Monday, January 31, 2005

Well, I never thought I'd say this, but God Bless Lara Flynn Boyle! A totally reliable and always-thorough British newspaper is reporting that Wee Lara B. performed a nude pill-poppin' freak show on a trans-Atlantic flight! Huzzah!

From contactmusic.com:

"Movie beauty LARA FLYNN BOYLE has been accused of stripping nude and trying to seduce a fellow passenger during a recent first-class flight to London.

Passengers claim the MEN IN BLACK 2 star started behaving strangely halfway through the ten-hour British Airways journey from Los Angeles to the capital's Heathrow Airport.

But they were stunned when she stripped off her clothes and tried to climb into the bed of a sleeping stranger, reports British newspaper THE MAIL ON SUNDAY.

Flynn Boyle's publicist SARAH CULLIVER says, 'It genuinely is completely inconsistent with her character and behaviour.'

A BRITISH AIRWAYS spokeswoman confirms, 'First-class passengers on board Flight BA 282 from Los Angeles to Heathrow reported that a female passenger in the cabin was behaving strangely.'

A shocked witness adds, 'People recognised she was Lara Flynn Boyle and saw her popping pills on board early in the flight.

'She was starkers, woke a passenger up, tried to get into bed with him, pulled open the blind and said, "We're landing, get your clothes on," even though we were more than four hours away from London.'"

Can you imagine the shock and horror of waking up on an airplane and seeing a naked Lara Flynn Boyle trying to get under the covers with you? I bet the passenger had to be sedated. He is calling his attorneys right now to sue British Airways for "cruel and unusual punishment." He probably felt like William Shatner on that episode of "The Twilight Zone" where he sees a goblin on the wing of an airplane. Although I would much rather see a monstrous, hideous goblin than a monstrous, hideous Boyle any day of the week. Note that her publicist didn't even deny the story! God, this is the kind of thing that makes me giddy with delight. This and the word "starkers." Wowee!
Today is the one year anniversary of Felt Up: The Blog!

Ahh, January 31, 2004--I remember it well. There I was, a wanna-be blogette, a whippersnapper with nothing but grit and determination and a little thing called...hope. Hope that one day we might live in a world where gossipmongering is not considered gauche. Where libel does not carry a hefty fine and jail time. Where a girl can talk trash about complete strangers and still be respected in the morning. Where Tara Reid is not a crime. We still have a long way to go, but together, we can make that hope a reality.

Towards that lofty goal, here's a totally unfounded and probably untrue report about Jennifer Aniston from WENN:

"Movie beauty Jennifer Aniston has fuelled speculation she's dating her Derailed co-star Vincent Cassel by spending most of her free time with the French actor.

The 35-year-old actress - who ended her four-year marriage to actor Brad Pitt earlier this month - became close to 38-year-old Cassel while filming their latest movie on location in Chicago and London.

And the relationship has continued in Los Angeles, where post production work on the film continues, reports British newspaper the Daily Star.

A close source says, 'There's real chemistry between them. When they're together they speak almost in whispers, with eye contact all the time. Sometimes she will give that laugh, broad smile and play flirtatiously with her hair. If pressed, she'll tell you that Vincent is very close and very dear to her. But he seems much more than an agony uncle.'"

ATTENTION TERRI R.: Do not panic! STEP AWAY FROM THE COMPUTER! Good. Take a few deep breaths and count to ten. Good, good. Maybe get a drink of water. That's better. Now. We who love you know all too well about the strong, perhaps even illegal, feelings that you harbor toward this thugalicious Gallic thespian named Vincent Cassel. Mon dieu! But before you burn Jennifer Aniston in scrawny effigy, let's examine the facts. What do we REALLY know about this so-called "affair"? First, that it was reported in the "Daily Star." Doesn't that have a sort of pinko sound to it? What do Communists know about celebrity gossip? At any rate, this rag is surely not of the same high journalistic caliber we've come to expect from Star and Us Weekly. And until I read it in "People," it's not true. Anyway, the only thing they are saying is that there is chemistry between them and that she keeps playing with her hair. A FOOT STOOL would have chemistry with Vincent Cassel! He's French and brutish! And she's probably playing with her hair to take her mind off the fact that she is not only on the verge of divorcing "The Sexiest Man Alive" (to some people) but also starving to death. Hair can sometimes remind a non-eater of pasta. Angel-hair pasta, to be exact.

Also, they fail to mention that he is married to Monica Belucci, the Italian slut who played Mary Magdalene in "The Passion" and famously pulled a Demi Moore by posing au naturelle for the cover of a magazine while preggers with Vincent's child, much to the horror of Italy, not to mention Terri R. Where is Monica in the above report? Answer: Nowhere. I bet those amateurs at the Daily Star didn't even know he was married! Scoff! Snort!

So, let's not jump the gun. Vincent Cassel will surely come to his senses and a) rebuff the ineffectual flirtations of a still-married chin-on-a-stick and b) divorce his suffocating (I'm assuming) harridan of a wife so he can c)continue to live on in the dirty fantasies of Terri R., unsullied and pure. The way God meant them.

Friday, January 28, 2005

The list of nominees for the 2005 Bloggies is up...And Felt Up is nowhere to be found. Thanks for the outpouring of support, people! No, really. It's not like I would want to attend the Bloggies--right here in my own home town--and get free drinks and schmooze with my fellow bloggers and get more free drinks and make my brilliant, witty, charming acceptance speech--the one I have been writing in my mind the past 30 or so years that I was going to use when I accepted my Academy Award for Best Actress--and get a few more free drinks for the road or anything like that. That's SO not my scene.

Heartfelt congratulations to the blogs that DID get nominated, blah blah blah.

If you would like to assuage your guilt by seeing how to nominate a certain fabulous gossip blog for NEXT YEAR'S Bloggies, go:

  • HERE


  • and repent! Bookmark that sucker!
    Unshocking new developments in the Doomed Doherty/Moss Affair: a.) His ex tells Kate that Pete is only after her money so he can buy drugs, and b.) It may already be over! Page Six reports that:

    "The ex-girlfriend of Kate Moss' new boyfriend, rocker Pete Doherty, has warned the supermodel he's just after Moss' moolah to buy drugs.

    As we reported yesterday, Moss has been hot and heavy with the ex-Libertines frontman, who reportedly has a $1,500-a-day habit.

    'They are a match made in hell,' Doherty's ex, Katie Lewis, told contactmusic.com. 'He's evil and twisted, and the only thing he wants her for is her money. People will hate me, I'll be blamed for splitting them up. [I] trusted him, and he killed me.'

    Meanwhile, the London Sun reports the new romance may have already cooled. The paper claims Moss text-messaged Doherty goodbye and then refused to take his calls."

    Stay tuned for more I-told-you-so details as they emerge!

    Also in Page Six was this little tidbit about every girl's secret beauty weapon: THE WIG. Specifically, the giant wig that will soon be put to work atop Beyonce Knowles' hardworking noggin:

    "The $50,000 blond wig destined for the pretty head of Beyonce Knowles has been drawing admirers at a salon in Paramus, N.J.

    Steppin' Out magazine's Chaunce Hayden tells us he came face-to-face with Beyonce's hairpiece last week in a back room of J/A Alternatives, where he was getting his hair cut.

    'It takes your breath away,' Hayden gushed. 'It's shockingly blond and about 3 feet long and very thick. It was sitting there on a Styrofoam head. It was like meeting Cousin It from 'The Addams Family!"'

    He said the wig was made in China over 10 days and made entirely from 'European hair.'"

    EEEWW! Her wig is in New Jersey? YUCK! I like to wear an enormous, 3-foot-long $50,000 blond wig as much as the next girl--I'm only human, I'm not made of stone, after all--but I don't want to know anything at all about where it came from, or what type of people "ponied" up their locks to make it!

    "European" is totally code for "white people," isnt' it? Something to think about.

    I like my incredibly fake wiglet I bought in Houston for $6 just fine, thank you very much. This all seems like an O. Henry story...Are there a bunch of European gentlemen buying expensive combs for their beloveds at this very moment? I'm getting a little teary-eyed just thinking about it...

    And, finally, yet another gem from Page Six. It seems that:

    "Liza Minnelli regaled fellow patients, nurses and visitors during a recent stay at the psychiatric division of N.Y. Presbyterian Hospital/Westchester Division in White Plains.

    'She was endearing and bubbly and very outgoing,' said a source.

    Minnelli — still grieving for composer Fred Ebb and missing friends like Halston — sang her classic tunes and reminisced about 'Cabaret,' 'The Sterile Cuckoo' and 'Arthur,' her Broadway stint as 'Liza With a Z,' and the horrible days with David Gest (although she said he did orchestrate a 'beautiful wedding').

    Minnelli is now busy rehearsing for her three-night gig at Westbury Music Fair Feb. 18-20."

    OK. First of all, Page Six left out one teensy-tiny detail: WHAT WAS LIZA DOING IN THE NUT HOUSE? Surely one can grieve for Halston at home (as I do), right? (And didn't Halson die approximately 100 years ago, in fashion time?) Is it because she fell out of bed in a drunken haze and had to be carried to the hospital by male attendants last month? What is going on? I HATE shoddy reporting of non-news!

    But what's really creepy is that Terri R. and I were watching "Arthur" JUST LAST NIGHT! And I was trying to remember the name of a particular Liza movie, to no avail! So I went home and IMDB'd the name "Liza Minelli" so I wouldn't go mad! (It was "The Sterile Cuckoo"! Which was just mentioned above!) I also wanted to prove to myself that Liza had essentially stopped making motion pictures after "Arthur 2: Love on the Rocks," and I was right! WHAT ARE THE ODDS?

