Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Next Up: Botox!



Loyal readers (both of you!) may have noticed the new look of Felt Up. Every now and then, a gal likes to get a little work done (you know, tastefully, not too tight--like Susan Sarandon) as part of the aging process. And now that Blogger's new beta enables constant template switching without too much sturm und drang, don't be surprised if every single time you try to read this blog, it is completely unrecognizable, a la Ashlee Simpson.

If you like the new look, let me know. If not, you're dead to me. Ha ha, just kidding. No, I'm not. Yes, yes I am.

No, I'm not...

He Was My Wife's Elf--And So Is The...



Last night's episode was so action-packed that I can hardly see straight! Let's jump right in, shall we?

On the last episode of "Nip/Tuck" there was:

One scene of the supposedly nice surgeon buying an expensive piece of jewelry for his snotty little daughter who, as his creepy Michael Jackson-lookalike son points out, is only 12 years old and a tad young for something so pricey.

One exposition that the supposedly nice surgeon is looking forward to Christmas with his snotty little daughter, but then is called by his wife and told that the little snot has strep-throat and can't come down to Florida after all.

One sadsack surgeon asking his creepy son and his son's former porn star/Scientologist/wife/mother of his unborn child to come over for Christmas; the creepy son informs his dad that he and the little missus are going on a Scientogist cruise instead (!).

One sadsack surgeon asking the supposedly rat bastard surgeon and his fiancee/boss lady to join him for Christmas; the supposedly rat bastard surgeon informs his partner that he and the little missus are going to St. Petersburg for Christmas instead. (Sadly, your humble Felt Up blogette is so underfinanced she could only conceive of St. Petersburg, Florida as an "impulse travel" destination, not the St. Petersburg, Russia that was their real vacation plan. Sigh.)

One sadsack surgeon hitting the sauce in his consultation office during an interview with a woman who wants a "g-spot amplification" procedure so she can have a "killer orgasm" as a Christmas present to herself (it's the gift that keeps on giving!).

One scene of the drunken sadsack surgeon performing the g-spot surgery, that ends with "full release" for the patient, while "Joy To The World" plays in the background.

One Christmas ham arriving from Escobar, the murderer/escaped convict whose face the surgeons changed into the FBI's fourth most wanted criminal, then back to his real, number one most wanted face, before he killed a bunch of guards and ran off.

One FBI agent wanting to know why Escobar sent the surgeons a ham, then demanding to put in guards and eventually surveillance cameras at the surgery.

One boss lady/former prostitute/blackmailee telling her blackmailer, Madame Jacqueline Bisset, that she can't use the surgery for her organ-theft ring anymore, since the Feds will be watching.

One sadsack surgeon encountering a drunken homeless man with a bad sunburn, played by Charles Haid, of "Hill Street Blues" semi-fame.

One supposedly rat bastard surgeon finding out that the baby named Wilbur he once thought was his, but turned out to be the result of his then-girlfriend/sex addict's one-night stand with an African-American stranger, has been left to him by the baby's true father, who has died; the supposedly rat bastard surgeon is ecstatic.

One supposedly rat bastard surgeon tellilng his fiancee/boss lady that they are about to become proud parents; she is not so ecstatic, and tells him she just got done changing poor dead Larry Hagman's diapers and is not ready to start changing a baby's.

One arrival of Wilbur, truly the world's cutest, most adorable and enchanting child, who, upon seeing the supposedly rat bastard surgeon for the first time in years, says "Daddy." WILBUR!

One scene of the sunburned homeless "Hill Street Blues" alumnus making remarks about the sadsack surgeon's Gucci suit and asking if he's going to get rid of his old Brooks Brothers suits; the sadsack surgeon engages in banter with the homeless man, but fails to offer him the old suits.

One grotesque scene of a man in a Santa Claus costume getting the deadened, charred skin of his burned legs removed; your humble blogette totally called that he was burned in a chimney.

One lesbian couple--half of which is played by Alanis Morrissette--asking if the sadsack surgeon could take Santa's place at the charity picture-taking event for which they are volunteering at the local mall.

