Friday, June 30, 2006

Star Jones: By Any Means Necessary

I don't care if you're all sick to death of Star Jones Reynolds! I can't get enough of her downfall! Too bad! Stop judging me! You're not my father!

Last night's appearance on "Larry King Live" was kind of a snoozefest, since Star decided to Take The High Road and not dis Barbara Walters (except to say that she was "hurt" by B.W.'s announcement of Star's "betrayal" on "The View"). Yawn! Star Jones, don't you know that we, the American tv-watching public, demanded nothing less than either a teary breakdown crying jag or a verbal asswhup of Baba Wawa, complete with sassy finger-snaps and Oprah-style faux ghetto talk? Have you learned nothing from your nine years on television?

Just kidding. I was rather amazed, however, at her total gall at claiming that not only had she never, ever implied that she had not had gastric bypass surgery, but that she had not actually tried to have her entire wedding to Big Gay Al provided free of charge. She tried to pass it off as a ploy cooked up by the network and the producers of "The View." HA!

It was also rather troubling to see how much of her sassiness (well, "sassiness" to some, "overbearing pushiness" to others) has been drained out her along with all that fat. She speaks in a wan, girlish whisper and seems like she's about to faint from lack of nutrients. Even Nicole Richie manages to have more pizazz on air, and she's living off four calories she consumed in 1999!

Also, after seeing the clips from "The View" on "Larry King," I was struck by how much younger and better Barbara Walters looks compared with Starzilla--and Barbara is approximately 102 years of age, so it is quite amazing!

There was lots of post-"Larry King" coverage of Ms. Jones Reynolds today. The NY Daily News published an article about Star's waning career and a letter from Star to her two fans, thanking them for the outpouring of love and support she has received:
Dear Friends,

How can I express my gratitude?

Thank you all for lending me your words of encouragement while going through such a challenging few days. I must say that had it not been for all of your e-mails and letters, this past week would have been very difficult.

It's like Maya Angelou has shared: "I've learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow."

Read the rest here. I love how she acts like she has written the "Letter From The Birmingham Jail," as if she was Martin Luther King valiantly fighting against the system for a greater good. Oh, Star. Star, Star, just got fired from a morning talk show, after making millions of dollars and getting your own Payless shoe section and a line of wigs. You are not Malcolm X!

Although it seems as if Star may try to dabble in politics, when she's not too busy dipping her dainty toes into the acting pool.

According to Ted Casablancas on E!Online:
Jones Reynolds hangers-on tell me the woman wants to enter into politics. Uhmawgawd! Jeez, isn't she already there, what with these heavy-handed machinations she's been pulling? Oh, the locale, so say these Jones Reynolds know-it-alls, for Ms. J.R.'s possible future stomping will be in--of all apropos places--Texas.

This is just perf.

Can't think of a big-ass state that deserves her more.

OK, stop right there, Casablancas! As a Texan, I resent that! What did we ever do to deserve Senator Star Jones Reynolds? Besides the Alamo, joining the Confederacy, killing J.F.K., and twice electing George W. Bush to the governorship, that is? Huh?

The rest of Ted's column is devoted to a behind-the-scenes look at his own appearances on "The View":
Every time I was on that morning talkfest, off-camera, the women--especially Barbara Walters and Joy Behar--were incredibly gracious with me. Oh, with the single exception of Star, that is. She would barely acknowledge me, even when I said hullo.

Mind you, I've never written more than three words about the woman, not really interested. But she always had a way of laser-daggering me with those little eyes of hers, as if she was going to hate me, regardless, just in case I ever did write something about her in the future.

Well, here it is, Ms. J.R.: I'm a writin' about you now, so maybe, just maybe, you were onto something all along.

No wonder Jones Reynolds isn't missed at The View, as has been widely reported. Do you know, I'm told, she attempted to have it written in her contracts what could--and could not--be said about her by others? Talk about an un-impromptu chitchat show! Also, S.J.R. rarely spoke with her coworkers, when the cameras weren't whirring. Certainly not when I was there. She was imperious, chilly and very impressed with herself, was the general consensus.

Well, of course Star was imperious and impressed with herself, Ted! You don't claw your way to the top of the tv heap by being a shrinking violet! (Although she is definitely shrinking in other ways.)

What will tomorrow's news bring? Stay tuned!

Thursday, June 29, 2006

Updated: The End Of Star Jones' Reign Of Terror

(from The Gallery Of The Absurd, naturellement.)

Yee-ha! There has been a flurry of activity today in the wake of Star Jones' less-than-elegant departure from "The View" and the subsequent public and much-needed bitch-slapping she received in the press from Barbara Walters, and since Felt Up loves to hate the Starzilla as much as the next guy, here's a round-up of the latest info:

Today Gawker reported that Star already has her own personal "All About Eve" situation developing, now that a newer, younger, cuter Star has already been installed on the show (for the time being):
It took just one day for Barbara Walters to replace Star Jones — temporarily, at least.

Today the ladies brought out Renee Elise Goldsberry, who’s kind of like Jones but better: still black, merely plays a lawyer on One Life to Live, and is soup-thin rather than soup-pooping-thin.

It’s Goldsberry’s third time hosting the show, but her first time acting as the minority glue that’s holding the place together.

It’s also the first time co-host Elizabeth Hasselbeck didn’t look scared for her life.

Renee Elise "Eve" Goldsberry

Then the NY Daily News ran a delicious story under the fabulous headline "The Claws Finally Come Out," in which Star lashes out like a large feral cat backed into a corner:
There is no love lost between Barbara Walters and Star Jones Reynolds of 'The View.'
Star Jones Reynolds has launched a bitter counterattack after Barbara Walters sensationally dissed her on yesterday's edition of "The View."

In an exclusive interview with the Daily News, the TV diva fought back after the show's creator said she felt let down, and that she was no longer welcome on set.

"For Barbara to say she felt betrayed is the height of hypocrisy," Jones Reynolds said last night.

Walters, who opened yesterday's show with the remark: "And then there were three," told viewers she was surprised when Jones Reynolds interrupted Tuesday's broadcast to say she was quitting.

"We gave her time to look for another job and hoped that she would announce it on this program and leave with dignity," said Walters, confirming Jones Reynolds' contract for a 10th season had not been renewed.

"But Star made another choice."...

Jones Reynolds recalled the April 21 phone call from her agents telling her she was being dropped from "The View."

"Barbara did not call me herself," she said, bitterly. "After nine years, she didn't call me. They told me my contract would not be renewed because my approval rating had gone down. ... I was like, whoa!"

She claimed producers had previously assured her that her job was safe when she challenged them about replacement rumors.

"I came to work every day. I held my head up. I operated in grace and dignity," she explained. "I knew since April but I still came to work."

Yes, if there are two things Star Jones is known for, it's "grace" and "dignity." Along with "freebie hound," "sham marriage," "stupefying tackiness," and "shameless self-promotion."

And Defamer noted yesterday that ABC had already elimated Star from "The View"'s opening credits and the show's web page:
Like a crack team of road pavers steamrolling over every last Star Jones-shaped lump in the asphalt, ABC is to be commended at how quickly and efficiently they managed to erase any memory of the undignified former co-host from all official materials.

Today's opening credits on The View featured neither her image nor her name, and now, as the Us Blog points out, the View website has performed yet another surgical reduction procedure on Jones.

I guess we won't have Star Jones Reynolds to kick around anymore, at least as far as ABC morning shows are concerned. However, hold onto your butts, because Janet Charlton mentioned today that:
Now Star Jones Reynolds is free to pursue her dream of becoming a MOVIE STAR!

You might not remember, but Star made a guest appearance on the Lifetime series Strong Medicine a few years back and she was DEVOURED by the acting bug.

Star figured if Oprah can act, she could too. Sadly, her boss Barbara Walters doused her acting aspirations - pointing out that Star could "lose credibility as a TV journalist and legal expert."

And that was THAT. Star had to put her passion to act on the back burner.

After her huge weight loss the idea of acting became even more plausible, but Ms Walters always stood in her say. Now she's FREE to give Hollywood a try, and we bet hubby Al is already packing his bags for Beverly Hills.

