Sunday, June 26, 2005

Working Girls

Now this is what I'm talking about! In these times of publicist/Scientoloist-controlled spin-mania, when every celeb is led by hand through public events like lost children at the town fair, with a receiver in their ear telling them what pablum they need to spout to the masses about their Vera Wang gowns, it is downright refreshing to hear of a bona-fide nutty nutball whose last name is not Cruise pulling an Anne Heche or a Margot Kidder! And not too surprisingly, the dazed-n-confused thespian in question is none other than Melanie Griffith! Yay, Melanie!

Page Six reports with glee that:
Spacey Melanie Griffith has been in Toronto for the past six weeks, but the other day she was wandering around in a daze like a homeless person trying to find her hotel.

Canada's National Post reports Griffith asked a passerby, "Can you tell me how to get to the Windsor Arms?"

The stranger repeated the simple directions several times. Griffith finally made it over to Bloor Street, where the hotel is located, but turned the wrong way.

By then a small herd of curiosity-seekers were following in her wake, and one was kind enough to call the Windsor Arms.

The hotel quickly dispatched someone to lead the actress home, the paper reports.

Griffith, who's set to star in a new WB show called "Twins" this fall, is in Toronto while husband Antonio Banderas is filming the musical drama "Take the Lead."

"Melanie asked someone for directions to her hotel as she is unfamiliar with the area," her rep told PAGE SIX. "She got back to the hotel on her own - no one had to come pick her up."

Oh, whatever, we all know that Melanie Griffith is one taco short of a combination plate, and we love her all the more for it! Yippee for wandering around like a confused homeless person, Melanie! Yippee, I say, yippee!

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"Oh, thank God. I found it...I fooooooooooooooooooound the hotel! I. Was. Getting. So. Very. Tired. Wheeeeeeee! I'm Mrs. Antonio Banderas! I think. Or am I? Hello? Where am I? How'd I get here? Who are all these people? Oh, I don't know and I don't care. Wheeeeeeeeeeee!"

There was also an item today about the futher downward shame spiral of one of our nation's formerly squeaky-clean youths. Page Six asks the burning question on a nation's lips:
Did Mary-Kate Olsen have a little too much fun partying with Brit poppers Oasis after their Garden gig the other night?

"When she came out of Oasis' dressing room, she almost crashed into me," our spy reports. "Her big bodyguard had her by the arms ... She was in rough shape."

The bite-sized billionaire, clad in a KISS shirt, denim skirt and cowboy boots, was half-carried into the service elevator and off to the VIP bathroom.

"Whatever the implication is, it's ridiculous," Olsen's rep assures us. "She was just hanging out with the band. Nothing went on whatsoever."

These p.r. hacks are getting on my nerves. "Nothing went on whatsoever" while Mary-Kate Olsen partied with Oasis in their dressing room? Would Ms. Olsen's representative also have us believe that the moon is made of green cheese? That the Earth is flat? Perhaps she has a bridge she can sell us! Let's just say it strains credulity.

Even though Oasis are currently sliding down a very slippery slope towards the "Where Are They Now?" File (or an episode of "Hit Me Baby One More Time"), I'm pretty sure they have not bid a fond adieu to their drunken, debauched, sex-drugs-n-Brit-pop way of life just yet. Nor are they adverse to taking a bedraggled anorexic waif down with them for the ride and sullying her a bit on the way. And thank God for that! Huzzah!

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