    Actually, knowing Terri R. and me, they are pretty good. We would watch "Arthur" at the drop of a hat.

    We also watched "The Ellen DeGeneres Show" (Ellen getting a Tiffany bauble from Portia di Rossi was the LEAD story in Page Six today, go figure!) because Barry Manilow was on. We missed his rendition of "Copa Cabana," though, much to our chagrin. I used to sing the words, "Her name was Lola, Lola Falana" to that song all the time when I was little, which a.) REALLY dates me and b.) speaks to the unusal interests I had in my highly formative pre-teen years. Lola Falana, the one-time "Queen of Las Vegas," minor disco hit-maker, and soap-opera star, was a glamourous and multi-talented figure to the future Felt Up blogette, believe you me. She must have been on "The Love Boat," like, 5,000 times. Also "Fantasy Island" and "Circus of the Stars." Ahh, "Circus of the Stars," I've missed you, old friend...

    If you are interested in the life and times of Ms. Lola Falana, and you should be, check out her bio:

  • HERE!


  • Image Hosted by ImageShack.us

    Note that "her beautiful face was plastered on the cover of so many Italian magazines that she was hailed as the 'Black Venus.' It was once reported that over 500 Romans asked for Lola's hand in marriage during her sojourn in the country." What sensitive and inquisitive child of nine WOULDN'T be fascinated with such a person, may I ask?

    And, in yet another odd coincidence, there is a link to a bio of Candi Staton right next to Lola's, and I just bought the Best of Candi Staton CD THIS WEEK! (Insert me humming the theme to 'The Twilight Zone' and making scary bug eyes HERE.)

    Thursday, January 27, 2005

    Here's a little piece of first-hand backstage gossip for you: I had occasion to be filmed for a tv spot today, and a member of the crew said that he had worked on a show with Dweezil Zappa and Lisa Loeb. Miss Loeb, he said, was "the biggest bitch" he'd ever worked with, and was SO bad that he even might consdider her "the c-word." Snicker, snicker. Where in hell does LISA LOEB get the nerve to be difficult? Annoying one-hit wonders should be as pleasant and accomodating as possible, lest they end up getting peed upon by Mini Me on "The Surreal Life." That's all I'm sayin'.
    Page Six's lead item today is all about ex-druggie Kate Moss' extremely well-reasoned and ultra-smart love affair with current druggie Pete Doherty, former singer of The Libertines:

    "Supermodel Kate Moss' pals are worried over her hot new romance with a rock musician known as England's 'most famous drug addict.'

    Moss, 31, hooked up with ex-Libertines frontman Pete Doherty, 25, at her birthday bash earlier this month. The bad boy Brit rocker, a huge star in the U.K. who reportedly has a $1,500-a-day crack and heroin habit, was kicked out of the Libertines last year after failing to conquer his addiction...

    Doherty...spent two months in jail for burglarizing a former bandmate and has failed to make it through rehab.

    Moss, who had a baby girl, Lila Grace, with magazine editor Jefferson Hack in 2002 (they've since parted ways), tried to overcome her own addictions with a stint at London's Priory clinic in 1998. But her love of partying continues apace. Misadventures like an incident when she broke her toe last September suggest she hadn't curbed her wild ways...

    Doherty's manager, James Mullord, told the London Guardian he's not sure how long Doherty will stay alive given his self-destructive lifestyle.

    Doherty himself is optimistic, however, about his romance with Moss. 'I'm kicking drugs for her,' he told British TV show 'Orange Playlist' in an interview airing Feb. 17.

    'I've really found love with Kate. I think it will last,' Doherty insisted. 'She's good for me because she's got a beautiful soul and I think I can trust her . . . I believe her when she says she loves me and I know I mean it when I say I love her. We got each other's initial tattooed in little hearts.'

    The London Sun reports Moss has already introduced Doherty to her family."

    Now, before we cast the first stones, there ARE certain mitigating factors. Such as the total hottness of Pete Doherty. I mean just LOOK at this dreamboat:

    Image Hosted by ImageShack.us

    She'd be a fool NOT to throw herself at him! Hubba hubba! Seriously, could that face have been created in any gene pool other than England's? It takes thousands of years of pasty, frail, big-nosed DNA to produce a mug like that, let me tell you.

    And, of course, he might be dead soon, so that's pretty exciting. I do like The Libertines--but, uh, he's not in the band anymore. And his new band is called Babyshambles, which is possibly the worst band name I've ever heard in my life, second only to Squid Vicious.

    I have also been laboring under the delusion that Pete Doherty was totally gay with the guitar player from The Libertines, the one whose house he broke into to steal things so he could buy drugs a while back. What with all the songs being about each other and the non-stop "we love each other" innuendo and the photos sitting in each other's laps and whatnot. Silly me!

    Obviously, Kate knows what she is doing. She always has such an intelligent look about her, after all. Always so pleasant and unassuming. Thoughtful. Dignified. Ladylike. She is a mother and a supermodel, after all, and very mature and responsible for her age. Oh, wait--she's 31? Huh. I thought she was still 17. Oh.

    Still, though, we must all congratulate her on her doomed, sordid, drug-fueled love romp through the dark, hideous underbelly of London's rock scene. Any love that involves tiny tattoos of initials inside hearts is bound to succeed. Kudos, milady, kudos. Well-played!

    Wednesday, January 26, 2005

    Call me nutty, but I get some kind of sick thrill every time I read about another Star Jones outrage. She's just so incredibly over-the-top with her awfulness. She has absolutely NO shame, NONE--which is something I look for in my celebrities, let me tell you. The newest atrocity is yet another Bridezilla-related diva hissy-fit, yippee!

    Page Six led with this honey of a headline:


    "SPANKED STAR PLAYS HOOKEY"


    "Star Jones pulled a one-day 'sickout' from "The View" when ABC execs insisted on deleting all the plugs 'Bridezilla' gave to her wedding suppliers in a special airing tomorrow night.

    In the interview Jones and hubby Al Reynolds did the day after their Nov. 13 nuptials for 'InStyle Celebrity Weddings,' Jones mentioned the designers, florists, and hair and makeup people who provided their services for free in exchange for publicity.

    'All was fine until the special was shown to Andrea Wong, [executive] v.p. of alternative programming, and the ABC Broadcast Standards Department. That's when the [bleep] hit the fan," shared the insider. "ABC went ballistic and ordered a ton of edits.'

    The missing mentions from the InStyle special are quite obvious. For instance, when discussing the bride's cathedral-length veil, it shows the gown's creator, but a voice-over refers to her simply as 'her designer.'

    Jones did not appear on 'The View' on Jan. 7. 'When Star was told [about the InStyle editing], she staged a sickout protest,' our source relates. 'She said, "No one, including ABC, tells me what to say or what to do with my life."'

    'Star boycotted the show, and that is when she was immediately notified that [if] she did not heed ABC's warnings, she was going to be fired from "The View." This word came down from as high as Bob Iger.

    'Star has since not mentioned a word about her wedding on the advice of her own attorney and p.r. reps.'

    Jones' spokeswoman said: 'She's seen the special and adores it. Anyone who said she staged a sickout is lying. Star's a consummate professional.' ABC had no comment..."

    The story also mentioned that Star was nervous that if all these deals fell through she and her probably-gay husband Al Reynolds would have to ACTUALLY pay for all their wedding crap, like the little people do. HA! Wouldn't that be awesome?

    There is an online petition to "Stop Star Jones," which is pretty wonderful. Here's a quote:

    "There has never been a more self-centered lady in the early beginings of this century.

    As the audience of the American media, we are absolutely disgusted with having to listen and deal with this television personality. Please, we do not care about her wedding, her husband, her marriage, her blessedness, her God, her law degree, her 500 pairs of Payless Shoes and her upcoming book. And really, what exactly does she do?!"

    Yes, what indeed. A very good question. If you, too, are feeling helpless in the face of the perplexing media juggernaut that is Star Jones, empower yourself by signing the petition to STOP STAR JONES:

  • HERE!


  • If you get all giddy with taking a courageous stand, you might also want to sign the Stop Ashlee Simpson petition while you're at it, which states:

    "We, the undersigned, are disgusted with Ashlee Simpson's horrible singing and hereby ask her to stop."

    Participate in the democratic anti-suckitude process:

  • HERE!


  • Just to cleanse your palette, there's a wee item in WENN that Stockard "Rizzo" Channing was arrested for DUI in December after she was observed driving on the shoulder of a freeway in California:

    "Channing, 60, is due to be arraigned on February 9 in California Superior Court for 'unlawfully driving a vehicle while being under the influence of an alcoholic beverage and a drug.'"

    Oooh, a drug! Hurrah! I wonder which one? Don't you just bet Rizzo was all beligerent and haughty during her arrest? She's from a very wealthy, "old money"-type family, by the way, which I always find fascinating for some reason...She seems like a tough lady. A tough, boozey, druggie, rich older lady--what could be more awesome? If she and Carrie Fisher ever hung out together, the blowsy old broad quotient would be through the ROOF! God, I would love to party with those two...

    Oh, Stockard. Don't worry about this! Everyone loves you! There are worse things you could do!

    Tuesday, January 25, 2005

    The Oscar nominations have been announced, and all I can say for sure is that I have seen almost none of the nominated movies and yet feel totally confident in making some sweeping pronouncements on how I feel the awards should be doled out:

    BEST PICTURE: "Million Dollar Baby," "Finding Neverland," "The Aviator," "Sideways," "Ray."