Hmmmm....I'll let you digest that nugget o' info for a second or two...

...OK, I'm back. Ready to go on? No? Not quite able to face the world? Try deep, cleansing breaths! In with the good air! Out with the bad thoughts of Star Jones Reynolds as a movie star!

Still not able to function properly? Well, go ahead and maintain that fetal position for a little while longer, or at least until Star's very special appearance on "Larry King Live" tonight at 9pm Eastern, 8pm Central. She'll be taking your calls!

Now if we can just figure out a way to get her off the mother-pluckin' red carpet...

Josh Duhamel's Waterloo?

So here's what's going on today in the exciting world of celeb non-news:

First up, Page Six reports that
TOMMY Lee got the better of "Las Vegas" hunk Josh Duhamel when the two rumbled at Bella nightclub in L.A. Tuesday night.

A witness tells us the drama unfolded after Duhamel pounded on the men's room door and yelled "Hurry up!" while Lee was inside.

"One of Josh's friends said, 'Stop, Tommy's in there,' " reports our spy.

"Josh replied, 'Tommy who? Tommy Lee, who cares?'

Tommy heard that and came out of the bathroom.

Words were exchanged and Josh ended up on the floor - I don't know if he was pushed or punched. Josh bolted outside and called for Tommy to meet him and 'fight like a man.'

Tommy was restrained and sent out the back door by security. Josh never did get to use the bathroom."

Dude, nobody disses Tommy Lee in a bathroom. All sensible people know that Tommy Lee has the emotional, intellectual, and mental development of a 14-year-old boy, so they damn well stay out of his way when there are toilets, large breasts, piles of cocaine, Vince Neil, or small children near swimming pools involved. (Oohh, did I just say that?) Not since The Great Bathroom Line Piven/Dorf Bitch Slap of 2006 have I heard of such pre-pubescently bad restroom etiquette from B-, C-, and D-List stars. Such gents in the gents these days!

Next we have a juicy blind item from Janet Charlton:
This he-man actor went to a swinging Beverly Hills party with a male friend and they encountered two playful strippers.

Fueled by liquor and drugs, the leading man and strippers ended up in the host's bedroom putting on an explicit show.

The guy got so carried away he pulled five or six onlookers to join in the orgy. And guess what - the sex-mad stud turned his attention to his male companion and forgot all about the girls!

He lived to regret the exhibitionist bisexual fling because Hollywood loves to gossip and that moment of madness caused everyone to re-evaluate his machismo!

Hmmm...once again, it could be anyone! Gay-leaning macho actors are a dime a dozn in Hollywood! However, "he-man" makes me think of the actor whose name rhymes with The Sock, or perhaps the one whose moniker sounds like Pin Measel, but what do I know? Got any better guesses or funnier rhyming names? Leave 'em in the comments box!

Next, from the UK Daily Mail, via the fabulous WOW Report, we have an in-depth investigation into the ravages of time on Madonna's claw-like hands:
At 47, Madonna has the body of a teenager but the hands of a grandmother.

Pictured yesterday leaving her gym after a workout, the material girl displayed hands that appeared to be ravaged by age, with bulging veins and paperthin skin that wrinkled as she clutched a bottle of mineral water.

Older women are particularly vulnerable to "ageing" hands because the menopause causes a drop in their levels of oestrogen - the hormone that helps to keep the skin plump and fleshy.

Ahh, the hands. This story reminds me of the movie "Fedora," about a Garbo-esque aging actress who always wears gloves to cover up her old, wrinkly hands even though plastic surgery has kept the rest of her looking pretty good. (If you haven't seen it, rent it! It's not the best Billy Wilder-directed movie--in fact, it may very well be the worst--but there's a twist at the end that will blow your mind! I am constantly referencing this movie in my daily life. Just ask Friend of Felt Up Terri R.)

Poor Madge. The entire planet lays awake at night thinking up ways to find flaws with her physique. Lord knows, I certainly do.

And finally, from Cityrag via JJB comes this admittedly cruel but pretty goddamned funny "Separated At Birth?" comparison of Ursula from "The Little Mermaid" and poor ole sadsack Britney Spears:

Oh, Brit. Don't despair! Everyone thinks Ursula is really attractive and just needs to hurry up and have that baby and dump her husband and she'll be right back to her old self again! And purple is a very pretty color!


Wednesday, June 28, 2006

Sometimes A Picture (Or Three) Really Is Worth A Thousand Words

And thank sweet baby Jesus for that, because I am now, finally, officially, speechless.

Star Bites Hand That Feeds Her, Axl Bites Leg

The long-anticipated (by me) booting of bridezilla Star Jones Reynolds from "The View" has been frought with controversy. Controversy, I say!

Apparently, Star was supposed to make the announcement that she was leaving on this Thursday's "The View," but decided to do it yesterday, instead, and then told People magazine that she was practically fired--and now Barbara Walters is fit to be tied. And really, what sane person would enrage the Walters? She is a scary, scary old broad who clawed her way to the top and would just as soon cut you and drink your blood as look at you. According to WENN:
TV veteran Barbara Walters feels "betrayed" by her The View co-host Star Jones Reynolds following her shock on-air announcement of her departure from the talk show. Walters, 74, was stunned when Jones Reynolds, 44, told viewers and her fellow presenters she would be leaving the ABC program after nine years yesterday morning, because the announcement was planned for Thursday.

Speaking to camera, Jones Reynolds said, "Something's been on my heart for a little bit, and after much prayer and counsel I feel like this is the right time to tell you that the show is moving in another direction for its tenth season and I will not be returning as co-host next year."

And in this week's issue of People magazine, Jones Reynolds says, "What you don't know is that my contract was not renewed for the tenth season. I feel like I was fired."

Walters, who created and produces the show, says, "I love Star and I was trying to do everything I possibly could - up until this morning when I was betrayed - to protect her. I would have loved for Star to have left and not said 'I was fired, ' and not make it look like the program was somehow being cruel to her."

Walters admits ABC network bosses declined to renew Jones Reynolds' contract after research showed audiences were turned off by the former lawyer's dramatic weight loss and her 2004 marriage to Al Reynolds, where she plugged companies on air in exchange for freebies for her wedding.

Walters adds, "We tried to talk them out of it and we tried to give Star time to redeem herself in the eyes of the audience, and the research just kept getting worse."

I love that quote from Star about all the "prayer and counsel" she needed to make her announcement--yes, just intense prayer, soulful counsel, and a big fat firing from the network was all it took. Dear god, she is a loathesome woman! But it's sad we wont' be able to watch the sparks fly between future "View" co-host and frequent Star basher Rosie O'Donnell. Even though I don't watch "The View," I feel the audience has been gypped out of some possibly great tv!

In other non-news, Axl Rose bit the leg of a hotel security guard in Sweden. The NY Daily News reports:
Axl Rose may not care for Sweden's famous herring and meatballs, but he has developed a taste for the country's hotel security guards. The Guns N' Roses front man spent most of yesterday in a Stockholm jail after biting the leg of a watchman at the Berns Hotel.

The 44-year-old rocker was released after admitting that he sank his teeth into the gentleman's flank steak. Rose agreed to pay a fine of $5,500. He was also ordered to pay $1,360 in damages to the guard.

A police spokeswoman said Rose was so drunk when he mistook the guard for a smorgasbord that cops waited till he sobered up to question him.

"He kept a high profile, so to speak," one of the arresting officers told a Swedish tabloid, which reported that Rose bared his fangs when the guard inserted himself into an argument Rose was having with a woman in the hotel lobby.

Last month, the singer got into a brawl with Tommy Hilfiger here at The Plumm after reportedly moving the drink of the designer's girlfriend.

Hilfiger didn't return our call for comment on Rose's teething incident. But perhaps he can whip up a Hannibal Lecter-style face mask in time for the band's next gig, in Oslo.

Oh, Axl. First the bitchslapping from wee lil' Tommy Hilfiger and now this. It's getting more and more difficult to take you seriously as an auteur and musical artiste extraordinaire!

I think all the cornrows, Botox, and plastic surgery has warped your already none-too-pleasant personality and turned you into a Bette Davis-in-"Whatever Happened To Baby Jane?"-style grotesque--and I couldn't be more pleased. Keep up the good work! I look forward to you serving a dead rat on a platter to Slash some day!