One extremely drunk sadsack surgeon scaring, shocking, and freaking out a series of children who had the misfortune of sitting on the knee of Drunken Sadsack Santa.

One extremely drunk sadsack surgeon flirting with a female dwarf in an elf costume inside Santa's Workshop; he asks her if she "knows Marlowe" (!) and when she asks which elf he is, the surgeon responds, "He was my wife's elf." (!)

One scene of the supposedly rat bastard surgeon arriving at the mall with WILBUR, the word's cutest and most adorable child, to see Santa and ask for presents; instead, he, WILBUR, and the two lesbians witness Santa getting his own kind of present, a b.j. from the female elf (!).

One scene of the sadsack surgeon being confronted by the woman with the g-spot amplification; apparently her g-spot is so amplified that she can't drive a car, get a vibrating phone call, or take a spinning class without "full release"; she is miserable and demands a do-over; she also rightly accuses the sadsack surgeon of being drunk when he performed the operation.

One supposedly rat bastard surgeon coming in to console the g-spot lady, offer her a free do-over with "complimentary Botox," and accuse the drunken sadsack of being a drunken sadsack.

One scene of the supposedly rat bastard surgeon's boss lady/fiancee discovering with great pleasure and joy that not only is WILBUR an African-American baby, but he is also the cutest, most adorable child ever to walk the face of the earth.

One sadsack surgeon on the beach at nigh getting drunk by a fire; he is confronted by the sunburned homeless "Hill Street Blues" alumnus, who tells him that a) he just earned $20 in a "bum fight," which makes your humble blogette want to commit hari kari, and b) the drunken sadsack surgeon needs to hold onto the light and get past the darkness in his life; he throws the drunken sadsack surgeon's bottle of booze into the ocean.

One drunken sadsack surgeon offering to stitch up the sunburned homeless "Hill Street Blues" alumnus' beaten-up face.

One drunken sadsack surgeon offering to let the sunburned homeless "Hill Street Blues" alumnus sleep in the recovery room and inviting him over to his house for Christmas the next day.

One scene of Madame Jacqueline Bisset, also in the recovery area, speaking in French to one of the scary and super-hot Asian gangsters, who threatens to break her neck if she doesn't meet their "Christmas quota."

One very bad feeling descending on your humble blogette.

One scene of Madame Jacqueline Bisset offering champagne to the sunburned homeless "Hill Street Blues" alumnus, after calling champagne "the reason for living."

One scene of domestic bliss--the supposedly rat bastard surgeon, his boss lady/fiancee, and WILBUR, the cutest and most adorable child ever to walk the earth, enjoying Christmas Eve together--interrupted by Madame Jacqueline Bisset, who demands the boss lady/fiancee come over to the surgery.

One horrible shot of the sunburned homeless "Hill Street Blues" alumnus on an operating table with all of organs removed; Madame Jacqueline Bisset demands that the boss lady help her remove the body.

One totally spot-on call by your humble blogette that the ladies will use Santa toy sacks to remove the body in front of the FBI agents stationed at the surgery.

One incredibly sad scene of the sadsack surgeon boxing up his old Brooks Brothers suits and placing it under the tree.

One arrival of the supposedly rat bastard surgeon and WILBUR, the cutest and most adorable child to ever walk the earth, at the sadsack surgeon's house to spend Christmas Eve with him.

One shocking set of previews indicating that Madam Jacqueline Bisset is going to kidnap WILBUR, the cutest and most adorable child to ever walk the earth, and possibly STEAL HIS ORGANS! AAAAAAAAAAAH!

One blogette on the edge of her seat! AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

J'accuse, Friends of Kid Rock. J'accuse!

Oh, I just knew that the Kid Rock p.r. camp was not going to be able to let sleeping dogs lie! After yesterday's report in Page Six which claimed he called Pamela Anderson a "slut" and a "whore" after watching her in the "Borat" movie, it was inevitable that someone associated with Kid would fling about some crapola about Pammy. And so in today's Page Six we have the classy move we've all been waiting for: The attack on Pam's mothering. Oh, and her lack of funds, because nothing is worse than not being rich:
FRIENDS of Kid Rock (real name Bob Richie) say his marriage to Pam Anderson ended after four months because he was tired of staying home with the kids while she was out partying..

