with 9%, and the rest of the contenders--Jessica Simpson, Corey Feldman, Kevin Federline, and Joan Rivers--all tied for last place with 4% each.

    I can't believe more people didn't choose Corey Feldman--did ANYONE see his season of "The Surreal Life?" He was a jackass and an incredibly annoying BABY!! Every single one of his housemates--from Vince Neil to the guy who played Webster--hated his guts. He was a pompous, sanctimonious vegetarian who lectured everyone on their food choices and got married in a puffy shirt/velvet breeches Renaissance Faire outfit--ON THE SHOW--when no one else was in costume. I'm just sayin' I might actually pick Carrot Top over THAT. At least Carrot Top has a job. Well, at least I can console myself that more people would rather be married to Joan Rivers than Paris "P. Hole" Hilton.

    The new poll may seem a little distasteful in these rigidly conservative days, but who cares? It could be Armageddon soon! Consider this important question: Which teen star is the most likely to end up in a home-made porno tape? As always, the poll is on the lower left, get to it!

    Wednesday, November 17, 2004

    Not much non-news today, I'm afraid. And the only semi-interesting item is about Nicole Kidman (blech!) and Liz "I Would Kill Myself If I Was As Fat As Marilyn Monroe" Hurley's yucky baby daddy Steve Bing, but what the hell. From the NY Daily News:

    "Nicole Kidman and Steve Bing are trying to stay in the shadows of love - but not too successfully.

    The actress, 37, and the billionaire film producer, 39, had drinks Saturday night in the outdoor section of the Beverly Hills Hotel's Polo Lounge. 'Everyone else had candles on their tables,' a spy tells us. 'But they'd blown theirs out.'

    No wonder. Our witness testifies: 'They were kissing. It wasn't some little peck. It was an open-mouth lip-lock.'"

    (Let me just pause here to go "Eeeeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwww!" OK, back to the report already in progress:)

    "Another source reports that Bing's car has been spotted outside the pad that Kidman has been renting in Los Angeles while she shoots "Bewitched."

    In the last few weeks, the pair have twice had dinner at Il Cantinori here. Once they were with pals and, yesterday, Kidman's rep insisted that she and Bing are just that - "good friends who have mutual friends."

    But another source says, 'I could see Nic going for him. She likes bad boys who always wear jeans and a T-shirt.'"

    (Sorry, I have to cut in here so I can do a spit-take. OK, that's better. Back we go!)

    "Wherever it's going, Kidman's rep wants it known that her health is just fine - despite photos in The National Enquirer showing her with radish-red hands.

    The tab quotes one doctor as saying the redness could be a symptom of a variety of ailments, including "Raynaud's Phenomenon, lupus, scleroderma [and] rheumatoid arthritis."

    Kidmen's rep believes the photos, 'which I think are enhanced,' show 'that she had cold hands when she walked in from outside. She's healthier than you and I.'"

    Personally, I think Ms. Nicole Kidman injected her hands in a Botox frenzy. Or else she is channeling Lady Macbeth and simply can't get the blood off her hands. Whatever! But seriously, does she have the worst taste in men in the universe (except for that Q-Tip rumor, which I refuse to believe), or what? Lenny Kravitz? Steve Bing? TOM CRUISE? Shudder!

    Tuesday, November 16, 2004

    I heart crazy ladies!
    Image Hosted by ImageShack.us
    OK, maybe God likes me a little bit after all...from Page Six, we have a veritable cavalcade of my favorite kinds of gossip: mall beatings, drunk girl fighting, and gay husbands!

    Up first: The Hideous Troll-Doll Gotti Boys Get A Smack-Down!

    "VIictoria Gotti's sons Carmine, 18, and John, 17, took a beating last weekend after they allegedly harassed a 15-year-old girl at a Long Island mall.

    The 17-year-old brother of the aggrieved girl delivered a beat-down to the Gotti boys after they "pinched her butt and made disgusting comments" at the Roosevelt Field Mall on Saturday, says our source.

    The enraged brother and two of his friends approached the Gottis and their 10-person crew after his sister complained about their boorish behavior.

    'Next thing you know this kid was really beating the c- -p out of Carmine,' a witness to the melee told PAGE SIX. 'All the Gotti friends were taking cheap shots, punching and kicking the back of this kid's head, but he didn't care. He just continued to beat Carmine till he was bloody, and then he went after John and whupped him, too.'...

    Mall security guards and police broke up the fracas, but no charges have been filed. Our source claimed that mall security had received "several complaints" about the Gottis' behavior prior to the fight from fed-up store owners and shoppers.