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Dance-Offs And Fag-Was!

Friend of Felt Up Terri R. sent in this, the top story in today's Page Six (with the bestest headline):

LINDSAY Lohan keeps such a busy social schedule that the fashion stylist she flew out from Los Angeles to keep her company in New York last week couldn't handle it and begged his friends for help to get home.

Nate Newell simply couldn't keep up with the 19-year-old, and after three days of keeping Lohan company as she promoted "A Prairie Home Companion," he'd had enough.

"Lindsay flew Nate out and said it would only be for a couple days," our source said. "She flew him out, put him up, paid for everything, and they had the best time . . . at first. But then Lindsay decided to stay. Nate couldn't take her constant partying. He didn't have the money to fly home, so concerned friends chipped in to buy him an immediate ticket out of there."
Lohan was said to be so upset to have been ditched that she text-messaged some friends: "[Newell] is dead to me." She was also saying that Newell owes her for his portion of the hotel room, plane ticket and other expenses.

Lohan's tireless publicist, Leslie Sloane Zelnik, balked at any suggestion that Lohan's hard partying caused a rift. "Please," said Zelnick. "Nate came to accompany her to New York on her press tour. He had a great time . . . He had to get back to Los Angeles for work. He had a video shoot. But they are fine. There was no drama whatsoever."

But whether or not Newell and Lohan are still pals, anyone can understand why he might have collapsed with exhaustion.

In just seven days, Lohan got into several verbal spats with Paris Hilton over their mutual boy toy, Stavros Niarchos, was seen at Bungalow 8 almost every night, had a dance-off at P.M., partied at Marquee, deejayed in the street for a Gap event, was kicked out of the SoHo House and got into a fight with Sean Combs at Butter - where she also threw glasses at owner Richie Akiva, according to our spies.

She also went to Kate Moss' baby daddy Jefferson Hack's birthday party at fashionista Genevieve Jones' SoHo apartment, where she seemed to quaff her share of Palmes d'Or champagne.

The late nights and the loss of her friend Newell must have gotten to Lohan. Thursday night, the freckled redhead was spotted on a sofa in the Hotel Gansevoort lobby sobbing before she headed down to the hotel's G-Spa club. That was the last Lohan sighting before she left to go back to L.A.

There are many interesting elements to this hard-hitting report. First of all, as Terri R. points out, what is up with Page Six casually throwing in a tossed-off reference to a "dance-off"? WHAT DANCE-OFF? Why are there no details? Did Lohan get served? Did she bring da noise, bring da funk? Was she the dance-offee or dance-offer? Who was the opponent? O Page Six, I beseech the: PLEASE PROVIDE MORE INFORMATION ON THIS EVENT IN TOMORROW'S COLUMN!

I also thought it was rather telling that Lohan had to pay to have someone be her friend for a few days. It doesn't sound as though there was a lot of "styling" going on, after all...It's kind of sad, when you think about it. But luckily I'm way too busy wondering about the exact logistics of her alleged dance-off to worry about that.

So how does she do it? How does Lohan keep burnin' up the candle at both ends? Well, obviously, it's a simple case of youthful exuburance! She is just naturally energetic, even a little hyper, and that's all there is to say about that! I remember when I was 19 years old (since it was only last year), and I partied day-in and day-out with my escort-service-hired "stylist"--but I was always bright-eyed and bushy-tailed the next morning, ready for my close-up.

Yes, it's a simple case of being young.

In other non-news, the NY Daily News has this little item featuring Elton John's husband:
Gay fashionistas, including Elton John's husband, David Furnish, were spitting mad last weekend after a bodyguard for Pharrell Williams cast them out of the hip-hop star's party lair in Milan.

Furnish, actor Rupert Everett and Burberry designer Christopher Bailey were among the stylish gents chilling in the VIP lounge at a GQ bash when a member of Pharrell's posse announced the party's star wanted more ladies in his presence.

Or, as the guy who delivered the eviction notice put it, "There's too much sausage [in the room]."

"It was disgusting and blatantly homophobic," says our spy, who was with the group. "We just left and issued a fag-wa against Pharrell. We hope his next album tanks."

Openly gay GQ editor Jim Nelson was allowed to stay, as was Everett, who was covering the Milan shows for Vanity Fair.

Afterward, a mortified GQ publicist apologized to the outcasts and invited them back. They refused.

Furnish confirmed to us that he'd been booted, but was impressed that Pharrell came over to sort things out at yesterday's Versace show.

"Pharrell was totally unaware of [the slight]," said Furnish. "It all came from a security guard. Pharrell said he felt awful."

OK, this isn't the most interesting story in the world, but I had to use it because it mentioned the word "fag-wa." Why haven't my gays told me about this delightful term? I have to remember to use that one in my daily discourse....and to figure out how I can work it into my new Myspace headline...

The best way to remember a new vocabulary word is to use it in a sentence, like: "If Bravo doesn't renew Kathy Griffin's show next year, we'll be forced to issue a fag-wa." (I am also partial to the word "gay-had," as in: "As part of our fundamentalist gay-had against the infidels who do not worship Liza Minelli, we must carry out a holy fag-wa.")

I love learning new vocab! Somebody come up with some more sentences that use our word(s) of the day and leave 'em in the comments box!

Monday, June 26, 2006

Somebody's Got A Bad Case Of The Mondays

Felt Up has been scouring the Internets looking for something--anything--of interest in the non-news department, and there's nada. Zilch. Zippo. At least according to my stringent standards. Where are the meltdowns? Dance-offs? Diva fits? Drug busts? Sexcapades? Why do celebs hate me so much? These are questions that only the Gods of Gossip can answer, when they aren't too busy taunting me with Tori Spelling's marriage, P-Hole Hilton's entire riculous existence, or the never-ending parade of celeb baby and pregnancy porn in my tabloids each week. But here's the measly, pathetic scraps:

It's all Night Of The Semi-Living Nicole Kidman's wedding, all the time. Yawn. Aaron Spelling is still dead. And poor, pathetic Britney Spears had to take $5,000 instead of the $200,000 she was asking for some "glamour" shots she was peddling to magazines in a damage control effort following her disastrously wonderful Matt Lauer interview.

And then from Fox News, there's this semi-funny explanation for the lack of Suri Cruise photos in the mass media (besides her lack of existence on this planet, that is):
If like everyone else you've been wondering what happened to Suri Cruise and why we've never seen a picture of her, here is part of the answer: No one wanted to pay for her.

According to my sources, a photo shoot of Suri was offered to Wire Image, the prestigious agency, for sale to the various celebrity magazines right after the little "Mission: Impossible"/"Dawson's Creek" tyke was born in silence to her unmarried movie star parents Tom Cruise and the dazed-looking Katie Holmes. An auction was conducted, with People, US Weekly, Star and the lesser names like In Touch all putting in their two cents.

Unfortunately, it must have felt like two cents to Cruise given the amount that Shiloh Jolie-Pitt fetched from People: $4 million, not to mention more from magazines around the world.

The Cruise auction is said to have produced not more than a $3 million bid. At that point, the offer was rescinded. The mission was termed "impossible." No further word was heard from the Cruise camp.

Exactly who from Cruise's strange inner circle initiated the contact is still unknown, although I am told the enterprise was "official." It's likely that the Church of Scientology would have gotten a cut, too, considering they like to take 10 percent of everything from their celebrity clients.

And now that Suri is almost three months old, has her price gone up or down? The answer, says one of the mag's experts, is down.

"Shiloh was the whole deal," my source said. "We won't see a baby like that again for a while."

In other words, Britney Spears shouldn't expect a windfall for her latest Federline product.

This whole "peddling the baby pix" thing gives me the creeps. Sure, Shiloh's purse went to charity, but still, I find it unseemly and hard to understand. Why does anyone care about a newborn baby's picture (besides one's own, I mean)? I know I am not the most, shall we say, maternally-minded of dames, but I just don't get the fascination with other people's children. Even famous people's children. They are still little kids, and what could be more boring?