    Out of all these movies, I have only seen "Sideways," and I liked it a lot. It may have been just slightly overrated, but was still damn good, so of course it hasn't a hope in hell. I think Oscar will pick "Million Dollar Baby."

    BEST ACTOR: Jamie Foxx, "Ray," Leonardo DiCaprio, "The Aviator," Don Cheadle, "Hotel Rwanda," Johnny Depp, "Finding Neverland," and Clint Eastwood, "Million Dollar Baby."

    Didn't see any of these performances, but I love Don Cheadle and would like to see him win, though of course, this is the kiss of death; the Oscar will totally go to Jamie Foxx. I can live with that.

    BEST ACTRESS: Annette Bening, "Being Julia," Hilary Swank, "Million Dollar Baby,"
    Catalina Sandino Moreno, "Maria Full of Grace," Kate Winslet, "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind," and Imelda Staunton, "Vera Drake."

    Only saw "Eternal Sunshine," and though I thought Kate Winslet was excellent, I doubt she will win. Hilary Swank beat out Annette Bening the last time they were both nominated, and Oscar hates to reward someone who's not that big a deal at the box office twice in a short period of time. Also, Annette Bening is part of Hollywood royalty by being married to Warren Beatty; she might be a sentimental favorite. That foreign chick, though, might be a wild card, much to Terri R.'s chagrin, who, unlike me, actually saw "Maria Full of Grace" and thought her performance quite flat and dullsville. So really, it's anyone's game. Imelda Staunton might win if only to make Hollywood feel good about a)older, non-sexy English actresses, b)Roe v. Wade, and c)Mike Leigh movies.


    BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR: Jamie Foxx, "Collateral," Alan Alda, "The Aviator," Thomas Haden Church, "Sideways," Morgan Freeman, "Million Dollar Baby," and Clive Owen, "Closer."

    Since Jamie Foxx is going to win Best Actor, it is unlikely that he will win this one, too, although not impossible. Thomas Haden Church would be the fun win, but Morgan Freeman is beloved by the Academy, and should not be discounted. I would like Clive Owen to win, if only for being totally hott. Alan Alda will not win because no one likes him. No one.

    BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS: Kate Blancett, "The Aviator," Laura Linney, "Kinsey," Virginia Madsen, "Sideways," Sophie Okonedo, "Hotel Rwanda," and Natalie Portman, "Closer."

    I liked Laura Linney a lot in "Kinsey," and now that I think about it, that movie really got shut out of the Oscars, huh? Damn red-staters' conservative morals! That was a good movie--Liam Neeson was great, and I can't believe Peter Scarsgaard didn't get a Best Supporting Actor nomination for his full-frontal nudity! Anyway, Kate Blanchett might win because they want to give some kind of acting award to "The Aviator," and she got a lot of huzzahs in the press for her Katherine Hepburn impersonation....Natalie Portman was annoying in "Closer" and also got to dance around topless with Clive Owen, plus she used to date Gael Garcia Bernal, so for the love of all things holy, don't give it to her, Oscar, I beg you! She's also 12 years old. Sophie Okonedo might win out of collective Academy guilt for Rwanda, but Virginia Madsen would be a nice pick because it would give hope to every pretty, older-than-Natalie-Portman actress on Earth.

    BEST DIRECTOR: Martin Scorsese, "The Aviator," Clint Eastwood, "Million Dollar Baby," Taylor Hackford, "Ray," Alexander Payne, "Sideways," Mike Leigh, "Vera Drake."

    Does anyone actually care who wins this? They might give it to Scorsese--not for "The Aviator," but for his lifetime achievement; Clint has won before, but might win again because he's getting up there in age and they might be scared he's going to keel over, although he seems quite fit; no way is it going to be Taylor Hackford--"Ray" is all about Jamie Foxx, and most people are probably unaware that movie even HAD a director. Mike Leigh is a maybe, because Hollywood has always been impressed with him and his anti-Hollywood ways, but maybe Alexander Payne will win becauase they are not going to give best picture to "Sideways."

    OK. Those are my totally uninformed, based-on-hearsay-and-innuendo, biased and arbitrary thoughts on this year's Academy Award nominations. Now, who wants to place some bets?

    I have been asked by a loyal Felt Up reader to self-impose a moratorium on anything having to do with Paris "P-Hole" Hilton. I agree with this concerned citizen that P-Hole's inanity, talentlessness, crassness, and ability to annoy knows no bounds. She must be stopped, and we must all do our part. It takes a village, people! And so I, your humble Felt Up blogette, do solemnly promise to not mention She Who Must Not Be Named ever again...or at least until she does something REALLY RIDICULOUS. Stay tuned to see how long I can keep my sacred vow..

    Wow! I feel cleaner already! OK, first up we have a little tidbit from Page Six about everyone's favorite wacked-out, rude, irresponsible, spoiled-brat model from "Project Runway":

    "Morgan Quinn, the naughty Next mannequin who is wreaking havoc on Bravo's 'Project Runway,' snarled a shoot for Carlisle clothing last week.

    Our source says that an hour after she was supposed to be there, the flighty Quinn called from her cellphone to say her cab had been struck by another car.

    The blond bombshell later walked off the set in tears, saying she'd suffered a concussion in the accident and felt 'dizzy.'

    Not only did Quinn lose her $8,000 payday, but Carlisle has slapped her with a $2,000 cancellation fee, Quinn says.

    'I'm not Naomi Campbell, you know,' she tearfully told PAGE SIX. 'I've had people say they don't wanna work with me after watching the show. It has hurt me. If it was a real job, I would have taken it more seriously — but it was a reality show about people who had three hours to make dresses!'

    While Quinn's kooky behavior made for some of the show's most memorable moments, it's worth noting that 'Runway' designers kept picking her to model their clothes because of her undeniable catwalk skills."

    Yes, and it's ALSO worth noting, Ms. Quinn, that the reason you lost your payday and had to cough up the cancellation fee is BECAUSE YOU CANCELLED! And yes, you are right, you are definitely NOT Naomi Campbell--until you start beating your underlings with a cellphone, you shall never be in Ms. Campbell's league. I bet you don't even HAVE any underlings, do you? Harrumph.

    I admit, though, that those designers on the show put up with her b.s. over and over again because of her runway prowess. Now if she would just shut the hell up and stop whining about how hard it is to be an $8,000-per-day blonde skinny young tv star/model, well...that would be just peachy.

    Page Six also has a juicy item about nutty nutball "actress/model" Bijou Phillips, with a nice little headline to boot:

    "BIJOU GOES BONKERS"

    "Hollywood hellcat Bijou Phillips nearly lost one of her nine lives after a run-in with Michelle Rodriguez, the Jersey City-bred toughie who showed off her boxing skills in the 2000 indie flick 'Girlfight.'

    Phillips, who was hanging out with XXXXX and Nicky Hilton, spit on Rodriguez's friend, Francesca, outside Kevin Mazur's photo studio on Saturday night.

    'Bijou I guess had lost a boyfriend to her, and so she spat on my friend,' Rodriguez told PAGE SIX yesterday.

    Phillips managed to get away from Rodriguez immediately after the incident, but the two-fisted 'Blue Crush' babe caught up with her later that night.

    'I told her to lay off my friend because that is some childish [bleep] and if she wanted to be childish, I could urinate on her,' Rodriguez said.

    'If she would have spit on me, I would have hurt her, believe me. I came here to meet directors — I didn't come her to deal with these childish little girls.'

    Earlier, a bonkers Bijou burst into the Kiehl's lounge yelling, 'An ax murderer is trying to kill me!'"

    I found this all rather confusing, as I do most things having to do with Bijou Phillips. Did she think Michelle Rodriguez was an axe murderer? Or was there another person who relished the idea of hacking her up into tiny pieces? God knows there's a lot of us out there. Hmmm.

    But seriously, Bijou, honey, let me tell you something straight up: Don't mess with Michelle Rodriguez. She is a scrappy Latina from NYC and she will CUT YOU. No ifs, and or buts. Actually, first, she will urinate on you, and THEN she will cut you. Yes, yes, Bijou, you're right, you DO have the crazy on your side, but trust me: This will all end in tears. YOURS. Watch your back.

    In other non-news, WENN reports that J. "Don't Call Me J.Lo" Lo is having some wee problems finishing her album, due to utter lack of talent:

    "Latina superstar Jennifer Lopez is reportedly struggling to complete her fourth original studio album Rebirth in time for its March release date.

    American network Fox News' correspondent Roger Friedman reports the singer rejected footage for a DVD documentary after her new manager, film producer Simon Fields, approved it without her permission.

    Fox sources say Lopez returned to the studio to re-shoot the video to be more 'flattering and less revealing of her limited vocal range'.

    However, Lopez's producers have welcomed the input of her third husband Marc Anthony, an experienced songwriter and singer."

    Heh. Yes, that's going to be a little difficult, finding a way to cover up her complete inability to sing. Hmmm, let's see....Maybe they could call in some CGI special effects people from LucasFilms? A magical "voice" fairy? Pixar? A ringer, a la 'Singin' in the Rain"? God almighty? Yeah, good luck with THAT.

    Now here's a headline to make a blogette giddy with glee:

    "Dunst Responds to Gallo's 'Witch' Claims"

    Although I was hoping this story had something to do with santeria ceremonies, Vincent Gallo as a voodoo high priest, and Kirsten Dunst making a deal with the devil, but this will have to do:

    "Hollywood star Kirsten Dunst has slammed film-maker Vincent Gallo's cruel remarks about her, after he attacked her for pulling out of his controversial flop film The Brown Bunny.