    'One security guard said they got a complaint from the mother of a 12-year-old girl the Gottis and their friends had harassed,' another witness said.

    The youth who beat up the Gottis 'was like 5-foot-10,' not that big. Their grandfather [John Gotti] would be rolling over in his grave if he saw that. They not only fought like cowards, they're a bunch of wimps.'"

    Hee hee! I hope they don't find a certain 17-year-old boy sleeping with the fishes anytime soon. And can I just repeat ONE MORE TIME that Victoria Gotti's sons last name is NOT GOTTI!!!

    In other delightful non-news, Bijou Phillips lives up to her reputation by bustin' out her lethal purse and swingin' away in a drunken rage at a party. Yee hah!

    "Hollywood hellcat Bijou Phillips is at it again. We're told security guards at the Teen People party at the Key Club in L.A. Sunday night carried Phillips out of the bash in a "bear hug" after she swung her purse at the magazine's music editor, Zena Burns.

    Phillips flipped out after she left the VIP room and was not allowed back in. She cursed at the guards and belted Burns with her bag when she tried to intervene.

    'Zena was trying to calm her down, but Bijou was in such a frenzy that she said, '[Bleep] you, too!' and swung her purse at her,' says our spy. A flack for Phillips did not return calls."

    What I love most about Bijou, and there's a LOT to love, is that she is one of those semi-famous people who are semi-famous for no discernable reason, like Paris "P. Hole" Hilton. Sure, her father was Papa John Phillips, and she's done a lil' modeling, but other than that she is mainly famous for a) partying, b) getting really dizrunk/high at parties, and c) going to parties with Tara Reid. I kind of admire that in a girl. Also, I love that we live in a world where someone named "Zena" gets whacked in the head by someone named "Bijou."

    And finally, we have this piece of froth about the new Mr. Star Jones, the possibly-gay Al Reynolds, who apparently had a HUMDINGER of a pre-wedding party this weekend:

    "On Friday, [Reynolds] held his "Roman Baths"-themed bachelor party at the Time Hotel.

    'It was so uncomfortable,' said our spy. 'You had to sign a confidentiality agreement to get in and then you were sent to the penthouse, where they made you get naked.'

    All clothes were put into plastic bags on the floor and the 60 men were given bathrobes to put on.

    'We sat basically naked in a freezing room for a couple of hours,' says an attendee. 'There were only two bars and they were sponsored by Hypnotiq, Remy and some awful beer. At 11:50 p.m., 10 topless girls came out. They were butt-ugly except for two of them who simulated lesbian sex on the bed. Ten people left immediately — it was very uncomfortable.'

    Jones' rep declined comment."

    Ha ha! I love that Al felt the need to prove his heterosexuality by making his all-male nude buddies watch a female sex show. AND that said show had corporate sponsors! Me and Mrs....Mrs. Jones...Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones. We got a thiiiiing goin' on...INDEED.


    Damn it! I watched a teeny, tiny ultra-boring part of the American Music Awards this weekend, and all I saw was stupid Usher in his stupid sunglasses acting pompous and stupid. And what did I miss? Only THIS:

    From WENN on IMDB:

    "Fans of busty Anna Nicole Smith are fearing for the model's sanity after her rambling Kanye West introduction at the American Music Awards on Sunday night.

    Smith, who arrived at the show 10 minutes after it had started, appeared drunk onstage, and her short speech, which began as she slurred, "Like my body?" was cut short when producers feared she would do something shameful.

    But she insists her current state of mind has been swayed by her recent weight loss and constant taunts about being stupid. She explains, "I liked me better bigger because now I'm too bony. I'm just portrayed as some bimbo, and never taken seriously."

    Smith then staggered around backstage, and had to be helped to stand up by two bodyguards."

    Why does God hate me?

    Here's more proof that He, at the very least, doesn't like me much:

    "Former Cheers star Kirstie Alley is happy the American tabloids have been poking fun at her size because she would never have known just how big she was if it wasn't for paparazzi pictures.

    The larger-than-life actress is now slowly trying to get back into shape and has lost weight over the summer - and she credits those who mocked her with giving her the will to shed the pounds.

    She says, "I didn't know how fat I was. I mean, thanks to the tabloids, I found out how fat I was. I sort of wasn't paying attention."

    And she confesses the time she was mistaken for a pregnant woman was the turning point. She adds, "It was about eight months ago and I got out of a car at a hotel and the valet person said, 'When are you due?' I just said, '11 weeks.'"