Poor TomKat. They spent good money on the fake pregnancy belly and the ersatz sonogram machine and the photographic stunt baby, only to see their "baby" thunder stolen by Brangelina. They didn't realize that The World's Sexiest Baby always trumps Freaky Faux Baby every time.

Speaking of The Chosen One, here's some Shiloh for you. Might as well jump on the baby porn bandwagon. Sigh.

Friday, June 23, 2006

Justin Timberlake Finally Free To Make Things Right In The Universe And Bring Balance To The Cosmos

Well, it looks like fellow cougar Cameron Diaz has lost her cub, according to the brand new Janet Charlton website:
What with all the fake stories about rings and engagements, this major celebrity bustup has gone under the radar.

But this time it's really happened.

Both parties (Justin Timberlake and Cameron Diaz) want to keep it quiet - they don't want to make a big deal out of such a sensitive issue.

What happened is that Justin is poised to leave on a world tour and he wants to be free.

Last week he informed Cameron that it's over, just as she was about to leave town to film some movie pickups, and according to insiders "she is devastated."

"Tey were a great, well matched couple in many ways but Cameron (at 33) is ready to settle down and wants a commitment, even though she might not admit it. Justin is only 24 and he's been with Cameron for three years. He hasn't had a chance to sow his wild oats yet."

"A few weeks back, Justin and his buddies took off for a few days in Las Vegas and Cameron went chasing after him. She was just too clingy."

Poor old clingy Cam. She should know better than to try to hang on so tightly to a strong, independent black man like JT. She should listen to the advice of .38 Special and "hang on loosely, but don't let go."

Oh, well. C'est la vie. Cam just cannot hold onto a dude! Maybe she spends too much time fretting over her bad skin problems to pick out a suitable and/or age appropriate mate.

Now JT is free to rescue Britney from K-Fed's clutches! It would be the gossip story of the century! Forget Brangelina. Who cares about Vaughnniston? JT AND BS could rule the pages of my beloved Star once again! And why wouldn't JT run as fast as he couuld into those lovin' arms?

Believe me, it will feel just like home, JT.

Don't you remember the good ole days?

Sigh...We want our pop royalty back together! Down with K-Fed! Up with JT AND BS!

Thursday, June 22, 2006

I Am Cougar, Hear Me Roar

I have mixed feelings about this item in today's Page Six:
FAYE Dunaway, Joely Fisher and Joely's half-sister, Carrie Fisher, are sharpening their claws.

They're all starring in a new comedy, "The Cougar Club," about a group of older women who have sex with much younger men.

According to a flack for the flick, Dunaway will portray "Edith Birnbaum," the "Rolls-Royce" of cougars.

Carrie Fisher is "Professor Goodby" while Joely provides guidance in the art of pleasure in her role as "Lulu."

Also involved are former "GoldenEye" Bond Girl Izabella Scorupco - the youngest of the cougars - wrestling queen Joanie Laurer (who wrestled as China Doll), Kaley Cuoco ("8 Simple Rules"), Mo Collins and veteran comedian Sammy Shore.

The story follows two young men who graduate from college and work "at a law firm from hell."

The guys start a social club of other young men seeking sex with older women as a means of stress release.

OK. On the one hand, I am excited to see any movie that pairs blowsy ole broad Carrie Fisher with frightening diva Faye Dunaway. Who wouldn't be? But on the other hand, I attended the same high school as Joely Fisher. Does this make ME a "cougar"? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Sure, I was a freshman and she was senior, but still. I am in the same age group as a cougar! (For those not in the know, a cougar is the formerly pejorative word for an older lady who hunts for young, hot boy toys; now the word is embraced by these prowlers as a point of pride, as it were. See this article for more details if you're interested.) Anyhoo, the point is that, to me, Faye Dunaway seems like perfect casting. Eartha Kitt, Liza Minelli, Joan Collins--would all have been awesome. Because I envision older, glamorous, slightly nutso/scary ladies. Not me! Although, admittedly, Boyfriend of Felt Up Chepo P. is three and a half years younger than moi. Hmmmmmm. And I am rather glamourous and sophisticated. Oh. My. God. I am a cougar!

Somebody get me to a Botoxery, and pronto! Grrrrrrrrrrrrr...meow!

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

Whither The Real Catfights of Yore?

This story is making the ole rounds this's the version from The NY Daily News:
Sometimes don't you wish there was a principal who could suspend Lindsay Lohan and Paris Hilton?

The high-school catfight between the two international celebrities escalated Friday at a private Prince concert — with Sean (Diddy) Combs in a cameo role.

Jay-Z, Beyoncé, Jade Jagger, Petra Nemcova and Brian Grazer were among the other VIPs who squeezed into the club Butter's main room for an impromptu jam by the fastidious funkster. But Lohan couldn't keep her mind on His Purpleness when she spotted Hilton.

As you know, Hilton, 25, has been hissing at Lohan, 19, since she found out the "Prairie Home Companion" actress has been hanging out with the hotel heiress' ex Stavros Niarchos. The poison became more concentrated when Paris laughed at Brandon Davis' lewd taunt at Lohan at an L.A. club. (Despite his apology to Lohan, the oil heir wore a "Team Firecrotch" T-shirt last week before he checked into rehab.)

"Lindsay followed Paris to the bathroom," a witness tells us. "They had a huge fight."

After having words, Lohan returned to her table to find that hip-hop mogul Diddy had been seated with her group. She kidded with him, asking what he was doing at her table.

"He didn't realize she was joking," says a source, "and he then yelled at her and told her to get out."

Diddy "was really mean to her," says another source, who claims one of Puffy's bodyguards lifted up Lindsay, and the rapper himself got into a scuffle with a Lohan pal who defended her.

Bouncers eventually "moved Lindsay out of the booth," says a source. Outside, Lohan vented to Butter owners Scott Sartiano and Richie Akiva, allegedly demanding Diddy be ejected.

Lohan's posse moved on to Aer and then to Bungalow 8, where, according to a source, "Paris was at one table and Lindsay at another. There was kind of a standoff who was going to leave first."

Sigh. First of all, I kind of get violent and enraged when I hear about these "impromptu VIP" Prince concerts in tiny clubs with six tables that P-Hole Hilton gets to attend. Also, unless these Lohan/Hilton encounters start escalating into full-blown hair-pulling catfights and/or an honest-to-God dance-off, then I can't get too excited. Shouting in the bathroom? Yawn. Plus, anything having to do with Diddy bores me to tears--although I do love the fact that Lindsay claims she was "joking" when she accuesd him of stealing her table. Like she didn't have a complete diva cow. HA!

Other than all that, this is a great gossip item. Sadly, that's as good as it gets this morning.


On the upside, however, for some unfathomable reason, ABC News has a "Before and After" photo slideshow of actors who have gotten bloated and puffy over the years. Although the inclusion of two Baldwins seems a little unsporting--like shooting two extremely zaftig fish in a barrel--and they should've included Jimmy Fallon (my god, did anyoone see him on the MTV Movie Awards? he looked like someone who'd been floating facedown in a pool for a week) and formerly cute/currently puffed-up John Cusack, it's still a pleasant enough way to kill some time on a slow non-news day...

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Pack Your Knives, Katie Lee!

Thanks to Defamer for pointing Felt Up to the Televisionary blog, which had this exciting bit o' news tonight about Billy Joel's child bride:
The android has left the building. Or the test kitchen, anyway.

Top Chef's robotic host Katie Lee Joel, the veritable "Uptown Girl" herself, will NOT be sticking around for a second course of Bravo's hit culinary competition. According to a well-placed insider, Joel will "not be returning" to the show. No reason for her departure was cited.

Unfortunately, the perfect replacement for Joel, Top Chef judge and professional chef Tom Colicchio, will not be taking over as the reality series' host (damn!). Instead, the show's producers are currently scouring to find a replacement for Joel.

Top Chef's second season was announced by Bravo last month, but no return date has been set for the series' ten-episode sophomore season. Stay tuned as this story develops.

Oh, bravo, Bravo! Katie Lee's monotone delivery always reminded me of Will Ferrell's character from "SNL" who had "Voice Immodulation Disorder" ("HOW DARE YOU, TINA FEY!"), except, of course, without the funny.