    The Spider-Man actress was set to play Daisy opposite Gallo in the 2004 drama and decided against the role at the last minute, leaving Gallo's ex-girlfriend Chloe Sevigny to take her place and infamously perform oral sex on Gallo in the film.

    Last week Gallo told American newspaper New York Post, 'I called her and told her that I was displeased that she had abandoned me on the day she was supposed to film. She became another person. She was a cold, curt, nasty little witch of a brat on the phone.'

    Dunst's agent has slammed Gallo's comments, claiming the actress quit the production after she realized it didn't conform to Screen Actors Guild (SAG) guidelines."

    Sure, sure, ole Vinnnie just called her up all friendly-like and said, "I am displeased." Nice and polite as could be. End of story. And really, what kind of evil witch would NOT want to throw her career down the drain by performing oral sex on an auteur of Vincent Gallo's magnitude? She sounds kinda crazy if you ask me...And also: HOW IN GOD'S NAME DID I MISS THIS QUOTE IN PAGE SIX? If you all never trust me again to serve up your trashy celeb news--free of charge and full of witty, brilliant insight--I will TOTALLY understand. I bring shame upon the House of Felt Up. Great dishonor and shame!

    Friday, January 21, 2005

    I like to spoil myself. And I don't just mean long baths, facials, manicures, and massages--although j'adore those as well. No, I am one of a rare breed: people who like to know the endings to movies (and books). I love, love, LOVE spoilers! It's kind of a sickness, I know. And to help me on my path to perdition is the website The Movie Spoiler, which is the newest enabler of my fiendish addiction. The site contains plot summaries of the top box-office movies each week, plus a small back catalog of older films. The summaries are written by amateurs and are sometimes good, mainly bad, but always full of spoiltastic fun!

    On a similar note, Michael Musto, fabulous None More Gay gossipeer at The Village Voice, loves to spoil movies for other people. In his current column ("La Dolce Musto"), he writes:

    "My favorite pervy thing to do is give away twisty endings of hot movies. In fact, for years I've practically orgasmed while running through crowds and screaming, 'They drive off a cliff,' 'The chick's got a dick,' and 'He's already dead!'"

    After which he spews out a string of savory spoilers for some of the big "shock" endings of the year. And I LOVED it! If only he didn't live in New York, I think this could've been the beginning of a beatiful friendship...

    To read badly-written but highly rewarding movie plot summaries at The Movie Spoiler, go:

  • HERE!


  • To read Michael Musto's much more fun and succinct spoilers, go:

  • HERE!


  • and scroll down to the bottom.

    To the winner goes the spoils!
    Here's a heartwarming headline from WENN:

    "Ozzy Not Dead"

    WHEW! That was a close one. The Internets have been ablaze with reports of Ozzy Osbourne's demise--reports which, apparently, were greatly exaggerated:

    "The rocker's publicists have been inundated with calls since early Thursday morning following reports that the Black Sabbath frontman had died.

    Top aide Jay Morose says, 'I don't normally pay these things any attention, but I got so many calls I felt I had to check. I can assure you Ozzy's fine and these rumors are not true.'

    The reports arose after Ozzy and his wife Sharon missed a scheduled appearance on last Thursday's The Tonight Show - and Arnold Schwarzenegger had to fill in for them at the last minute.

    Morose adds, 'I'm still not sure what happened with that. All I know is they were booked and didn't make it to the show.'

    Ozzy is currently holed up in Britain recording an all-star tsunami aid benefit single with daughter Kelly, Rod Stewart and Sir Elton John among others."

    How awesome is it that the dude's name is 'Morose?' As my mom would say, that should be MY name! And how NOT awesome is that tsunami single going to be? Haven't those people been through enough without a Kelly Osbourne/Rod Stewart singalong?

    WENN also reports that Bill Cosby is being accused by a Canadian lady of slipping her a mickey finn and then having his sordid way with her (I love using old-timey expressions! How often do you get to use "mickey finn" in this day and age? Answer: NOT OFTEN ENOUGH):

    "Funnyman Bill Cosby is at the middle of a shocking new assault scandal after an unnamed Canadian woman claimed he had sex with her at his Cheltenham Township home near Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

    The anonymous woman alleges Cosby invited her back to his home after meeting her at a local restaurant and gave her pills that made her dizzy after she complained of stress and tension.

    She admits her memory about what happened next on the night last January is fuzzy but she recalls Cosby allegedly touching her breast and placing her hand on his genitals.

    In a complaint made to Toronto Police, which has been passed to Philadelphia authorities to investigate, the woman claims she awoke at about 4am the following morning with her clothing in disarray and her bra undone."

    That is so untrue! How can people get away with these outrageous lies? Bill Cosby is NOT A FUNNYMAN!

    The sex stuff, well, yeah, I can believe that. We shall see.

    This last WENN item is old, haggard news, and I am about as sick of Paris "P-Hole" Hilton as is humanly possible (she's even on the cover of Jane this month, befouling my mailbox and talking about how she's made Hilton Hotels "cooler"--BLECH! SHE MAKES ME SICK!!), but if I don't put this up someone will just email me and demand it, so here. Here's your damn Paris Hilton story! I hope your happy, o cruel publique!

    "Socialite Paris Hilton is to face charges of theft and vandalism after allegedly stealing a copy of her One Night In Paris DVD from a Los Angeles newsstand last month.

    Images from the newsagents' surveillance camera have already appeared in US tabloids and seem to clearly show the Simple Life star reaching out for a copy of the X-rated DVD and then putting it in her bag.

    And now, according to scandal show Celebrity Justice, the Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department is getting involved.

    Swing News newsstand employee Jerry Castro, who was on duty when Hilton paid him a visit, claims the socialite was in great spirits until she saw her DVD was on sale.

    Castro says, 'As soon as she saw that we were selling her videos and we had her on display she was livid. She was using profanity to the ultimate. She threw her eighty cents change at me and took the video and said, "I'm taking this and I'm not buying it."'

    The surveillance video seems to back up Castro's claims that Paris not only took the DVD but also tried to rip a poster advertising it.

    The LA County Sheriff's Department now plans to refer the case to the Beverly Hills district attorney's office, recommending the hotel heiress be charged with petty theft and vandalism."

    You know what makes me the maddest about this story? The fact that I actually have a shred of sympathy for that hideous, soulless aberration of a human being. If it was me, and Lord knows there is a HUGE market out there for "One Night in Felt Up: The Blogette," I might have done the same. And is it really absolutely necessary to get the sheriff and DA involved? It's all pretty absurd. Even though I am convinced no jury would convict her, I must admit that the possiblitly of P-Hole having to spend a night or two in jail fills me with glee. But I would prefer her to be charged with crimes against good taste--nay, perhaps even humanity--rather than petty theft and vandalism...Oh, God, what is HAPPENING TO ME? What have I become? WHO AM I?

    Thursday, January 20, 2005

    Ben Kingsley has split up with his wife, if anyone gives a crap.

    This news comes as no surprise to sadsacks like me who have nothing better to do than follow the ins and outs, ups and downs, trials and, yes, tribulations of Ben Kingsley's 15-month marriage to one Alexandra Christmann. There have been rumors that he insisted all of their friends call him "Sir Ben" after he was knighted by the Queen for his contribution to The Dramatic Arts, and for SOME strange reason, his wife found this pretentious and annoying. What a harridan!

    Now comes word that his wife vented her marital frustrations by canoodling with a coarse (I'm assuming), non-knighted German real estate agent. WENN reports:

    "On Monday, the BZ tabloid printed a picture of Alexandra Christmann passionately locking lips with estate agent Sammy Brauner, the son of well-known German movie producer Atze Brauner.

    That night, a photographer for the publication spotted Christmann holding hands with Brauner at a party, where she told the snapper: 'I've split from Ben. Sammy is my new boyfriend now. We are a couple and we are really happy.'

    Gandhi actor Kingsley married Christmann in October 2003."

    What I find particularly sad about all this is the fact that no matter how many movies he makes, he shall forever be known as "Ghandi actor Kinglsey." Too bad for his love life it's not "Sexy Beast actor Kingsley."

    It could be worse, I suppose...such as "Howard the Duck actress Lea Thompson." Now THAT'S tragic.

    Wednesday, January 19, 2005

    Comments are go!

    You can even take a trip down memory lane, reliving Felt Up's snarky posts from the days of yore and comment on THEM, too! But please, compliments only. Your blogette is a delicate, sensitive southern belle who HAS ALWAYS DEPENDED ON THE KINDNESS OF STRANGERS!

    Now she shall retire to her swooning couch with a perfume-dipped hankie and some smellin' salts to wait for her publique to speak...
    Here's a fun lil' tidbit from British gossip-mongers Popbitch:

    "Faye of Light:
    Madonna tries to out-shine her wrinkles

    Madonna was among the stars at BBC television
    centre this week recording a song for
    the Tsunami Appeal show on US TV.

    A BBC technician tells us that Madonna is now
    using a 'Faye'. This is a bright light placed at
    eye level, in front of the performer, which
    helps to hide wrinkles. It gets its name in
    honour of Faye Dunaway, who always insists on one."

    Heh. Although, in all fairness, I should not cast the first stone, since I have a tendency to make all who gaze upon me rub vaseline onto their eyeballs for a "Barbara Walters Special" hazy halo effect. I also walk around with a piece of light gauze hanging over my face as a veil, wear cotton gloves over my crone's claws, and insist on indirect overhead lighting AT ALL TIMES. I am becoming a wampyre in my old age. A child of the night. I vill drink ze blooooooooood....