"Bob rearranged his life for Pamela," a Rock pal tells us. "He moved from Detroit - something he said he would never do - and moved his son to L.A. to be with her."

But once Rock was in L.A., he found himself a single father to not only his son, Robert James Richie Jr., but to Anderson's two kids, Brandon and Dylan, as well.

"Pamela would go out almost every night and end up at [photographer] David LaChapelle's studio," Rock's friend says. "Bob was home alone with the three kids."

The "Baywatch" babe confirmed that scenario in this month's Blender, which quotes her as saying, "When I go to Hollywood, I start at the Chateau Marmont and then I usually end up naked in David LaChapelle's studio taking crazy pictures. That's usually a night for me. Four or five in the morning, lying across a car in David's studio."

Kid Rock was also said to suspect that Anderson was less than truthful about the miscarriage she claims she had. "Bob never saw any proof or heard from her at any time that she was pregnant. She announced she had a miscarriage. He flew to Canada [where she's shooting "Blonde and Blonder"] to be with her and she went out every night."

As for marital assets, Rock's pal says, "Pamela doesn't have the money in the relationship - he does. She also refused to sign a pre-nup that he asked her to."

A rep for Anderson said, "There was an agreement there would be a post-nup, which was being negotiated up until they split. Pam is a wonderful mother, always there for her kids, and has only been to David's twice since she married. And unfortunately, she absolutely had a miscarriage and only found out she was pregnant a few days before."

An Anderson friend adds, "Every time Pam was shooting her movie, her mother came to watch the kids because Bob was in Detroit recording an album. He never once single-parented her kids."

I must say, this is quite a low blow. First she is a whore, now she is a whore who is unfit to raise her children. For shame, "pals" of Kid Rock. For shame! Pam Andersom may be a lot of things, but I've never heard even a breath of gossip that she was anything other than a doting, devoted mother. (Except that she should be sterilized if she even contemplates having more kids with Tommy Lee.)

At long last, have you finally so sense of decency, sirs?


Tuesday, November 28, 2006

Borat Ruins (Or Saves) Yet More Lives



As I predicted, the mud-slinging in the Pam Anderson/Kid Rock Dissolution of Sacred, Holy Nuptials has already begun. According to Page Six, the reason for the divorce is Mr. Anderson's reaction to his wife's role in the "Borat" movie, of course. Can (Canadian-)Americans do anything bad without it being Borat's fault?:
The final straw was a bellicose blowup Rock threw at Universal Studio chief Ron Meyer's Beverly Hills house two weeks ago.

"Ron Meyer held a screening of 'Borat' at his house for a bunch of people, including Pam and Bob," says an Anderson pal. "It was the first time Bob had seen the movie, and, well, he didn't like it."

The hugely popular film shows Sasha Baron Cohen - in character as Borat Sagdiyev - falling in love with Anderson after seeing her in a "Baywatch" rerun, then driving across America in order to propose marriage to her.

Her friend tells Page Six, "Bob started screaming at Pam, saying she had humiliated herself and telling her, 'You're nothing but a whore! You're a slut! How could you do that movie?' - in front of everyone. It was very embarrassing.

"Pam thought he could have a sense of humor about the movie. She was in on the gag from the very beginning and loved doing the movie. And on the eve of what was supposed to be a very positive thing, he made it an awful night.

"Ever since that night, it has been icicles between them," the friend relates. "Bob is just a very unhappy and angry man. Pam is very disenchanted and sad. You know, there are reasons why she never married him before. Those reasons disappeared while they were together on a boat in St. Tropez, but she knows now that they never went away. The reality is he is an insecure, angry man."


Wow. If this report from Pam's "friend" has even a teensy tiny grain of truth in it, I am certainly going to have re-evaluate my stance on Kid Rock and his niceness. And really, Kid, did you not realize how slutty your wife was before the "Borat" movie? She has the most famous fake boobs in the world! You can't blame her for being her. She's just as God and an army of plastic surgeons made her. Can you fault a sillicone-enhanced butterfly for flapping its beautiful wings? Well, maybe you can, but it's not very realistic.