    Alley reveals she's delighted to be on the way back to being a normal weight because she now realizes how terrible life is when you're fat. She explains, 'It makes life uncomfortable. I can't move as fast, I can't jump around as much, I can't dress the way I want to. It's an inconvenience to me more than anything.'"--WENN/IMDB

    Boo, hiss! Kirstie Alley, what are you thinking? First you ruin my blog by providing the most outrageously stupid celebrity story EVER (getting your pet possum nursed by a lactating press agent) and now THIS! It's an outrage! Being ginormous is the best thing for your career--and mine! What about "Fat Actress?" What about my line of Fat Pride Bracelets? What about ME? You are so incredibly selfish, Kirstie Alley. It's all about you and your damn health and longevity and self-esteem and whatnot. Harrumph.

    Monday, November 15, 2004

    Poll results are in! The awesomest catfight is a tie: Lindsay Lohan vs. Hillary Duff, and Star Jones vs. her possibly-gay fiance Al Reynolds, both with 28%. Catherine Zeta Jones vs. anyone came in second, with 24%; Shar Jackson vs. Britney Spears (dance-off counts) were third with 16%; and poor old Naomi Campbell vs. an underling came in dead last with a measly 4% of the vote. Personally, I would LOVE to witness a cell-phone wielding Naomi Campbell striking an underling about the head and face, although perhaps not QUITE as much as I would like to see a Britney/Shar dance-off. ANY dance-off would do, though, really. I love a dance-off! Somebody needs to get SERVED around here, pronto!

    Today's new poll: You are forced to get married at gunpoint. Who would be the biggest nightmare to be stuck with for the rest of your life? Poll is at the bottom left--make me proud!

    Also today we have a "blind item" from the NY Post:

    "Which actor, who has strayed before, is straying again from his politically connected wife? While he doesn't consider a certain sex act to be cheating, he is still practicing it on several young hotties — and was most recently caught by an assistant two weeks ago in a hotel room with yet another nubile beauty."

    Hmmm. There aren't THAT many "politcally connected" wives in Hollywood. The obvious choice would be Arnold the Gubenator and Maria Shriver, but that seems a little...TOO obvious. I always think the easy answer is a trick. Which is why I am frequently wrong. Barbra Stresiand and James Brolin? I think he's too terrified to do something like that. And she's not so much "connected" as she is "bossy." Hmmm. If anyone has any bright ideas, send 'em to me. We could do a poll! I'm obsessed with my poll. Huzzah!

    Friday, November 12, 2004

    Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell are splitsville! According to WENN, Goldie wants to realize her dream of "travelling the world," especially India, because she is a Buddhist. Huh. OK. She is also allegedly spending some special quality time with a legendary Pakistani cricketeer. Curiouser and curiouser! Apparently Kurt is not taking it well AT ALL, and is arguing constantly with his totally A-list costars Kelly Preston and Lynda Carter on the set of their new surefire hit movie "Sky High." Who knows if this is even true? Who cares? Pakistani cricket players! Lynda Carter! I am aswoon.

    Speaking of swooning, I am stating here in front of the Internets and everyone that I heart Omar Sharif. Just read this report from WENN and you'll understnd why:

    "Movie legend Omar Sharif proved he still has his hell-raising ways intact at 72, after reportedly beating up a fellow actor in a drunken brawl in India.

    The Lawrence Of Arabia star reportedly quarreled with Lord Of The Rings: The Return Of The King villain John Noble in a Jodhpur hotel - and then hit him with a lamp, according to British newspaper the Daily Mirror.

    The two stars, in India filming One Night With The King with Sharif's Lawrence of Arabia co-star Peter O'Toole, stopped fighting as soon as the lamp smashed, according to fellow revelers. One says, 'The conversation developed into a major disagreement between John and Omar, although no one is quite sure what it was about.' Sharif was arrested in France this summer after head-butting a policeman during a fracas in a casino."

    AWESOME. I love, love, LOVE a 72-year-old Egyptian hell-raising, lamp-smsashing master bridge player! YES I DO! AND he's got Peter O'Toole in tow! Now, if we could just get Rip Torn to the party it would be PERFECT. A girl can dream can't she? Sigh.

    Oh, just to clarify a point with the Catfight Mini-Poll: Al Reynolds is Star Jones' possibly gay fiance. Results of the poll coming soon!

    Thursday, November 11, 2004

    The poll results are in! Despite voter intimidation, shoddy exit polls, and numerous e-ballot glitches, Felt Up is ready to call this thing RIGHT NOW: Paris "P. Hole" Hilton is The Skankiest in the Land--by a landslide! Tara Reid and Britney Spears share second place, while Kevin Federline and Lindsay Lohan tie for third. Here's how it broke down:

    P. Hole--50%
    Tara Reid--19%
    Britney Spears--19%
    Lindsay Lohan--6%
    Kevin Federline--6%

    Wow, democracy in action! The people have SPOKEN. On to the next one! Today's poll topic is...Which catfight would be the awesomest? The poll is down at the bottom left, get to it!