    40 is the new 30, by the way.

    Also, 37 is the new 28.

    And 35 is totally the new 26.

    50 is the age at which I "let myself go" (more) and start stuffing my face with bonbons, lying around all day on a feather pillow in a towel turban, and transport my bulk around Sam's Club in a Rascal scooter, filling my basket with elastic-waist pants and more turbans. Just, you know, FYI.
    Another day, another trashtacular Page Six! They are really on a roll over there. Today they had this surprisingly scintillating report about everyone's favorite Ice Queen/ Editrix-in-Chief/ Devil Who Wears Prada Anna Wintour:

    "In 'Front Row: The Cool Life and Hot Times of Vogue's Editor in Chief,' due next month from St. Martin's, Jerry Oppenheimer recounts how in the late '70s, Wintour's pal, Island Records founder Chris Blackwell, introduced the fashionista to Marley and got her a backstage pass to one of Marley's shows in New York. She immediately 'fell for' the pot-smoking musician.

    She was 'riveted' and acted as if she'd 'met God,' one friend tells Oppenheimer, who reports she 'virtually disappeared for a week' while notorious womanizer Marley was in town, spending all her time backstage.

    When Wintour finally resurfaced, she looked utterly worn out from her exertions with the rasta legend, but denied to friends she'd spent the week in Marley's bed. Pals didn't buy it and assumed she merely wanted to keep him to herself.

    A rep for Wintour, who did not cooperate with Oppenheimer and instructed pals not to talk, told PAGE SIX's Jared Paul Stern the editrix has 'no comment' on the book.

    Shortly after Marley, Wintour went to work for porn king Bob Guccione at Viva magazine, 'just across a divider from where Penthouse's shaved and pink gynecological-like shots were being laid out.' She later excised the job from her resume.

    Throughout her colorful career Wintour had affairs with many men, including British gossip columnist Nigel Dempster, who bedded her at a young age, and 'Monty Python' star Eric Idle. But she was always somewhat frosty, which Oppenheimer attributes to the fact that she had a 'pretty screwed up childhood,' growing up in a 'horribly depressed and icy atmosphere.'

    Her complicated relationship with her father, newspaperman Charles Wintour, left her with a lifelong taste for older men. In 1984, she married South African child psychologist David Shaffer; she was 34, he was 48. The first signs of trouble came when she was reported to have gotten the top job at Vogue via an affair with Si Newhouse.

    In 1999, Shaffer learned that Wintour was having an affair with Texas mogul Shelby Bryan when Bryan left a message on their answering machine. Shaffer called Bryan's wife and told her, 'Your husband and my wife are [bleeping] each other.' Bryan and Wintour, now 55, are still together."

    Gee, what a heartwarming rags-to-bitches story! Daddy didn't love her, so she slept her way to the top of the magazine heap! It brings a wee tear to your humble blogette's heart. A VERY wee tear.

    As to the salacious details: Bob Marley--HELL, yeah. And how much do I love that even her "friends" thought Ms. Thang wanted to keep him for herself? Isn't that what real friends do, share their Rastafarian reggae superstar boyfriends? Although you'd think that even Anna Wintour would want to talk on the phone with her pals about her sexcapades. Her thin, bony, scrawny, bob-haired sexcapades.

    I don't know South African child pyscholgist David Shaffer, so I have no opinion as to his shagability. But, um, Eric Idle? Funny, but not too cute. Probabaly sings "Rutles" songs in his sleep. And Si Newhouse, I bet, is quite old and probably doesn't look a whole lot like Javier Bardem, so I'd have to pass. Which is why I write a free blog and am not the editor of "Vogue." Yep, that's the only reason I can think of...

    Tuesday, January 18, 2005

    Page Six was a veritable smorgasbord of delectable gossipy treats today, hurrah!

    First up, there's a list of some Golden Globes' off-camera shennanigans:

    " * Tobey Maguire was supposed to introduce the clip of 'The Aviator' at the Golden Globes but he dropped out at the last minute, supposedly because he's overweight and his handlers want to keep him out of sight until he loses the lard...

    * Star Jones Reynolds and Melissa and Joan Rivers ignored each other on the red carpet as they broadcast for rival channels. The air was icy, witnesses said. But Star and Joan later posed together for photos where Joan was 'mock bitch-slapping Star.'...

    * Mischa Barton and Brandon Davis had a lovers' quarrel at the InStyle/Warner Bros. party, which ended when "Mischa slapped Brandon," a partygoer said. The temperamental twosome made up and left together shortly thereafter.

    * Nicky Hilton and 'Entourage' star Kevin Connolly also looked 'miserable,' our spies say. Hilton was upset after a run-in with Shannen Doherty in the bathroom at the Glamour/Miramax party at Trader Vic's. The two hate each other ever since Nicky's sister Paris — mysteriously absent from the evening — did a sex tape with Doherty's ex, Rick Salomon. 'Shannen won the staredown and Nicky backed off,' a spy laughed.

    * Quentin Tarantino stepped out on girlfriend Sofia Coppola. The quirky, foot-obsessed director hit the Glamour party with a male pal and was 'approached at the end of the night by a pretty girl who said she admired his work,' our spy reports. Tarantino 'snuggled' with the unidentified woman in a booth for the rest of the night.

    * Usher arrived at all the parties — Glamour/Miramax, InStyle/Warner Bros., Fox Searchlight, Universal and HBO — with a 'huge entourage and cut all the lines — it was really annoying,' said a witness. Usher tried to hit on Halle Berry at the InStyle party while James King was seen 'working' actor-turned-director Zach Braff at the HBO bash."

    OK. One at a time: Is there anything better than learning a celebrity is too fat to present an award? Answer: NO. THERE IS NOTHING BETTER.

    And here's an interesting existential question: In a real, non-staged bitch slap contest, who would win: Joan Rivers or Star Jones? Sure, Star has the size advantage and was the ultimate "Bridezilla," plus she's an ass who said that "God blessed her" for sparing her life in the tsunami because she visited the area a month before the disaster, but Joan is an old pro at the bitch game who drove her husband to suicide...this may be one of those questions best left to the philosophers...or at least a Felt Up Mini Poll.

    Speaking of bitch slaps, James St. James should be skipping in his high heels through the streets of Hollywood at the news that his beloved boy toy Brandon Davis was slapped by talentless too-thin-even-for-L.A. non-actress Mischa Barton. Here's your chance, James---grab that oily bull by the horns!

    But why-oh-why did Nicky Hilton and Shannen Doherty only engage in a "staredown"? Why couldn't they have engaged in a full-blown hissy-fit catfight in the bathroom? WHY? What about MY needs? I could've told Nicky not to bother with the staredown, though. No way in hell is Shannen Doherty going to lose one of those--and Nicky, everyone knows you have to have a SOUL in order to stare someone down! Shannen's soul may be utterly black, and very, very small, and quite evil, but it is in there somewhere. Nicky and Paris quite obviously sold theirs a long, long time ago...if they even had 'em to begin with. Which I doubt very much.

    The Tarantino thing is not that interesting in and of itself, but I love anything that might cause Little Miss Perfect Sofia Coppola a little discomfort in her life. It's nothing personal. I know she's talented, went through a divorce, comes from the First Family of American Film, blah blah blah. I just don't like her. Not one bit. There's something so fake about her anorexic-little-girl-lost-in-a-Marc-Jacobs-loose-fitting-retro-dress-that-she-didn't-have-to-pay-for thing she works all the time. Bleh. And I'm sorry. I liked Bill Murray in "Lost in Translation"--I'm not MADE OF STONE, after all--but I think that movie was pretty overrated. There was far too much Scarlett "Letter" Johanssen staring out of windows while dreamy pretentious pop played in the background, and not nearly enough Bill Murray-interacting-with-the-Japanese. Althouh, having said all that, I admit that I AM intrigued by the Coppola Vinyards' Sofia sparkling-white-wine-in-a-can that comes in a cute little pink four-pack. But I digress...

    Just what in holy hell was Usher even DOING at the Golden Globes? Can ANYONE answer me that? Huh?

    Now onto my favorite gossip standby, the "blind item." Page six has a real juicy one today:

    "JUST ASKING

    Which big-name Hollywood actor has fallen back into his druggie ways? The matinee idol, whose career has taken a nose dive, is consoling himself with controlled substances. His hot new gal pal shares his narcotic interests?"

    Now, I am just a humble blogette, but it seems pretty likely that this coy question could only have one answer: Ben Affleck and Jennifer Garner. Am I wrong? Who else COULD it be? Although I had only ever heard that Ben was a drunkard, not a druggie, but whatever. I still think that's who it is. And it would explain Jennifer's "muscle aches" or "exhaustion" or whatever it was she was hospitalized for recently...

    And, finally, this last item is a little creepy, so if you're eating lunch, you might want to put down your sandwich and thank the Lord Almighty that you're not eating Chinese:

    "Muscle-band lady wrestler Chyna Doll is making a meal out of supermodel Marcus 'The Swedish Meatball' Schenkenberg.

    The B-list duo, who met while filming VH1's 'The Surreal Life' were seen locking lips at Scores West in the wee hours of Saturday morning.

    'They were kissing and caressing each other,' shudders our spy. Even more unsettling was when hulking Chyna jumped onstage and performed a nude striptease.

    'She asked to go onstage and the manager said, "No thank you," ' relates our spy. 'But eventually he let her, in the spirit of good fun. She was topless, but after she went bottomless, they told her she had to stop.'