I wonder what "pal" of Kid is going to come forward now with tales of blow-ups by Miss Pamela? Maybe they'll say she went nuts after seeing Mr. Rock's appearance as a "rock star" /murder suspect on "CSI: NY" and shrieked to everyone within earshot that the show revealed his true self to her at last, and it turns out he's nothing but an "unattractive trashy ersatz southern rocker from Detroit!" This could get ugly! Huzzah!


Monday, November 27, 2006

And They Said It Wouldn't Last

Hard as it is to believe, it seems that yet another Golden Couple of Camelot is calling it quits, as Pamela Anderson and Kid Rock have filed for divorce. Say it ain't so! From CNN:
Pamela Anderson and Kid Rock each filed divorce papers Monday seeking to end their marriage of less than four months.

Anderson's representative would not comment on the reason or any particulars of the divorce. Anderson and Rock, whose real name is Robert Ritchie, each cited "irreconcilable differences" in their divorce filings in Los Angeles County Superior Court.

"Yes, it's true," Anderson wrote in a brief statement on her Web site. "Unfortunately impossible."

A message left with Ritchie's attorney wasn't immediately returned.

The relationship between Anderson, 39, and Ritchie, 35, has been a turbulent one since they became engaged in 2002. They broke up the following year, but later reunited and held several wedding ceremonies over the summer.

They were wed in late July near St. Tropez, France, and again at a courthouse in Beverly Hills on August 3. They also tied the knot in an August 17 ceremony in Nashville, Tenn.

I wonder what was the final nail in the coffin? The miscarriage? His mom wearing fur to their holy, sacred nuptials? The fact that he is Kid Rock? (Although I am not, actually, a Kid Rock hater. He always seemed kind of sweet to me. Hideous, but sweet. At least he's not developmentally challenged/mildly retarded like Tommy Lee; but why these two dudes are her only options, I've never understood.) I'm sure more dirt will be forthcoming, so stay tuned!

Sunday, November 26, 2006

Marriage Is A Sacred Truss

Janet Charlton has a delightful tidbit about the faux TomKat nuptials:
Tom was wearing a GIRDLE under his tuxedo at his wedding! In case you haven't noticed, Tom packed on around twenty pounds in the past few months before the big event. He says he's a "nervous eater." And he's had a lot to be nervous about - his exit from Paramount and his high octane marriage. When Tom arrived in Rome, we hear that Giorgio Armani was apoplectic because the wedding tux was too small. Armani personally tended to all the fittings while Tom's pants were let out and various details were adjusted. Tom wanted to look svelte so he didn't protest when Giorgio suggested girdling Tom's midsection so the jacket would fall properly. The corset was sewn into Tom's undergarment. Everyone was sworn to secrecy, but those Armani employees love to gossip, and are we grateful for THAT!


Tee-hee! Between Tom's girdle, Katie's kneeling on a stepladder, the Spice Rack, and the entire Scientology ceremony, was there anything about that wedding based in reality?

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

They're Not Gay, But They Do Love The...



Whew! I'm still reeling from the incredible awesomeness of last night's surprise appearance by blous-a-palooza (and Felt Up fave rave) Brenda Vaccaro and the bitchfest she laid on Catherine Deneuve. Really, "Nip/Tuck," your commitment to resurrecting glamourous ladies of bygone eras and putting them in compromising positions on your show is to be commended! A tv program in 2006 featuring guest performances by Catherine Denueve, Brenda Vaccaro, and Jacqueline Bisset--all in the same episode? Unheard of--and oh, so heavenly! Bravo!

But back to business. On last night's "Nip/Tuck" there was:

One glamourous French lady played by (huzzah!) Catherine Deneuve, who asks the plastic surgeons to replace her current breast implants with ones that have been injected with the ashes of her late husband.