    Here's some more excitement for you: Felt Up is no longer going to be an empire of one. I am about to launch an all-political blog--but don't let that scare you. The wit, beauty--dare may I say?--BRILLIANCE that you have come to expect from Felt Up will still be sorely lacking in my new blog, but with a more leftie/political/pro-active slant. The revolution will be blogged! Don't get me wrong. I luuuuuuuuuuuuuv the non-news and will not slack off on my first love--ridiculous celebrity gossip. It's just that with all the crap that's going on I feel compelled to take a tiny, ineffectual stand against THE MAN.

    Here's where you come in, loyal Felt Up reader (or Tara Reid nipple seeker): I need a name for the new blog. Felt Up was originally designed as a showcase for my rapidly dwindling felt craft empire (I have a lot of empires); hence the once-clever-now-meaningless title. But the new blog name, well...I want it to have some zing! Snap! Pow! Something that will say: Here I am world, ready or not! (Also it should say, please world, don't send me a lot of nasty messages from right-wing zealots.) So, I am issuing a challenge, a CONTEST, if you will, for the best name for my new blog. Please e-mail any and all ideas (via GET FELT UP on left). The winner will get:

    My eternal gratitude.
    International fame.
    A virtual pat on the back.
    A place in my heart forever.
    Bragging rights.
    A feeling of smug superiority.

    May the best blog win!

    Tuesday, November 09, 2004

    Wow, I got a mini-poll! Go down to the bottom left of the page and it's right there! Cast your vote for Skankiest in the Land--and don't worry, in MY world, every vote actually does count!
    A momentous occasion: "Tara Reid's Nipple" has just surpassed "Mary-Kate Ana Bracelet" as the all-time number one search engine query for Felt Up. This immensely important story also increased Felt Up's page views by approximatley 5,000% in one day. Thank you, Tara's tata, thank you very much indeed.
    Not much non-news today, so how's about a re-hash of the new Star, huh? Ooh, goodie!

    Brilliant cover, as usual: "Renee Zellweger: From Bridget Jones To...SKIN & BONES! Is She Addicted to Deadly Dieting? Is She Losing Her Hair? NOW! 100 Lbs. PLUS! More Skeletal Stars Inside!" AWESOME! The photo shows Renee with dark hair, black dress, and pale skin, looking wan. The accompanying story is titled "Now She's BRIDGET BONES!" Double awesome!

    There is some speculation that Renee's new "goth" look is an attempt to please her man, Jack White of the White Stripes. Also some talk about Renee being hyper-sensitive to criticism, with a great mention of her throwing a hissy fit in her limo after she lost the 2003 Best Actress Oscar: "She was devastated...she even tore part of her red Carolina Herrera dress in the limo." Hee hee! So what about the losing-her-hair angle? Weeeell, one Philip Goglia, co-founder of Performance Fitness Concepts in Santa Monica, California, says that Renee "looks like she's losing hair, and thre's a widening of her hair part" (sound of me frantically flipping to look at Renee's head) "that likely means severe nutrient deficiencies." Oh, nutrients shmutrients! Renee is a STAR, baby, and she's not going to let malnutrtion, rickets, or a teensy case of female-patterned baldness stand in the way of Jack White-approved emaciated gothiness!

    The other skeletal stars, AKA "Hollywood's New PENCIL SET!", include Gwen Stefani (who is taken to task for being both too skinny now, and too fat three years ago), Kelly Ripa (yawn), and Amanda Bynes (What A Girl Wants is a damned sandwich!).

    In other parts of the Star, there's a DELIGHTFUL four-page spread on my all-time favorite divorcee-who-had-surgery-to-look-like-a-cat Jocelyn Wildenstein! Yippee! The article is ostensibly about her incredibly hideous jungle/safari-themed (natch) NYC apartment, but really it's just an excuse to publish photos of the shocking face of the 59-year-old feline-wannabe. Kudos, crazy cat lady, kudos!