    Schenkenberg, who has romanced several of the topless temple's lovely dancers, left with his new squeeze shortly after 4 a.m.

    'It's like "Beauty and the Beast," ' sniffed one of Schenkenberg's stripper conquests, who was aghast at the hookup.

    Earlier that night, Chyna got buck-naked and jumped into the fish tank at Coral Room as Schenkenberg filmed her with a video phone.

    Let's hope the male supermodel doesn't upset his bulging-biceped belle — Chyna was arrested recently for beating up her ex-boyfriend, Sean Waltman."

    Is there even the remotest chance in hell that this "romance" is anything but a cheap, tawdry, desperate attempt to get their own spin-off reality show, a la "Strange Love" with Brigitte Neilssen and Flava Flav? Do I give a rat's ass? The anwswer: NO. I think it's in poor taste, however, that Page Six makes such disparaging comments about the Wrestler Formerly Known As Chynna's appearance. Accurate, yes. In good taste, no. She is still a lady! A freakish, talentless, muscle-bound, plastic-surgery-nightmare lady. But a lady just the same! When did she change her name to "Chyna Doll," anyway? Ah, well. A rose by any other name, etc., etc...

    Despite, or perhaps because of, that lapse in taste, I say: Thanks Page Six! Well-played, sirs. Well-played. Kudos!

    Thursday, January 13, 2005

    Well, I was going to NOT discuss the Prince Harry Nazi costume debacle because I always thought Harry was kinda cute, in an overgrown puppy dog sort of way, and also because I thought it would fade away pretty quickly as a news item, but boy, WAS I EVER WRONG.

    For those of you who do not know what in tarnation I'm talking about, here's the deal: Prince Harry, "the spare," or younger son of Prince Charles and the late Princess Diana, took leave of his senses--especially his sense of decency--and wore a Nazi uniform--complete with red swastika armband--to a costume party. His brother was there, by the way, and wore a lion costume. Seems kind of sweet, in comparison. Anyway, the idiot was dumb enough to let his picture get taken, and it ended up on the front page of British tabloid The Sun:

    Image Hosted by ImageShack.us

    Outrage ensued, and Prince Harry issued a rather lame-ass apology. Now CNN is reporting that the Duchess of York has gone on tv and stated that Harry "deserves a break." Oh, Fergie. SHUT UP!

    Here's more:

    "'The thing is that sometimes we all do things where the ramifications of our actions are perhaps afterthoughts,' the duchess -- Sarah Ferguson -- said on 'American Morning.'

    'It's all very well to come down hard on him, but he's been through a lot, and I fully support him 100 percent.

    'I hope the world accepts his apology,' she said. 'He deserves a break, really.'

    ...Not everyone was as forgiving. Former Buckingham Palace press officer Dickie Arbiter told CNN Harry's choice of costume would be 'very much an embarrassment to his father.'

    'He should have realized that wearing Nazi uniform as member of royal family is just not a starter,' said Arbiter, who also said a written apology was 'not enough' and Harry should 'come up front.'

    'He needs a good dose of army discipline given by people he doesn't know ... and perhaps then grow up.'

    Rabbi Marvin Hier of the Simon Wiesenthal Center in Los Angeles said it was 'inexcusable for a member of the royal family to do that' and called Harry's action 'a disgrace to England.'

    ...Robert Rozett, director of the library at Jerusalem's Holocaust Museum, appeared more disappointed than angry about the royal flap and said he was happy Harry had quickly apologized.

    'Of course, the Holocaust is representative of man's greatest evil and collapse of morality in human civilization,' Rozett told CNN, 'so when Prince Harry wears it ... it indicates the lessons of the Holocaust have not entered into his understanding or consciousness.'

    ...Some on the streets of London, though, agreed with Harry's aunt.

    'I like the lad, and I think people tend to batten down on to him. It's not fair really,' one woman said.

    'I think if I was Jewish, I might feel a bit upset about the fact, but all the same, people need to take in the context it's in, and he obviously didn't mean anything by it.'

    The Nazis murdered 6 million Jews and millions of others including Poles, homosexuals, Soviet prisoners and Gypsies. Millions more were imprisoned or forced to work as slaves.

    Harry's grandmother, Queen Elizabeth II, is commemorating the 60th anniversary that day by inviting Nazi death camp survivors and British veterans who freed them to a reception at St. James's Palace..."

    Oh, those wacky Brits. First, the very name "Dickie Arbiter" could ONLY happen in jolly olde England. And by jove! I think it's simply PIPPING that they still say things like "it's just not a starter" and "lad"--I say, it IS rather charming, don't you think, wot wot?

    Yes, apparently the thinking goes something like this: "The dear boy was simply acting rather foolishly, especially by forgetting all that silly nonsense about the royal family's quite deep ties to the Nazis--I say, doesn't their real last name sound a bit Teutonic? Hmmm. Yes. Quite. Uh...where was I? Oh, yes! But he's really a good lad, you see, and he seems rather jolly most of the time, which is--dare I say--quite amusing. And really, if you are not, in fact, Jewish, then why make such a fuss? Why take offense?"

    Why, indeed!
    Those lucky few who personally know your humble Felt Up blogette (you know who you are--all three of you regular readers!) know that she is extremely sensitive and hates the humor of discomfort: she had to fast-forward through most of "The Office" DVD, cringes at the very existence of Larry David and "Curb Your Enthusisasm," and shudders whenever the "George-burns-down-John-Cheever's-cabin episode of "Seinfield" is aired. It's not that she can't appreciate how incredibly funny these things are--it's just that she has to leave the room whenever they come on tv. Right up there in this Pantheon of Pain is "Da Ali G. Show," which proves chuckles, guffaws, and--most often--MORTAL DREAD in your blogette. So it is with an odd mixture of admiration and horror that she brings you this report from Page Six:


    "ALI G'S BLOOD-CURDLING ANTHEM"

    "TV prankster Ali G, a k a Sasha Baron Cohen, is at it again.

    Posing as one of his hilarious aliases, Kazakhstan journalist "Borat," the British comic nearly incited a riot while singing the national anthem at a rodeo in Salem, Va., the other day.

    Cohen-as-Borat claimed he was filming a documentary and convinced organizers to let him sing the "Star-Spangled Banner" to show his appreciation for the U.S.A.

    Speaking in broken English, Cohen told the crowd he supported the war on terrorism.

    'I hope you kill every man, woman and child in Iraq, down to the lizards," Cohen declared. 'And may George W. Bush drink the blood of every man, woman and child in Iraq.'

    After warbling what he said was his own native national anthem, Cohen proceeded to sing a butchered version of the 'Star-Spangled Banner,' ending with the words, 'your home in the grave.'

    By then, he was drowned out by boos and getting flipped off by the crowd.

    'If he had been out there a minute longer, I think somebody would have shot him,' attendee Robynn Jaymes told the Roanoke Times.

    Rodeo producers, who suddenly realized they had been hoaxed, escorted Cohen from the building."

    Genius. Completely awesome, brave--and TOTALLY BLOOD-CURDLING! It is MUCH better to read about Borat's shenanigans than to actually see them on HBO, because your humble blogette would require: a) smelling salts, and b) a swooning couch. Sure is funny, though. "Down to the lizards" is SURE to sweep the nation as a new catch-phrase!

    Wednesday, January 12, 2005

    Do the talents of your humble Felt Up blogette have no end? Frankly, yes. But at least now she can add PUBLISHED (ON THE INTERNET) SONGSTRESS to her resume!

    Here's the scoop (I'm going to change out of third person, it's too exhausting): One of my favorite sites, World of Wonder, features the writing talents of James St. James, eternally youthful and fabulous former clubkid extraordinaire and all-around celebutante, who posts delightful blog entries about his life, his loves, his conversations with "Party Monster" convicted felon Michael Alig, his yearning for Botox, etc. Recently James has become infatuated with one Brandon Davis, oily-haired oil-heir and Mischa "Fugly" Barton's boytoy. James posted a lyric today that he'd written for an unfinished anthem/ode to Brandon:

    "Brandon
    I want to put my hand in
    Your pants"

    Then Mr. St. James requested help finishing the lyrics...To see the fruits of our collaboration, waste not time and hurry over:

  • HERE!


  • I SAID HURRY!
    A secret source--OK, OK a mass e-mail sent out by UK gosipeers Popbitch--claims that Ben Affleck is perhaps not so much ON the wagon as he is passed out beneath it:

    "Ben Affleck is shooting a new movie in
    Vancouver called 'Man About Town.' An on-set
    source claims that Ben is back to his hard-
    partying ways, keeps falling asleep between
    takes and has to be fed his lines one sentence
    at a time to aid his memory. During the week
    that co-star John Cleese was shooting his
    scenes, he was kept waiting for a almost two
    days for Ben to show up."

    Isn't the love of serial co-star-canoodler Jennifer Garner enough to keep El Affleck off the sauce? The answer, apparently: NO. Say what you will about J. Lo, but she was at least able to get her mans to replace booze with a much less destructive high-stakes gambling addiction. Stay tuned for more unverifiable details as they emerge from the shadows of Tinseltown into the unforgiving glare of my in-box. That sounds kinda dirty, somehow...
    CNN's website has an interesting report on the Great Tabloid Brad/Jen Breakup Feeding Frenzy of 2005. Apparently, the real news is fascinated that non-news providers had to work overtime to get their in-depth analysis of intense idle speculation and unfounded rumor-mongering to The People:

    "In the world of celebrities and those who love them, the Jennifer Aniston-Brad Pitt breakup was like the fall of the Berlin Wall.