One supposedly nice surgeon, who would usually be the one to pooh-pooh such a suggestion, who is so upset over the recent departure of his wife and daughter that he finds the French lady's idea very "romantic."

One supposedly rat bastard surgeon who thinks the idea is too wacky to consider.

One supposedly nice surgeon who gets upset when told that the supposedly rat bastard surgeon and his boss lady/interracial lover have made the decision that they will not perform the ash implant surgery.

One supposedly rat bastard surgeon who tells the other surgeon that he should "see someone" to talk about the loss of his wife and child.

One scene of the supposedly rat bastard surgeon proposing marriage to his boss lady/interracial lover by putting a diamond ring in her champagne glass; she says she "wants to say yes," but is worried that he is not thinking through what kind of commitment marriage really means; she also demands that he sell his incredibly gay-decorated condo/sexual playground.

One supposedly nice surgeon who sees "someone," all right--crazy Dr. Brooke Shields, licensed therapist/diagnosed sexual compulsive/potential stalker!

One scene of crazy Dr. Brooke Shields, who is so enraged at the news that her potential stalkee, the supposedly rat bastard surgeon, has gotten engaged to his boss lady, that she tells the supposedly nice surgeon that his partner came to her for help because of his homosexual feelings for the supposedly nice surgeon and that the only way he can regain a sense of control over his life is to perform the dead husband ash breast implant operation on M. Deneuve.

One scene of the supposedly nice surgeon about to operate on M. Deneuve, while a nonplussed supposedly rat bastard surgeon asks what the hell is going on.

One scene of the supposedly rat bastard surgeon showing his condo to fellow metrosexual horndog/plastic surgeon/bare-ass shower-offer Dr. Mario Lopez, who clearly wants to emulate his hero by buying the condo; his hero keeps seeing The Ghosts of Sexual Partners Past, including Kimber, his former fiancee/former porn star/current daughter-in-law, blind Natasha (Rebecca Gayheart), and Abby Mays (Rebecca Metz), the one who had to wear a bag over her face while getting sexed by the supposedly rat bastard surgeon while he was in full rat bastard mode.

One scene of the newly-engaged boss lady entering her office to find Madame Jacqueline Bissett, who demands the use of the surgery three nights a week for her organ-theft ring; the boss lady refuses and slaps her hard across the face.

One scene of the supposedly rat bastard surgeon telling the supposedly nice surgeon that he's having doubts about marrying the boss lady, which leads to the supposedly nice surgeon reavealing that Dr. Brooke Shields has told him all about the supposedly rat bastard surgeon's gay feelings for him, and that he shouldn't worry, because they are brothers and he still loves him, just not in that way.

One supposedly rat bastard surgeon who denies he is gay and says "Is it my eyebrows? If I don't wax, I get this unibrow thing, and it gets ugly. Just because I groom 'em doesn't mean I've gone 'Brokeback'," which is a funny line, even though I'm getting rather bored with the the whole "Brokeback Mountain"-as-shorthand-for-all-things-gay thing.

One scene of the supposedly rat bastard surgeon confronting crazy Dr. Brooke Shields in her office; he brings in the supposedly nice surgeon, whom he tells all about Dr. Brook's diagnosed sexual compulsion, and how he bent her over the desk, and how she had a tattoo on her lower back removed that said "Property of Marco"; when she protests, he bends her over the desk and lifts up her jacket and blouse to reaveal...the "Property of Dr. Christian Troy" tattoo that she had (very painfully) put over the place where the old one had been.

One scene of M. Deneuve, whose post-operation recovery is violently and hilariously interrupted by Brenda Vaccaro, whose husband's ashes are inside M. Deneuve's boobs; it turns out M. Deneuve was the late Victor's mistress, not his wife; look out! Vaccaro is on a rampage!

One scene of the supposedly rat bastard surgeon entering his office to find Madame Jacqueline Bissett, whose face is a terrible black-and-blue pulp; apparently the hot Asian gangsters roughed her up so that she would speed up the organ thieving ASAP.

One supposedly rat bastard surgeon agreeing to perform plastic surgery on Madame Jacqueline Bisset's face.