    I'd like to take a moment here to applaud a brand-new feauture in Star: The Star Diva Meter! They apply this brilliant new visual device to a story about the stars of "Desperate Housewives" (Nicollette Sheridan is a Total Diva, Felicity Huffman is the Anti-Diva, and all the rest of them merely have Diva Tendencies). In an article about Star Jones' possibly-gay hubby-to-be, Al Reynolds (headlined "Bridezilla Spawns Groomzilla!"), Star reports that Al "tried to strong-arm" a free, custom-tailored tuxedo from "a top American fashion house" in exchange for priceless publicity on such fine programs as "Access Hollywood" and "Entertainment Tonight." The designer declined, even after Al made a terrifying threat: Give me the tux or I'll sic STAR JONES on you! The Star Diva Meter rates Al Reynolds "Off the Charts!" for his diva behavior!

    In the Normal/Not Normal section we have Tori Spelling bottle-feeding a teddy bear (Not Normal!), Nicolas Cage's bald head/bad combover (Not Normal!), Mischa Barton walking out of "Surviving Christmas" with her oily boyfriend (Normal!), Charlize Theron buying a bike (Boring!), and best of all, Tom Cruise throws like a girl! (Not Normal!)

    The rest of the Star is devoted to Nick and Jessica's rocky marriage, blah blah, Julia Roberts baby scare, blah blah; ooh here's a good one: "SIZE Doesn't Matter" about short/tall couples like Flava Flav and Brigitte Nielsen, Rod Stewart and Penny Lancaster, Mick Jagger and L'Wren Scott (who is 6'4"!), Malcolm in the Middle and whoever he's dating (she's 5'8", he's 5'4"), Janet Jackson and Jermaine Dupri (she towers over him, and she's 5'4"!). As a serial short dater (I often say that I have a long list of short people I'd like to avoid), I have this warning: Watch out, ladies! The wee ones can sneak up on you when you least expect it!

    Monday, November 08, 2004

    Well, you KNEW this would happen...Paris "P-Hole" Hilton, not content to let Tara Reid steal her whorish thunder, showed up on the red carpet recently and exposed her dyed-blonde nether regions to the four or five people on the planet who haven't already seen them. Here's a link--don't open at work, even though her bony ass is so tiny you have to squint just to figure out what's what:

  • Paris' Privates!


  • Next Up: Tara Reid one-ups her former role model by lying down on the red carpet with her legs spread and letting the world view her uterus with the speculum she brought for the occassion! Stay tuned!
    This just in: Tara Reid is an ACTRESS, dammit, and she want to be treated like one! Like, with respect and whatnot. Ms. Reid made this charming statement in a report carried by WENN:

    "Tara Reid is fed up with her reputation for being a 'retard' and cites friend Paris Hilton as her role model for overcoming her party girl image. The American Pie star, 28, is keen to outgrow her controversial persona and be taken more seriously in Hollywood.

    Reid says, 'I am known as this retard. I want to grow up. I don't want to be the drunk girl. It hurts my feelings when stuff is written about me. Paris seems to move on from situations all the time, why can't I?'"

    Ahh, yes. Drunk Girl wants to be taken seriously as a thespian, and sets herself some VERY strict new behavior guidelines:

    First, show up on the red carpet for P. Diddy's birthday party with red-rimmed nostrils and an entirely exposed boob hanging out of her dress like a besilliconed cow's udder.

    Second, talk to the press about not wanting to be known as "this retard." It's that kind of sensitive artiste talk that will really gain a gal some R-E-S-P-E-C-T.

    Third, look to P-Hole Hilton as a role model for seriousness, 'cause she's kind of like a blonder, uglier Eleanor Roosevelt type: People see her and think, "Why, there goes that wonderful, intelligent woman who has devoted her life to her family, to her country, and to the advancement of liberal ideals. Good show!"

    Yes, all in all I think it's a pretty good plan. I do have to make special note of one little detail, something that made me do an old-timey Vaudeville-style double-take: TARA REID IS ONLY 28 YEARS OLD! Whoa, man. That is simply AMAZING. I guess in party years that makes her about 97.

    Friday, November 05, 2004

    In these trying times it's nice to know that some things are still the same, that there's a teensy bit of NORMALCY in our topsy-turvy world. To wit: Tara Reid's boobies are blowin' in the wind! Well, one booby, anyway. I would post the pictures (yes, there are MULTIPLE pics of Tara's tata hangin' out of her dress at P. Diddy's birthday party--the sillicone apparently has numbed her ability to feel a cold breeze on her nipple!), but so many people freaked out over the Rupert-Everett-using-a-skull-as-codpiece picture I put up a while back that I am just going to give you pervs the link. Don't open at work unless your job is at Playboy Enterprises. Or possibly the California Governor's Mansion.