I have to say, it took me a while to warm up to "Top Chef," since my heart and soul belonged to "Project Runway," but once I realized that it was this or nothing, I was soon totally addicted. I might as well just admit to myself once and for all that I am Bravo's reality tv bitch. They can put me out on a street corner and pimp me out for a few tricks, because every show they throw at me ("Life on The D List," "Real Housewives of Orange County," etc) just hooks me completely. I'm even looking forward to that gaywad "Work Out" show about a fitness trainer and something coming up about real estate agents in L.A. Throw in another season of "Blow Out," the upcoming premiere of the third "Project Runway" (starts July 12! OMG! AAAAAH!) and I'm going to be featured on A Very Special Episode of "Intervention."

As I write this I've got "Queer Eye For The Straight Guy" on in the background. My name is Jennifer and I'm addicted to Bravo!

Morning Becomes Electra

Dude, there is like no gossip today! And I'm sorry, but I can't muster up any enthusiasm whatsoever for barely human walking Botox injection Nicole Kidman's impending holy, sacred nuptials to extremely metrosexual country singer Keith Urban. Dullsville!

Since I'm reduced to scraping the bottom of the barrel, why not mention that Dave Navarro and his beard, Carmen Electra, may finally be ready to dissolve their sham of a marriage? According to my beloved Star Magazine:
Carmen Electra and Dave Navarro smile for the cameras, but insiders say their two-and-a-half- year marriage is all but over.

"It's not going to last the summer," a source close to the couple predicts. "They've really been separate for some time now, but it looks like they're going to let it fester for a while before they finally call it quits."

Further fueling split rumors was their behavior on June 7 — Dave's 39th birthday. Although Carmen, 34, went to see his new band, The Panic Channel, perform in West Hollywood, she didn't walk the red carpet with him and skipped his birthday party afterward, the insider observes.

"Since March, they've hardly been together at all," the insider says. "She's traveling all the time and doesn't even bother to tell him her schedule. Dave's pissed off, and the stress of seeing the marriage going downhill must be breaking him apart. I think one of the reasons she's working so hard is she doesn't want to face the fact that her marriage is over. Bottom line is that the thrill is gone."

The insider says Dave tried to patch things up, but it wasn't to be. "They soon drifted back into friction," the insider says. "His only hope is that he'll get into his music while he's off on tour. That might help him beat being bummed out about it all." Carmen's rep would only say, "They're still together."

Puh-leese. Don't insult our intelligence, Carmen's rep, whoever you are! Not since Star Jones gushed about her and Big Gay Al's sensual romance have I seen such a case of They Doth Protest Too Much.

Dave-n-Carmen are constantly in magazines or on the z-grade celeb shows like "Access Hollywood," talking about keeping the alleged spice in their alleged love life with lingerie shows or stripteases or tantric yoga or scented oils or bellydancing or what-have-you. HA! Elton John's marriage to that Australian lady was more believable!

And you have to wonder if maybe this marriage of convenience worked well for both of them--especially since Carmen's recent public gushings about her crush on Joan Jett. (Although, to be fair, what sane person doesn't have a crush on Joan Jett?)

Sure, sure, I could be wrong. It's just that there seems to be an inverse ratio between someone's heterosexuality and the amount of public canoodling they do. (Is that right, "inverse ratio?" Or is it "direct correlation?" Oh, you know what I mean.) Why not just come out? I'm all for being out, out, out! These facades must be so tiring to maintain all the time. It's exhausting just looking at all the elaborate faux sexiness that these people engage in before the cameras! Prancing around with the loathesome Pussycat Dolls and whatnot. (I'll tell you what--the first sign of impending marital doom is the wife hosting a Pussycat Dolls show. I'm talking to you, Jessica Simpson. And guess who is in the current issur of my beloved Star, all "Dolled" up? Miss Denise Richards, naturellement. It's the kiss of death! And not just aesthetically speaking!)

It's not like either of their careers would suffer by being honest. We are not talking about The A-List, here, people. Box office millions are not at stake (unlike, say, TomKat's situation). Navarro has the Jane's Addiction and Chili Pepper money safely in the bank. Rob Halford has already bravely blazed the trail for gay rock stars. Maxim wants--nay, hopes, prays--for Carmen to be a lipstick lesbian. There are no children to hurt (unlike, say, TomKat). No one takes either of you seriously as it is, so why not go for it?

Monday, June 19, 2006

Two Publicists Are Not, In Fact, Better Than One

Well, Felt Up called it: In the rehash of the now-infamous Britney Spears Interview Of Shame with Matt Lauer, I wondered where her p.r. team was during this debacle--and today's Page Six has the answer:
BRITNEY Spears needs guidance.

"Dateline" staffers were shocked when they showed up with Matt Lauer to interview Spears last week and found the pop star alone in her Malibu manse.

"Neither of her publicists, Leslie Sloane Zelnick or Nanci Ryder, showed up," said our source. Spears insisted on doing her own hair and makeup - a regrettable decision. Web sites derided her hair as a "rat's nest" and, when she started crying during the interview, one of her fake eyelashes fell off.

"When [the NBC crew] got there, they thought they had the wrong day . . . During the interview, no one was there to rein things in," we're told.

Spears, when asked about Kevin Federline being with a pregnant Shar Jackson when they first met, shot back, "Julia Roberts' husband had a pregnant wife when he hooked up with Julia, but no one ever talked about that!"

Spears wore flip-flops, a see-through tank and micro-mini jeans.

Reps tried to control the damage on Friday. "They asked NBC not to release footage to places like E!," said a source.

Asked why Spears was on her own for the interview, Sloane Zelnick said, "Britney is a grown-up and makes her own decisions."

Yes, she is a grown woman and a mother who makes her own decisions. Her own terrible, misguided, insane, traaaaaashy decisions--like making K-Fed the father of her child, changing her baby's diapers on the floor of a Victoria's Secret, and doing interviews on "Dateline NBC."

Oh, Leslie Sloane Zelnick, how can you be so callous when your client is clearly crying out for help? You know better than anyone that she shouldn't be left alone for more than five seconds, or she's liable to dropkick Sean Preston into a kiddie pool filled with jell-o shots during a Barbara Walters Special. Do your job, Leslie Sloan Zelnick and/or Nanci Ryder! Keep the press away from your client when she's dressed like a meth addict on her way to buy lottery tickets from the liquor store--which is, apparently, all the time. And for god's sake, buy her a hair brush and some Clearasil!

If you missed the interview, TMZ has helpfully provided a highlights reel

Saturday, June 17, 2006

Fly-Over States Have Celebrity Encounters, Too!

Friend of Felt Up Sarah had an amusing encounter with none other than Ashlee "Daddy's New Lil' Sweetheart" Simpson in Houston recently. It seems that Ms. Simpson had some trouble figuring out those high-falutin', newfangled motion-sensor paper towel dispensers in the restroom of Chuy's (a kitschy Tex-Mex restaurant that got its start here in Austin), and Sarah stepped in before Ashlee could do an embarrasing jig and blame her backing band and/or acid reflux disease for her predicament. Good going, Sarah!

Read all the gory details in Sarah's Myspace blog. And here's the photographic evidence:

I'm pretty sure Sarah is the one on the right, although Ashlee is almost unrecognizable with her new face! I bet Jessica is about ready to eat her own fist at this ongoing metamorphosis. HA!

Friday, June 16, 2006

The Gay White Way!

Sigh. From the "Why Am I Not Rich So I Can Fly To New York Whenever I Want And See Grandiose Spectacles Of Old-Fashioned Entertainment As They Happen?" File comes this wee report in Page Six about the afterparty for Rufus Wainwright's song-for-song re-enactment of Judy Garland's 1962 Carnegie Hall concerts:
JOHN Waters, director of such cult classics as "Hairspray" and "Serial Mom," suffered a case of mistaken identity after Rufus Wainwright's Judy Garland-themed Carnegie Hall concert Wednesday night.

Real estate mogul Steve Green invited about 150 people to his Essex House apartment for champagne and sushi - mainly the people who bought tickets through Empire State Pride Agenda, which used the concert to raise $100,000.

