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!
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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.)


    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!