    That sent celebrity magazines hurtling into a race to be first in the biggest breakup story of, well, the year.

    'It's the biggest story since Jennifer Lopez and Ben Affleck broke up,' Us Weekly Editor in Chief Janice Min said Tuesday.

    Us Weekly, which typically closes its issue by midnight Monday, went into overdrive after Friday's announcement, which stated 'our separation is not the result of any of the speculation reported by the tabloid media.'

    Min said her staff 'came in all weekend' and moved up production by 24 hours.

    The situation was similar at People, which usually doesn't close its edition until Tuesday.

    'We launched all boats to figure out what went wrong,' said People Deputy Managing Editor Larry Hackett. 'It's a mix of a number of things: issues about when to start a family, how she was feeling about her husband ... I think, like most adults, it wasn't one thing or another.'

    Both magazines hit newsstands Tuesday. Using cultivated sources, the glossies crafted multidimensional stories exploring details about the breakup including Aniston and Pitt's recent Caribbean vacation itinerary, their family values and their division of assets.

    The official separation announcement from Aniston and Pitt's publicist was first reported by People's Web site and later picked up by other news organizations and local tabloids, such as the New York Post and New York Daily News.

    But unlike news organizations that have prepared obituaries for when somebody dies, Min said, 'We don't have relationship obituaries ready to go.'

    Us devoted 31 pages to Aniston and Pitt; People 12. Both magazines had sidebars titled 'The Angelina Factor,' citing rumors that Pitt may have had an extramarital affair with "Mr. and Mrs. Smith" co-star Angelina Jolie.

    Said People's Hackett: 'We treat this stuff as if we're reporting on arms negotiation treaties or sports or politics. That's the way we tell a story.'

    Not every celebrity-driven magazine jumped on the Brad-and-Jen quick-to-print breakup bandwagon. Tabloid-turned-glossy Star magazine's current issue proclaims, "Brad and Jen Back On! IT'S BABY TIME."

    The magazines have been filled with stories featuring Angelina Jolie -- here with Pitt in the upcoming "Mr. and Mrs. Smith" -- as the "other woman."

    Bonnie Fuller, editorial director of Star parent company American Media, said her company decided to spend their energy on more reporting instead of going to press early. But she insists Star was the first to report on the shattered relationship last month in the December 13 'MARRIAGE CRISIS!' cover story and the December 20 follow-up 'Brad & Jen's SEPARATE LIVES!'

    'What we believe happened is that they took this vacation, encouraged by their close friends Courteney Cox and David Arquette, to try and really put it back together, to try for the miracle reconciliation,' Fuller said. 'Then something happened. We believe they had a final fight and realized they were too far apart.'

    Fuller revealed Star's next chapter in the breakup saga is a cover story titled 'Brad & Angelina: THE REAL TRUTH.'"

    Ahh, good ole Evil Editrix Bonnie Fuller. I LOVE how she defends Star's "IT'S BABY TIME!" cover by saying her staff was busy too busy "reporting" on the state of the Pitts' marriage to notice that they had broken up. That is CHUTZPAH, lady, CHUTZPAH!

    I also like the analogies that compare the dissolution of a Hollywood marriage to that of "arms negotations treaties," the collapse of the Berlin Wall, obituaries, and "sports." AWESOME.

    I would almost feel sorry for all these hard-working reporters--after all, your humble Felt Up blogette didn't have to do much extra work except make a post on the weekend--but then I remember: I DON'T GET PAID AND THEY DO.


    FROM THE AP:

    "Thousands of tsunami victims have raised their voices in praise of Madonna, after she generously donated 10,000 bottles of kabbalah water to their cause.

    'Methinks by far the best way one doth help the needy is nae merely by quenching their thirst for potable liquids, but also by quenching their thirst for Jewish mysticism,' the artist formerly known as 'The Material Girl' stated in an almost indecipherable faux British accent from her London manse.

    The victims also received 10,000 DVDs of "Swept Away." Whether they wanted them or not. Mainly not.

    One Sri Lankan survivor explained, 'It already stinks enough around here. Also, we felt the title was wildly inappropriate.'"

    Tuesday, January 11, 2005

    Wow, this is VERY exciting: I am about to break a non-news story BEORE anyone else! A reliable source has informed your humble Felt Up blogette that Amy, who was a finalist in the first, superior season of "The Apprentice" has recently partaken in a shotgun wedding! Yes, my tipster says that when Amy got hitched, she had a bun in the oven! I have never actually watched "The Apprentice," but I believe it is quite popluar with the youngsters....

    It's this kind of groundbreaking, cutting-edge journalism that is sure to make my 3 loyal readers happy and content! Hurrah! Yay for tipsters! And special kudos are in order for Amy for having a brain for business and a bod for sin, just like Melanie Griffith in "Working Girl"!!!


    Monday, January 10, 2005

    Those poor bastards at Star Magazine. The cover this week screams: "Brad & Jen Back On! IT'S BABY TIME!" If it wasn't so sad to see how far the mighty have fallen, I would laugh. Maybe even guffaw...Alas, they took a 50/50 gamble (They Will Break Up/ They Will Not Break Up) and LOST BIG TIME. They have "exclusive" photos of the lovebirds on a "romantic vacation" at a "secret getaway," and the accompanying article is titled "Brad & Jen In Love and MAKING TIME--To Make a Baby!" An eyewitness to the "happy couple's" frolicking and canoodling reported that "Brad and Jen couldn't get enough of each other. They looked and acted so much in love." HA! HA, HA and DOUBLE HA! That's because they are ACTORS. Not terribly good ones, but actors just the same! And just HOW romantic could it POSSIBLY have been when they brought along creepy couple Courteney Cox and David Arquette? This was CLEARLY a sad last hurrah before they called in the lawyers. David Arguette's presence alone was obviously the death knell for Brad & Jen. As Erma Bombeck might have said, if life is a bowl of cherries, why is David Arquette vacationing with the Pitts?

    Speculation has been rampant all over the Internets about the cause of the breakup. WENN reports that temptress to the stars Angelina Jolie is involved SOMEhow:

    "The reason behind Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston's separation remains unclear, with at least three different theories for the split being put forward - two of which involve Angelina Jolie...

    The most common reason being given for the split is that the couple argued over whether or not to have children. Pitt, 41, is reportedly keen to become a father while former Friends star Aniston is said to want to concentrate on her movie career.

    Another theory is that Aniston, 34, heard Pitt and his Mr. & Mrs. Smith co-star Jolie engaging in 'phone sex'.

    A source tells British newspaper the News Of The World, '(Brad and Angelina) would speak on the phone all the time - always speaking in hushed tones. There was no hiding their affection for each other. Jennifer listened in on the conversation via another extension. I don't know if she accidentally picked up the phone or deliberately did that. Either way, she went ballistic.'

    And, in a further explanation involving sexy Tomb Raider star Jolie, UK tabloid the Daily Star Sunday writes that the marriage finally collapsed because Pitt adores playing father to Jolie's adopted son, Maddox. An insider tells the publication, 'Jen became furious when he pointed out that, at 29, Angelina is six years younger than her and is managing to combine motherhood and a successful career.'"

    Hmmm. Personally, your humble Felt Up blogette feels that no man (including her baby brother) can resist the sexsational charms of Ms. Angelina Jolie, and if they can, they are gay. Plain lil' Jennifer "The Chin" Aniston is simply no match for the beautiful sucubus that is Angelina. She was probably sent here by the devil to lead good men to their damnation. And to adopt adorable tykes and make their lives better. And be a UN goodwill ambassador and whatnot. BUT MAINLY to tempt men and leave a path of wanton destruction and ruin in her wake. WHO WILL SHE DESTROY NEXT? AND WILL SHE ADOPT/BUY A RUSSIAN BABY? Stay tuned!

    Friday, January 07, 2005

    BREAKING NON-NEWS ALERT: Brad and Jen Are Splitsville For Reals--OMG, Ya'll!

    Hurrah! The tabloids were RIGHT! It's a beautiful confirmation of everything that I hold dear to my heart!

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    Ahh, yes. The holy, sacred marriage bond shall last 'till death do them part...

    CNN is reporting that "after more than four years of marriage, Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston have decided to formally separate, according to the office of Aniston's publicist, Stephen Huvane.

    People magazine, which first reported the split, quoted the couple as saying that 'this decision is the result of much thoughtful consideration,' and is not 'the result of any of the speculation reported by the tabloid media.'

    'We happily remain committed and caring friends with great love and admiration for one another,' they said in their statement to People, which is owned by Time Warner, the parent company of CNN.com.

    Their statement made no mention of a divorce."

    Yah, and it made no mention of Brad's canoodling with Angelina Jolie or Jen's being the only woman on earth besides your humble Felt Up blogette and most (though certainly not ALL) lesbians who does not want to carry the fruit of Brad Pitt's loins in her belly. MORE SALACIOUS DETAILS HOPEFULLY FORTHCOMING!!!

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    Is everyone who ordered the Pitt/Anniston Eternity Band going to want a refund? WE SHALL SEE!
    Here's a fun headline from Page Six:


    "POP STAR DODGES A MATTRESS"

    Although I have to take issue with the over-zealous use of the description "pop star," since it refers to one Aaron Carter. As I am not a 'tween, he is not known as any kind of star chez Felt Up, let me tell you. (I KNEW Roger Taylor, Roger Taylor was an idol of mine, and you, sir, ARE NO ROGER TAYLOR.) If he's known for ANYTHING, besides being the cause of the Great Lohan/Duff Feud of The Early Millenium, it's for being Nick "Paris Beater" Carter's younger, gayer-looking brother.