Rufus' folk-singing mother Kate McGarrigle continued with the Celine Dion impersonation she had done onstage for the likes of Lorna Luft, Alan Cumming, Carson Kressley, fashion designers Viktor and Rolf, plus Fred Schneider and Kate Pierson of the B-52s.

But Waters headed straight for one unidentified young man at the party and said, "It's so nice to see you after such a long time."

The Post's Frankie Edozien reports: "Waters had a conversation with him before getting a drink, and the guy turned to his pals and said, 'I've never met him.' "

I'm not sure why The Post is making such a big deal about John Waters mistaking some guy for someone else, but that's neither here nor there. Celine Dion impersonations! "Queer Eye" guys! B-52s! Lorna Luft!

How much gayer and more fabulous could this thing get? Only the appearance of Cher, Madonna, the cast of "The Golden Girls," the ghost of Truman Capote, the livinig incarnation of "Auntie Mame," and of course Liza herself (sorry Lorna!) could make it any more gay. As it was, the evening sounds absoulutely heavenly. Wowee! Huzzahs!

The WOW Report notes that the crowd skewed "older" gay instead of "hip, younger" gay, but who cares? The young stuff missed out on what sounds like a truly Memorable Event.


Thursday, June 15, 2006


I forgot to mention a tidbit from today's smorgasbord o' gossip! Page Six reports that Alec Baldwin was up for the part of fantabulous '70s fashion designer Halston in an upcoming biopic, but lost the role because he's "too fat and too bald." Now Brendan Fraser, of all people, is going to be Halston. Boo! Hiss!

Sure, Alec Baldwin might be un peu zaftig and, yes, he may perhaps lack a certain hirsuteness about the pate, but I still think he would be able to capture Halston's divinely decadent essence. Haven't the producers of the movie seen his stellar work as Charles Nelson Reilly on "Saturday Night Live"? It's genius! (Although in the interest of full disclosure, I must admit that j'adore all things Charles Nelson Reilly related. Between him and Paul Lynde, my childhood afterschool tv-watching days were filled with magic and laughter, and yes, tears. Tears of joy! But I digress.)

And since we're sticking to a food-related theme, heres a lil' midnight gossip snack: Friend of Felt Up Sharon C. called tonight with the urgent news that Britney Spears was getting interviewed by Matt Lauer on "Datleline NBC," and thank God she did, or I would have forgotten! I'd nearly betrayed the sacred trust of my loyal readers to keep abreast of all the truly important current events of the day! Luckily there was still time to watch, and people, I am here to tell you that this was some riveting television.

First of all, La Spears was wearing a very low-cut plunging top--with her ginormous pregnant boobs hanging out over the edge of an ever-so-slightly visible bra--and some sort of too short Daisy Duke-ish denim skirt. Her hair was way too bleachy blonde and you could see the exact place where her blunt-cut real hair lay on top of the fakey-fake, cheap-looking extensions. Her lipstick was kinda smeared, and there was something really weird going on with her fake eyelashes--on one eye, they appeared clumped together, like she'd fallen asleep with them on and woken up in a fit. Actually, her whole ensemble had a "just emerged from a medically-induced coma" vibe about it, and not in a good way. She chewed gum nonstop during the interview, even when she broke down sobbing about the cruel intrusions of the paparazzi on her life. She blah blah blahed about being a good mom and not putting her baby into a carseat that time because she's "country" (she actually said this, I'm not making it up) and that when she finally gets back to making music again, she wants to work with good people and find her "nick" or possibly "neck," but Sharon and I both thought she meant to say "niche."

Oh, Britney! Where were your handlers? Do you not have a stylist? Do you earnestly but tragically eschew the image-makers and publicists and spin doctors and hairdressers and facialists who keep most other celebs looking presentable to the public in some misguided attempt to "keep it real"? What is going on? Is this a cry for help? Were you hoping Matt Lauer would whisk you away from the disaster of your personal life and give you an Eliza Doolittle-esque makeover?

Well, whatever this was, I'm glad I got to witness it. Like a rubbernecker at a trainwreck, I couldn't turn away! Don't go changin', lady. Look like hell! Say crazy crap! Drop your kid on his head a couple more times! Give K-Fed a raise! You are the light of my life. The trashy, unkempt, blowsy-before-your time, unbelievably disheveled light!

Gossip Smorgasbord!

Yes, though there isn't one super-spectacular, utra-awesome, David-Gest-Prances-Around-With-Jane-Russell-caliber gossip item today, there are quite a few little morsels that when put together almost make a meal. A funnel cake, cotton candy, and corndog kinda meal, but a meal all the same! (Mmmm. Corndogs....)

First up, the continuing downward spiral of The Trashiest Mommy In Hollywood, from WENN:
Britney Spears stunned shoppers and staff at a Victoria's Secret lingerie shop last week, when she changed her son's diaper on the store's dirty floor.

The Toxic singer was shopping at the shop in Mission Viejo, California, on June 4, where she purchased some pink g-stings with eight-month-old son Sean Preston in tow.

The tot needed to have his diaper changed and the 24-year-old plopped him down on the floor next to the cash register.

A shocked sales associate recalls, "We don't have the cleanest floors. She just put him down and changed his diaper and then handed it to a sales clerk saying, 'Can you throw this away for us?' We told her that we couldn't put that in our trash."

Oh, bless her lil' backwoods, barefoot heart! I can't help but love someone as famous as she is who would do this. While buying pink g-strings. At a mall. I think even a non-celeb changing a diaper in the middle of a Victoria's Secret would cause some shock and dismay, but the world-famous wife of hardcore rapper extraordinaire Kevin Federline? Amazing! I heart Britney!

The saddest part of all is that Britney still doesn't know how to fold a diaper correctly:

Next up we have a delightfully bitchy item in Page Six about Dame Madonna Ritchie's new stint as H&M's spokesmodel:
H&M is getting second-guesssed for tapping Madonna as its new celebrity endorser - not because she's too edgy for the teen fashion chain, but because, at 47, she's too old.

"These kids trade in stars every two or three years, and many don't know Madonna," ad legend Jerry Della Femina told us. "I could see her signing up with Loehmann's, I can't see her with H&M."

Madonna's spokeswoman, Liz Rosenberg, retorts: "I defy any 18-year-old to do a quarter of what Madonna does on stage. I hope Jerry Della Femina takes a nice pill."

Meanwhile, Loehmann's was excited. "We'd love to have Madonna - if we could afford her," chirped store flack Linda Mann.

Normally, I don't like people who persist in throwing female celebs out to pasture once they get past 40, but in this case, I'm all for it! Madonna is a grotesque. I know the gays still love her, and God knows I usually love what the gays do, but this time I have to say: Enough! Enough with the carved-out scary face and the backbends and The Thighs Of No Return. I like my Madonna with bits of lace and fishnet sticking out her hair and a thousand rubber o-rings dangling on her wrist, not this be-leotarded freak who sounds like the Queen Mum and rambles on about Kabbalah. Bleh!

As for Loehmann's--heh, heh, and double heh. I love it! For those not in the know, Loehmann's is a discount store chain that carries racks upon racks of designer clothing with the labels cut out, and is famous for its horrifying communal dressing rooms. (Felt Up has spent many a mortifying moment sucking in the gut and trying hard not to stare at nearby old ladies' odd, frightening undergarments in a Loehmann's dressing room, let me tell you. But I digress.) To be fair, I do think most 18-year-olds do know who Madonna is. I just think that they, like the rest of us, find her terrifying.

And, finally, here's something sure to warm the heart of Friend of Felt Up and Zach Braff superfan Ursula F. From WENN:
Scrubs star Zach Braff and Mandy Moore have ended their relationship, according to media reports in the US.

The couple have reportedly gone their separate ways, mainly due to the nine-year age gap between them.

Us Weekly West Coast Editor Ian Drew says, "They both decided that after two years, Mandy was a little young. Zach was ready for something different and they wanted to just kind of test the waters a little bit. It was an amicable break."

A source tells the American magazine, "Mandy was very young when they got together and she wanted to see what's out there, now that she's a woman. Zach was mature and realized it is time to let her do that."