    Make sure and check out the SECOND PAGE for more boobalicious fun! Check out the one picture where a lackey seems to be pointin out her fashion faux pas, to little effect. Also note that the non-exposed bazoomba seems to rest about four feet above the other one on her chest. Yes, Mother Nature works in mysterious ways....

  • Tara's Tatas!

  • OK. I have to face facts and realize this is not the end of the world. (Well, actually it is, but that's delving into the realm of real news. Back in Lalaland, it's not. Hooray!) I just have to deal with it: There simply will never be another celeb story that lives up to the legend of Kirstie Alley having her pet baby possum nursed by her lactating publicist. Period. I have to move on. But it's so hard!

    So I half-heartedly give you today's top non-news reports:

    Nick Lachey and Jessica Simpson are still married!

    Britney is NOT, I repeat NOT, preggers! (Although the cited "proof" of her non-pregnancy was that she deliberately smoked a cigarrette in front of reporters--couldn't she just be dumber-n-trashier than ever?)

    Sigh. My heart's just not in it. THANKS A LOT KIRSTIE ALLEY! See if I make my "fat pride" bracelet NOW. Harrumph.


    Thursday, November 04, 2004

    I, like many of my friends, am extremely depressed about our current state of affairs. My personal prescription for recovery includes the following:

    1.) Scream/cry/mope/drag ass/sigh.

    2) Get drunk.

    3.) Go on a "trampage" while it's still possible (and legal).

    4.) Go into ostrich mode: Refuse to read, see, listen to, or encounter real news in any way, shape or form for at least one month.

    5.) Throw self down vomit-covered shame spiral.

    6.) Re-emerge into society, with renewed commitment to regime change. Begin strict training regimine; Start by dressing/talking like Che Guevara 24/7. Try to find fatigues in more flattering beige/black combo. THE REVOLUTION WILL BE BLOGGED.

    Right now, I'm still in ostrich mode and am trying very hard to only read/write about silly, light, FROTHY non-news items. Items that won't send me into a quivering rage. That take my mind off my troubles. That make me chuckle.

    However, I think I may have backed myself into a wee corner. After posting that Kirsie Alley possum-nursing story, I find that every other celeb gossip story I come across just doesn't cut the mustard, just doesn't QUITE live up to my new, extremely high, Kirstie Possum standards. Britney might be pregnant? YAWN. Is she pregnant with a possum? Then be gone with ye. Mary-Kate is back in NYC. YAWN. Is she eating possum meat as part of her anorexia recovery? Get outta here. Julia Roberts is mad that Catherine Zeta-Jones got higher billing in "Ocean's 12?" YAWN. Did top billing go to a lactating possum? THEN GET OUT OF MY FACE.

    Seriously, this may turn out to be a big problem. The future of this blog depends on celeb gossip stories that live up to someone wet-nursing Kirstie Alley's baby possum. IS IT POSSIBLE? Only time will tell. Stay tuned.

    Wednesday, November 03, 2004

    ¡Hola! Soy en México en donde viviré por los cuatro años próximos. ¡Va a ser muy, muy difícil conseguir noticias de la hospitalidad sin la televisión que mira, está leyendo los periódicos, o está buscando el Internet, pero encontraré una manera...que el Valium es impresionante!

    Tuesday, November 02, 2004

    OK. I said in my last post that it would take a Liza-caliber story to pull me away from election coverage, but then I saw THIS in Page Six:

    "Kirstie Alley once had her publicist wet-nurse her baby possum, according to the December issue of Vanity Fair...The possum story, told by...former editor Joanna Molloy, is hard to top.

    'I got a call one day from somebody out in L.A. who said, "You're never going to believe this, but I was at an event where Kirstie Alley brought her baby pet possum, and she was walking around with this thing, and all of a sudden it starts to go squeak, squeak, squeak. And Kirstie Alley goes, 'Oooh, ooh, baby, baby. Mommy's here.' And she turned to a publicist and said, 'Say, aren't you nursing a baby right now?' "

    The publicist, afraid of the possum's teeth, ended up expressing her breast milk into a bottle, which Alley then fed to the animal.

    Molloy recalls, 'And I called up the woman herself — I was like, OK, they're going to laugh me off both coasts, but no story is too crazy to check — and she said, "The answer is yes. I did it and, you know what, I'm proud of it." '"

    SEE? I'M ONLY HUMAN! I AM NOT MADE OF STONE! I AM BUT FLESH AND BLOOD, JUST LIKE A VERY LARGE POSSUM! And after reading today that the Ohio Repubicans get to send goon squads to intimidate black voters AFTER ALL, I needed some sweet relief, a little divertisement...And boy, did I get some! I think that may be the single greatest thing I have ever read. First of all, it's just totally awesome in every single way. Secondly, the lady who fed Kirstie Alley's possum her breast milk is PROUD of this fact and is willing to proclaim said pride to the world. If you'd read something like this in a novel, you'd think "Oh, that's a bit MUCH." But you would be WRONG. Hooray for HOLLYWOOD!
    Sorry if my attention is on the real news and not the non-news today. Barring a shocking new development in the ongoing Liza Minelli/David Guest/personal assistant lawsuit, I am going to be very busy today:

    1.) Fretting/flipping/freaking.