    "Aaron Carter dodged a flying mattress early yesterday morning — causing the teen singer to issue a press release saying he had a "near fatal car crash" in Pompano Beach.

    Carter and his unidentified 'girlfriend' [my quotes] were driving on the Florida Turnpike when the bed flew off a truck in front of him.

    According to the release, Carter was 'unable to avoid the object, [so] Aaron drove his Cadillac Escalade over the mattress, which caused the underneath of his car to ignite.'

    Flames 'engulfed' the car, but Carter and his 'date' [my quotes] escaped with just bruises.

    Carter, who is still feuding with his mother and has yet to call her about the accident, mysteriously issued this statement: 'I am so lucky to be alive right now. I can't believe I survived another near-death experience — I feel like I am a cat and I only have five lives left! . . . Also, the support of my father, lawyer and friends are really helping me to stay positive.' He did not elaborate on his other 'near-death' experiences."

    What in the name of Allah is he babbling about? Is he mentally challenged? Did the accident give him a concussion? Do I care? No, but oooh, I do love a freaky family! Here's Aaron's dear, sweet mommie's mug shot, after being arrested for aggravated assault.

    I also love a MYSTERY. What could lil' Aaron be referring to when hs speaks of having only five lives left? What are these vaguely sinister-sounding allusions to "another near-death experience?" Did his mom attack him with a broken bottle of Jim Beam one bright Christmas morn? Did Nick have a slightly-gay-seeming brotherly hissy-fit on his ass? Did Hillary Duff try to have him "terminated with extreme prejudice?" Did his dad force him and Nick have a gruelling "sing off" that turned violent when Nick started to lose the respect of his father after he cried like a little girl, begging, "please don't make me sing no more ballads, daddy, PLEASE"? WHAT IS UP WITH THIS FAMILY? When a son thanks his lawyer for helping him to "stay positive," you know we can expect GREAT THINGS for 2005 from these yahoos. Yay Florida! You produce so many trashy backwoods weirdos, and we love you for it...STAY TUNED.

    Thursday, January 06, 2005

    I'm sure by now this is, like, such old news, ya'll, but I can't help but gleefully--nay, perhaps even giddily--passing on the fact that Ashlee Simspon was BOOED at her terrible live, non-lip-synching performance at the Orange Bowl. YIPPEE!! The words being bandied about to describe her singing run the gamut from "flat" to "screeching."

    WENN reports that Ashlee "was left red-faced again during an awful live show Tuesday night.

    Amid technical problems that saw fellow half-time show performers Kelly Clarkson and Trace Adkins struggle to hear themselves, Ashlee howled her way through hit single 'La La,' hitting bad note after bad note.

    And fans of Orange Bowl finalists University Of Southern California and Oklahoma weren't shy about voicing their disapproval - and booed her loudly. The censors also clamped down on the singer, insisting she remove a sexually-charged "French maid" line in the song and replace it with 'lemonade'."

    Hold the phone. She has a song about a French maid? Huh? Whaaa? I am OUTRAGED that my God-given right to hear Ashlee Simpson sing "sexually-charged" material was taken away from me by a totalitarian regime. And by the fact that I did not, actually, watch or listen to the Orange Bowl in any way, shape or form. If I had known that Ashlee Simpson was going to disgrace herself AGAIN in a live setting and humiliate herself in front of millions of people, I would have been at the local sports tavern, screamin' and whoopin' it up, drinking Jaegie shots and dumping bowls of popcorn on fellow sports' enthusiasts heads. Then the half-time show would've ended and I would've gone home.

    In other non-news, Page Six is reporting that--gasp!-- Britney Spears' perfume "Eau de Red Bull" has roundly trounced the one put out by Paris Hilton, "Skank." Apparently the unwashed masses would much rather smell like Ms. Spears, and I can't say that I blame them. I mean, I am an unwashed mass and if given a choice between smelling like Barefoot in the Bathroom Brit or smelling like Paris the Crack Whore's Used Up Ole Coochie, I think I would opt for Essence de Federline. But that's just me.

    Wednesday, January 05, 2005

    Jude Law has taken leave of his senses and proposed marriage to his obviously nutty stalker/girlfriend Sienna Miller. Since his first marriage to obviously nutty stalker/ex-wife Sadie Frost went so well, why NOT give holy, sacred matrimony another go-around, eh? Sienna Miller is so much younger than him that she was a FAN of his with pictures of him ON HER WALL when she was growing up, and now she is marrying him. It is every silly girl's dream come true! At hearing the news, millions of not-very-beautiful, normal women everywhere are weeping now that the prospect of Jude Law coming into their lives SOMEHOW and sweeping them off their chubby feet has become just that much dimmer. Yeah, right. Get real, ladies! As if! Although he is not to your humble Felt Up blogette's taste (too pretty!), she does feel your pain. When Clive Owen or Javier Bardem settles down, there will be a veil of tears at Felt Up, let me tell you. Because, you know, it IS possible that one of them might show up in line at the grocery store, and our eyes would meet over my groceries (bottle of shiraz, Lean Cuisine and InTouch magazine) and somehow my lank, unwashed hair, elastic-waist pants, and matronly upper arms would charm them, and magic would ensue...it could TOTALLY happen! But I digress.

    In other non-news, Ms. Britney Spears has decided that her true talents do not lie in being a trashy pop tartlet, Cheeto/Red Bull consumer, and wife of a dancing yokel, but rather in LE FILM, specifically as an AUTEUR. Check out this rather chilling headline from WENN:

    "Spears Turns To Directing"

    BRACE YOURSELF, PEOPLE:

    "Britney Spears has ventured behind the camera to co-direct her first pop video - in preparation for her assault on Hollywood.

    The "Toxic" beauty put her directorial skills into practice when she helped create the promo for her tune "Do Something" in New York last month. And Spears hopes the video will show studio heads she has the talent to score success as a movie-maker - especially since she's already devoting much of her spare time to writing scripts for big screen musicals.

    She says, 'I made a cute video for 'Do Something.' We shot the entire thing in a record-breaking five hours. I even came up with all the choreography and styled the entire shoot myself. I've been working on writing and hopefully directing a musical that makes fun of Hollywood.'"

    WOW. I am too stunned to have a pithy remark at the ready. Let me take a moment to compose myself...

    ....OK, I'm back. Uh, I hate to keep harping on the Portents of Armageddon, but isn't "Britney Spears Writes and Directs a Musical That Makes Fun of Hollywood" right there in the Book of Revelations, just before the Lake of Fire Shall Engulf the Earth? How many more signs do we need before we realize that the End of Man is Upon Us? HOW MANY?

    I am totally turning into one of those people who walk up and down the sidewalk with a sandwich board that says "THE END IS NIGH," aren't I? Maybe I AM crazy--crazy like a FOX that is. We shall see. WE SHALL SEE!

    Tuesday, January 04, 2005

    First of all, my sincerest apologies for the scarcity of posts these past couple of weeks, but 1) I have been cruelly cursed with terrible hangovers for no apparent reason--surely not from drinking those wee bottles of champers and then swigging Jameson's from a plastic cup until I wake-up with my face pressed against the cool, sweet tile of my bathroom floor day-in and day-out since Thanksgiving? and 2) more pressingly, I've had a very bad case of the DSL bug, and the good people at SBC India have not been able to figure it out yet. I hear they have other problems over there, but what could be more important than a gossip blog? Harrumph. So please bear with your humble Felt Up blogette as she attempts to sober up and get back on the Internets full-time, where she belongs....

    Now, for some old business: the poll results are in! The person or event who is the biggest harbinger of the coming Armageddon is Paris Hilton with 27%! Not too surprising, really, since it is totally and completely TRUE. She is the portent of doom, the bringer of the Rain of Frogs, the Seventh Sign. DUH. We had a three-way tie for second place: Joan and Melissa Rivers' return to the red carpet, Pink's movie of her innermost thoughts and feelings, "The Diary of Pink," and the launch of Lindsay Lohan's musical "career" all brought in 18% of the vote for a likely anti-Christ situation. There was another three-way tie for third place: the birth of Julia Roberts' twins, Damien and Damienele, the existence of Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen (they scare me! so tiny!), and Dick Clark's stroke (he must live forever! he MUST! AAAAAH!). Fourth place was the advent of "The Real Gilligan's Island," and dead last with no votes whatsoever was Nipplegate (the "-gate" not the nipple itself). I kind of liked that last one, since the incredible hoo-ha over the semi-baring of a woman's God-given body part seemed terribly out of proportion. However, it may have merely indicated the Puritanical, backwards, rube-like quality of much of these United States, rather than any kind of global biblical-type destruction. Or maybe not. We shall see. Did anyone notice if any leviathans washed ashore in Indonesia? I'm just sayin'...

    OK. Time for the first new poll of the year! This time the question is: What celebrity event would you most like to see happen in 2005? As always the poll is down yonder in the bottom left. Get to it!

    Also, a little gossip tidbit for all you Star Wars fans out there: Kenny Baker, who played R2D2 and is a close, close personal friend of Terri R., was arrested recently in England for drunk driving in what I can only assume is a specially-rigged Mercedes. He refused to give a breath test because of his asthma, and is now awaiting the results of a blood test, which he swears up and down will show he only had one glass of wine. Which begs the question: How much wine does R2D2 have to drink to be legally drunk? As Yoda would say, "Drink little he may. But tiny person is he, and careful he was not. Afraid he is not. But he will be. HE WILL BE." Or something like that. My Yoda-speak always ends up sounding more like a Jewish grandma.