The pair have been tight-lipped about their relationship, but the 22-year-old singer launched a scathing attack on tabloid journalists earlier this week, who reported on the rumored break-up. She wrote on her website, "I believe that personal issues (like this one) should be kept private. This sort of unscrupulous conduct should be unethical for the media to practice and I'm sickened by the extent that these people are willing to go to make a name for themselves."

The 31-year-old Garden State star has wasted no time moving on, he was recently seen partying with pals at Hollywood hot spot Hyde on June 8 and unsuccessfully romancing Jessica Simpson.

I have decidedly mixed feelings about this, for Ursula's sake. On the one hand: Yay! Zach and Mandy have broken up! On the other hand: Dear Sweet Baby Jesus. Jessica Simpson? Have you lost your ever-loving little mind, Zach Braff? Good god, man! Get a hold of yourself! Don't go down the path of darkness. Turn away from Evil. Say "no thanks" to Beelzebub. Find yourself a nice, age-appropriate, non-singing, non-pro lady and turn your back forever on the seedy temptations of people named Simpson. ACK! I just thought of something terrible! STAY AWAY FROM ASHLEE! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE ZACH BRAFF! RUN FOR THE LIGHT! RUN FOR THE LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Be My Gest

I'm off to sunny San Antonio today to see if my bike might be in the basement of the Alamo, but I couldn't leave without letting loyal Felt Up readers feast their eyes on the lead story in Page Six today, which is my favorite one to come down the pike since The Great Heather Mills Hooker Saga of two days ago:
LIZA Minnelli's estranged hubby sexually harassed his male assistant, making crude comments about his manhood and grabbing his rear end, a federal lawsuit claims.

Charles Beyer
said he went to work for David Gest at his Tennessee home on July 25, 2005, and the oddball producer made "sexual gestures from the beginning, forcing me to use his computer in the master bathroom, making comments such as, 'You have a small [sex organ], I bet,' [and] grabbing my butt."

Beyer claims Gest also "wrote in my calendar on numerous occasions," leaving directions such as, "Shake my penis, make sure it feels good," wash it "in hot water" and "dip it in chocolate fudge."

"All the allegations are false," Gest's lawyer, Eddie Bearman, told The Post's Dareh Gregorian. He called Beyer's $300,000 suit "a bogus attempt to get money from a celebrity" and noted the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission dimissed Beyer's complaint against Gest.

Beyer didn't return our call, but his suit is filled with explicit claims about Gest's "unwelcome physical and verbal sexual harassment." Once, Gest allegedly told an employee at a casino that Beyer had "had a sex change" and "was actually a woman." The employee "came to me while I was with my fiancée and congratulated me on such a good job," Beyer's filing says. "It was humiliating."

OK, let me just interject right here that although so far this is a dynamite piece of gossip, the part that comes next takes it to a whole new level, one that I think should earn Page Six a non-journalistic award of some kind:
Gest supposedly told actress Jane Russell that Beyer was married to his male hairdresser, and once grabbed Beyer's "private area" - and once paid his bodyguard to grab it, the filing says. After Beyer complained to the EEOC, Gest toned down his physical antics but continued to "make comments about my manhood," Beyer said.

According to Bearman, Russell denies Beyer's account, saying it was "made up," and has offered to testify on Gest's behalf.

Beyer, 35, claims Gest yelled at him when he stuck up for Minnelli, whom Gest is suing for allegedly beating him up.

"He was taking items such as LPs that were marked 'Liza' and began pouring paint on them," Beyer says. "I told him just send her stuff back . . . I told him she would understand and it would look better for him. He said, 'HELL NO!!!"

Bearman said Gest has "ample evidence to refute" Beyer's claims, including numerous witnesses. He also said Gest has been an ideal citizen since moving to Tennessee: "This is a man who's very helpful to the Memphis community, doing wonderful things - feeding the homeless and other civic-minded deeds."

JANE RUSSELL!?! David Gest palls around with full-figured gal and idol of Felt Up Jane Russell? I wasn't sure that Gest was gay--anyone could ask their male aid to dip their penis in chocolate, after all--but sipping mint juleps in Memphis with Jane Russell pretty much nails it in my book. He might as well start drinking Perrier and putting on tributes to Liza Min--oh, right. Heh.

I'm kind of jealous of David Gest and his hideous melting Michael Jackson face. Except for the lawsuits, he's living the Felt Up dream!


Awesome. Just totallly awesome in every way. How much there is to learn and admire about Liza Minelli's orbit! I love her more every day. Huzzah!

Adios, amigos!

Monday, June 12, 2006

She Didn't Lose A Leg, She Gained An Arms Dealer!

Just when your humble Felt Up blogette was about to despair that the only gossip being peddled around this morning was a story about dolphins attacking Jessica Alba on the set of "Flipper" a decade ago (see "STARS SEE DOLPHINS' DARK SIDE" if you're interested), lo and behold came this delightful headline from across the pond:

'Heather was a high-class hooker paid thousands'

Yes, it seems that poor one-legged gold-digger Heather "Soon To Be The Ex-Mrs. Paul McCartney" Mills not only posed for a dirty Teutonic book back in the go-go '80s, she also was a callgirl for wealthy Arab tycoons and interntational arms dealers livin' large in London. Huzzah!

From The Daily Mail, here's a rather long excerpt from the even longer article, but read on if you like hearing about orgies, buffets, and "greasy" Arab princes. And really, who doesn't?
Heather Mills was fighting to salvage her reputation yesterday after an onslaught of revelations, including sensational claims that she worked as a high-class prostitute.

The estranged wife of Sir Paul McCartney was in frantic talks with her lawyers after two former vice-girls said she was paid thousands of pounds a night for having sex with wealthy Arab businessmen.

An ex-aide to a Saudi-born arms dealer also claimed to have handed over around £6,400 in cash to Miss Mills after she took part in sex sessions with his boss.

The claims are a devastating blow to Miss Mills who separated from the former Beatle last month after four years of marriage.

They come just days after pictures of her posing naked for a pornographic German book called Die Freuden Der Liebe (The Joys of Love) were unearthed...

Former escort girl Petrina Montrose claimed Miss Mills was one of three women hired to take part in an orgy with an Arab prince. Miss Montrose said she and Miss Mills had been told to go to the five-star Dorchester hotel, in Central London.

Miss Montrose, who is now 37 and lives in Essex, said: "It was a really lavish affair. There was a buffet of Lebanese food and Ashley [the madam] was already there with a group of about six working girls, including Heather.

"The prince was tall and greasy and I wanted to leave but I knew that to get my money I'd have to have sex with anyone in the room who picked me. Still, Heather was bubbling over with enthusiasm."

Miss Montrose said she was eventually summoned to the prince's bedroom to find two other women were already there naked - including Miss Mills.

When the orgy finished "Heather made no attempt to put her clothes on" she told the News of the World.

"Instead she started parading naked around the room, trying to impress the prince even more." Miss Montrose said she was paid £1,000 for her night's work.

Abdul Khoury, who claims to have been arms dealer Adnan Khashoggi's private secretary from 1977 until last year, said one of his responsibilities was to look after prostitutes for Mr Khashoggi, once listed as the world's richest man.

He told the News of the World: "One [of the prostitutes] was Heather Mills who I know had sex with him on a number of occasions in return for money," he was quoted as saying.

He described one occasion in 1988 when Miss Mills was flown out to meet Mr Khashoggi at his villa in Marbella, Spain.

"She was booked to attend a party with another lady. I arranged their flight tickets from London and met them personally," he said.

"The day after the party I took Heather and her companion… to see Mr Khashoggi. Before they left, Mr Khashoggi called me in and asked me to count out two amounts of £2,000 to put the money into envelopes and to give them to each of the girls.

"Sometimes Mr Khashoggi would make comments to me about the girls he paid to have sex with him.

"In Heather's case I remember his remark that she had soft skin. And was very athletic in bed. Mr Khashoggi was always very pleased with Heather's performance."

According to Mr Khoury, Miss Mills had at least four other meetings with Mr Khashoggi.

These took place in luxury hotels in London during the early 1990s. After each occasion, she was paid $2000 in cash.