    2.) Converting all of my money into pesos and/or gold bullion.

    3.) Packing my bags.

    4.) Planning my escape/riot-n-loot route.

    5.) Doing a Google search for the finest Corgi veternarian in Mexico. Also for the finest Valium distributor.

    6.) Getting drunk.

    On the other hand, if Bush loses, I will only be doing 6.)

    GO OUT AND VOTE!

    Monday, November 01, 2004

    Sometimes I actually wish I had been called for jury duty. But only under very specific circumstances. Case in point:

    "Actor Rip Torn was cleared of drunk driving charges by a New York court Thursday. The Emmy-winning star, real name Elmore Torn, had stood accused of driving under the influence of alcohol after crashing into the back of a taxi in Greenwich Village, Manhattan earlier this year.

    The 73-year-old said after being acquitted, 'This is one of the great events in my life. To be in the hands of this wonderful jury. I love New York.' He then went on to shake each of the four male jurors by the hand and planted kisses on the two female jurors.

    After his arrest the Men In Black actor had been filmed hurling abuse at police officers and refusing to take a sobriety test. Defense lawyer Adam Levy asserted in his closing speech that Torn's outbursts were caused by anger at his mistreatment rather than drunkenness. Levy said that Torn was raging because he had been handcuffed for no reason and prevented from using the bathroom. He acknowledged that his client was embarrassed by his behavior, but asserted that he had only consumed two drinks on the night of the accident."--WENN/IDMB

    So, what two very important lessons did we learn from this report? One: Rip Torn knows how to treat the ladies. (Swoon!) And two: NEVER AGREE TO TAKE A SOBRIETY TEST. I guess I can put away my "FREE RIP!" signs now. Hurrah!

    Friday, October 29, 2004

    Just got the new Star, and of course, as promised, the cover screams: "Jessica Simpson's Husband Caught in CHEATING SCANDAL!" No new info, though, except that the bachelor party where all the action went down (as it were) started off at Hooters, naturellement. Also, the porn star and stripper began their live sex show at a nightclub, Nacional, before moving to the relative privacy of a sleazy L.A. music executive's home. Said music dude is shown in a side picture with Paris "P. Hole" Hilton and wearing an ultra-classy "got hos?" t-shirt. Well done, sir. A trifecta!

    In other old non-news, Star does an in-depth investigation into the very lavish, totally free wedding of Star "Bridezilla" Jones. Her betrothed, Al Reynolds, was reportedly seen cavorting in a Speedo at a gay bar in NYC recently, according to Page Six, but Star Magazine doesn't go there, for some unknown reason. They DO dish some interesting details about the upcoming sacred, holy nuptials, however. Such as: Jones sent wedding ettiquette guides to her guests, which pissed them off no end. One guest griped, "Imagine getting a brouchure in the mail telling you how to dress, how to arrive and how to behave!" IMAGINE! Star Mag. quotes another guest saying that Star Jones is basically just tacky, because she "wants everyone to wear white to her wedding--the bridesmaids, the groomsmen, and the guests. Everyone knows only the bride wears white to a wedding!" Star Mag. crows that Star Jones will have a 125-foot train on her wedding gown (hee hee!) and has a $10,500 Tiffany tray on her bridal registry. As Molly Shannon's "joyologist" used to say on SNL--I LOVE IT! I love it, love it, love it, LOVE it!! (Legs kicking up in the air.) I LOVE IT!

    Thursday, October 28, 2004

    Well, well, well. There seems to be futher evidence of trouble in paradise for America's favorite newlyweds. (When do they officially stop being "newlyweds" and start being merely married, huh? I guess about the time divorce proceedings begin!) The NY Post's "Dickie" Johnson is reporting--along with Star and the National Enquirer--that blissfully, sacredly married Nick Lachey cheated at a bachelor party for one of his friends who got married a few weeks ago:

    "Jessica Simpson's husband, Nick Lachey, could be in hot water with his ditzy missus over published reports that he two-timed her with porn star Jessica Jaymes at a wild bachelor party.

    Star magazine trumpets, "Jessica Simpson's Husband Caught in Cheating Scandal!" on its cover this week, and sister tabloid the National Enquirer chimes in with a story about Nick's X-rated exploits with Jaymes.

    But only PAGE SIX talked to Jaymes about what really happened at the Oct. 12 bachelor bash for Nick's longtime pal, sound engineer Sean Sullivan, where Jaymes was hired to perform in a girl-on-girl sex show.

    'I was hired to perform at a bachelor party,' Jaymes told us. 'And yes, Nick Lachey was there. I did a girl-on-girl show with another porn star, whose name I don't know. We brought over a lot of really cool vibrators and whipped cream and gear and stuff. There were toys used and naughty actions going on. Everyone had a really good time. That's really all I'm allowed to say.'

    The racy romp took place at the Hollywood Hills home of Cody Leibel, owner of C-Note Records. Jaymes — who has starred in movies like "If These Hips Could Talk" — frolicked with the other woman on a rug in the living room. The porn star pair later moved upstairs to continue the fun in a bedroom in full view of Lachey and his pals.

    'The guys are allowed to put money on me, and Nick put some money on me and that's about it,' Jaymes told The Post. 'I went home with my bodyguard later that night. Everything's been exaggerated.'

    But Jaymes — whom porn potentate Larry Flynt will name the "Hustler Honey of the Year" at his Hustler Club on West 51st Street next month — may have caused more trouble for Lachey's two-year marriage than she'd like to admit.

    As PAGE SIX first reported, Lachey, 30, and Simpson, 24, have feuded in recent months. The tension stems from the media scrutiny following the runaway success of their MTV show "Newlyweds" and, sources say, meddling by Simpson's pop svengali dad Joe Simpson, who also steers the career of her lip-synching sister, Ashlee."

    Hee hee hee! OK. First of all, I don't necessarily define "cheating" as "witnessing two porn stars peform girl-on-girl action at a bachelor party," although it certainly straddles the line. IT IS, however, sleazy and gross and totally yucky. AND he is married to a girl who had a complete freakout on national television when he attended a party at the Playboy Mansion. The mere presence of Bunnies on the same property was enough to send Jessica into a jealous nervous breakdown...How did he EXPECT his wife to react to his witnessing, and possibly interacting with, a live sex show put on by the Hustler Honey of the Year? He was playing with FIRE, and he knew it. Maybe he was looking for a way out of his living, hellish nightmare--AKA his marriage. Maybe this is Nick Lachey's desperate cry for help!

    Wednesday, October 27, 2004

    OMG! Keith Richards is going to play Johnny Depp's father in the "Pirates of the Caribbean" sequel! The fop factor is going to be over the top! Yippee!

    In other non-news, I have been following with great interest the Great Gay Dog Groomers Catfight of 2004, and now there are more developments. For those not in the know, a husband-and-husband team of NYC dog-groomers-to-the-stars got into a bit of a tiff this week and one of them stabbed the other with a pair of scissors. Now the NY Post's "Dick" Johnson reports that:

    "The gay dog groomer accused of stabbing his lover with a scissors says the alleged victim actually abused him — biting him on the nose, face and scrotum and sending him to the emergency room three times in as many years.

    Yesterday, The Post reported how celebrity dog groomer Howie Binder, co-owner of Doggie-Do & Pussycats, Too!, alleges that his lover and business partner, Larry Roth, attacked him with scissors during a violent spat.

    But Roth's lawyer, Joel S. Walter, told PAGE SIX that Roth was defending himself. 'Howie is a biter,' Walter says. 'He bites Larry all over his body. Larry has had Howie arrested before. This time, Howie was literally choking him to death when Larry grabbed the scissors.'

    Binder responded that he bit Roth only when the bigger man jumped on top of him. 'He is a 400-pound man, and I had to get him off me somehow,' said 160-pound Binder, who admitted he was arrested last year after hitting Roth with a cowboy boot.

    The ex-couple's pet primping shop, which has groomed the dogs of J.Lo, P. Diddy and Janet Jackson, is still open for business with Binder at the helm, even though Roth is seeking to split the company's assets."

    OK. First of all, I HAVE to figure out a way to incorporate the phrase "Howie is a biter" into my daily life. Secondly, how awesome is it that a dog-groomer is guilty of assault with a deadly cowboy boot? There is so much greatness in this tale--and yes, a little sadness, as well, like in all great love stories--that I don't even care that they are not famous. They have groomed the dogs and cats of the famous, so that is close enough for moi. However, I have one burning question: Who gets to keep the name "Doggie-Do and Pussycats, Too!"?