Oh, there's more. Lots more. "Girlie scenes" for Saudi royalty, pre-wedding putdowns of Sir Paul's musical talents, dropped towels, dirty books--the list goes on and on. All the sleaze you can handle, right here.

One does wonder about the timing of all this. Surely all these ex-callgirls and former naughty models recognized Ms. Mills long ago. Did Paul spread around some big Beatles bucks to put the kibosh on the stories when they first got together? Did he spread even more around to unleash the gossip to help ensure she doesn't get a big chunk of his wealth in the divorce settlement? Did he ever envision that when he actuallly turned 64, he'd be married to a one-legged alleged whore who would drive his children away, make him get plastic surgery, force him to die his hair a supremely unnatural-looking dark brown, and make him a laughing-stock? Stay tuned!

Friday, June 09, 2006

How Dark The Con Of Brad?

Thanks to the WOW Report, via Tabloid Whore, feast your eyes on the best tabloid cover ever produced by humankind:

First of all, obviously, is the main story: That "The Sexiest Baby in The World" might not be Brad's! Aaaaaaah! Wrap your blown mind around that one! It may be the greatest and silliest deception since the "secret" in "The DaVinci Code." (Saw the movie, finally, by the way, and since I never read the book, I have to say that it made no sense whatsoever and was also very dull. But Ian McKellan was his usual charming, roguish self and as much as I hate to admit it, Audrey Tatou looked incredibly lovely. There! I said it! Are you happy, now, world? But you'll never get me to see "Amelie"! Never! But I digress...)And as shocking as that idea may seem on first glance, doesn't it totally have the ring of truth? Apparently Angelina Jolie was canoodling with her ex-husband Johnny Lee Miller right around the time she got knocked up...

But I especiallly love Le Scandale de Lipo de Janet Jackson. I mean, girl, please. You lost half your body weight in six weeks! From "more to love" to six-pack abs, from sweatpants to tiny bikinis--practically overnight! And don't give me that "egg whites and Pilates" crap, either, Missy. You know you had it all sucked out of you with a vacuum! HA!

And the claim that Paul McCartney was spousal abused by his one-legged naughty porn star shrew of a wife (warning: nsfw) is just too wonderful for words. It really needs no further comment, except to say: BRAVO, National Enquirer! BRAVO!

Thursday, June 08, 2006

You're Nothing, Baby. Nothing!

Page Six has added a few more layers of nuance to The Great Bungalow 8 Bathroom Battle of 2006 today, cunningly headlined:


MORE details are trickling in about the faceoff between "Entourage" star Jeremy Piven and actor Stephen Dorff we told you about yesterday.

Another somewhat sober spy - who was standing right behind Piven at Bungalow 8 when Dorff tried to cut to the front of the bathroom line - tells us how he remembers it went down: "Jeremy throws his arm out to stop him and says, 'No, no, no. You are going to wait in line like the rest of us, you privileged, spoon-fed son of a bitch.'

Then Piven turns to the long line of people who are all watching and asks, 'Anyone wanna see this guy cut the line?' People shake their heads no. Dorff starts making threats and gets in Piven's face. Piven doesn't move an inch - in fact he laughs and taunts him with a chuckle and says, 'What are you gonna do? You're nothing, baby! Nothing!"

Dorff was fuming and his face was turning red. Dorff started to say something about 'having class' and how Piven just made a huge mistake because he has some very powerful friends.

Dorff leaves him with this gem: 'You are done, see you in line for my next movie.' "

Ahh, it's good to see that the art of verbal jousting with rapier wit and clever bon mots is not dead in America.

I have to say, point Piven. At least he waited in line with the plebes.

Dorff, you sir, are a delight! A washed-up, never-was pathetic delight! Quelle ridicule!

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

When The C-List and D-List Collide, We All Benefit

Regular readers of Felt Up know that I like to take silly celeb gossip items and embellish or comment upon them to point up their inherent ridiculousness. But every so often a story comes along that is so pristine, so perfect--like a flawless diamond, or a long-stemmed rose dripping with dew, or an assistant forced to breastfeed Kirstie Alley's pet possum--that it stands alone.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you "Actors Act Like School Jerks," from today's Page Six:
"ENTOURAGE" star Jeremy Piven and actor Stephen Dorff nearly came to blows after trading insults in the wee hours of yesterday morning at Bungalow 8.

Both actors - who had come from Sean Combs' party at Pink Elephant after the Council of Fashion Designers of America Awards - were, according to many spies, "well lubricated" when they showed up at Bungalow at around 1:30 a.m.

Piven, a well-known swordsman who once made out with four different women in 10 miutes in front of a Page Six reporter, had just gotten done telling our spy how he wanted to "score with chicks," when Dorff - who was in "Blade" and "Cecil B. DeMented" - cut the bathroom line in front of him.

According to our source, the altercation was "very high school."

Piven: "Yo, what are you doing? You know you don't need to cut the line!"

Dorff: "I can do what I want!"

Piven: "No, you can't!"

Dorff: "Yes, I can!"

Piven: "You're a has-been!"

Dorff: "At least I am a movie star - you're only on TV! Cable TV!"

The last comment caused Piven to scream expletives, and security guards were called before the two could come to blows.

A witness said, "Jeremy, who actually had a table, was shoved into a bathroom by security and left shortly after. And Dorff, who was in the standing-only section, kept hanging around all night telling anyone who would listen, 'I am going to kick Jeremy Piven's ass!' It was hilarious."

Dorff ended up at 5 a.m. at Scores West, telling strippers, "I'm a movie star - you should want to sleep with me," according to one member of his entourage.

We tried to call Piven's rep - Dorff doesn't have one - but it seems his longtime rep, Siri Garber, fired him Monday. "He has morphed into his obnoxious 'Entourage' alter ego, Ari Gold," a source said.

Last week, Piven was "obnoxious" at the "Entourage" premiere at the Arclight Cinemas in L.A. Spies relate that he kicked Garber out of her seat midway through the screening "so some hot chick he had just met could sit down. He was loud and awful to her. Siri has been with him forever and done everything for him - he is a pig."

Garber declined comment.

OK, forget what I said about this standing alone! I have to comment on it! I'm not made of stone after all, people. I am but flesh and blood.

Anyhoo, there are so many wonderful aspects to this saga; where to begin? I think I'll start with how fabulously, gloriously pathetic it is that:

a) Page Six had to provide screen credits for the gazillion readers who didn't know who the hell Stephen Dorff is!

b) He had to scream that he is a "movie star," not a cable tv star, when in fact, he is none of the above--see a)!

c) That he told a stripper she should want to sleep him with him because of his stellar work in such gems as the worst John Waters movie of all time, "Cecil B. DeMented"! (And please, before everyone gets their panties in a bunch, j'adore John Waters, but that was the biggest stink bomb ever to star Melanie Griffith, and that is saying a lot. And yes, I'm including "A Stranger Among Us," in which she is an undercover cop pretending to be a Hasidic Jew.)

d) That he was in the Bungalow 8 standing-room only section with the little people!

e) That he doesn't even have an agent these days!

Why do you have to act like such a Dorff?

As for Piven and his hair plugs (dude! you had way less hair in "Say Anything" in 1989!), I guess his Travel Channel program "Journey of a Lifetime," where he goes to India in search of spiritual enlightenment, inner peace, and outdoor yoga lessons really did the trick and practically made him a yogi full of peace, love, and understanding. (Yes, I saw the show. What of it? Ye who liveth in glass houses may casteth the first stone!)

Making his female agent give up her seat for a bimbo, getting fired by said agent, saying out loud that he wanted to "score with chicks," getting into a pissing match with The Dorff--any one of these things should qualify the man for an immediate episode of "Intervention" in which his concerned family and friends force him to watch all of his old movies (including "Car 54, Where Are You" and "Very Bad Things") over and over again with "A Clockwork Orange"-style toothpicks holding his eyes open, until he promises to go to a 12-step program to help him with his raging, out-of-control problems with egomania, self-adoration, and addiction to beauty treatments. Tough love, Piven family! It won't be easy, but he needs tough love!

The Maraharishi Mahesh Piven avec les plugs...

Sadly, Dorff is beyond help and should just be put out to pasture on "The Surreal Life."