One boss lady/fiancee who, while scantily-clad and leaning seductively on the supposedly rat bastard's bed, is not amused to discover he just operated on her blackmailer/former pimp; she storms out; the marriage is in jeopardy!

One contrite supposedly nice surgeon, who tells the supposedly rat bastard surgeon that they are under court order to remove the dead husband's ashes from M. Deneuve and return them to the Widow Vaccaro.

One scene of the boss lady coming into the surgery at night to find Madame Jacqueline Bisset and her Slavic prostitute/amateur surgeon removing the kidney of some poor schmuck on the operating table while a creepy version of "Que Sera Sera" plays in the background.

One supposedly nice surgeon coming into the surgery the next day to apologize to his boss lady (who is frantically cleaning) about being a dick, welcome her to the family, and have a nice hug; the camera pulls away to show some leftover blood from the organ theft the night before.

One supposedly rat bastard surgeon packing up the condo! The marriage is back on! But he has one last look at The Ghosts of Sexual Partners Past and tells them "it's been swell."

One supposedly nice surgeon handing over a box of ashes to the Widow Vaccaro, who then gleefully runs around the office trying to find a toilet to flush down the remains; she finally dumps them in a sink and says they will be food for the fishes; apparently neither the Widow Vaccaro nor her attorney thinks to have the ashes authenticated by a lab.

One supposedly nice surgeon in a recovery room with M. Deneuve; he reveals that he actually gave the Widow Vaccaro some of M. Deneuve's old cigarette ashes and hands the real ashes to a tearful M. Deneuve, who thanks the surgeon by giving him a nice, lingering kiss on the mouth. (Which means actor Dylan Walsh is the luckiest man on American television!) Quelle romantique!

One series of previews indicating that next week's episode is entirely about the supposedly nice surgeon's drunken escapades duing the holidays!

One blogette agog at the genius of this show!

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

My Girl Wants To Barfy All The Time, Barfy All The Time

Jeannette Walls'"Scoop" column has this hilarious story about Paris "P-Hole" Hilton being her usual classy, alluring self:
To paraphrase Paris Hilton: that’s not hot.

The partying heiress was performing in Las Vegas, when she “puked” on stage, according to crooner Joshua Radin.

Radin was visiting Vegas with the cast of “Scrubs” and went to a nightclub to hear Jay-Z perform.

“Paris Hilton …was sitting next to me the whole night. Seriously, next to me, like our legs were touching for a good 5 hours,” Radin wrote on his MySpace site. “Now don’t get the wrong idea. She never once said hello, nor even looked in my direction. Five hours. And it was unreal to watch. She must have pulled a compact out of her bag every 6 minutes to stare at herself and pose while Jay-Z was performing 18 inches from us.”

When Jay-Z left the stage, according to Radin, it was Hilton’s moment. “Paris, who had been swilling straight vodka from [a] Grey Goose bottle for hours, gets up on stage, has the people in charge throw her ‘record’ on the house stereo for her to lip sync two of her songs,” writes Radin. “She gets up on the stage, pukes, leaves. . . I find the music business charming.”


I think the main thing that this Joshua Radin fellow (do the kids like him? who the hell is he? I'm old!) ought to do now is scrub his leg in lye for about 24 hours and then take a nice, long "Silkwood"-style shower. No telling what kind of mangy vermin he contracted from prolongued contact with P. Hole's leg...

Also, did Jay-Z actually allow P-Hole to follow him onstage or did she just fling herself up there uninvited? If he let her puke on his stage and didn't have some member of his posse find her afterwards, put her in a chokehold, taser her for a few minutes in the solar plexus, and force her face down in the puke puddle until she learned what bad, bad girld she had been, I fear that Jay will have lost some of his street cred, at least around Felt Up HQ, which, believe you me, is an area famous for its stringent requirements for hip-hop credibility.

Walls also has this little tidbit involving--as all good stories do--Clay Aiken, Emmet Smith, and Kelly Ripa:
Clay Aiken fans are buzzing about their idol’s awkward moment with Kelly Ripa. The crooner was guest-hosting “Live with Regis and Kelly” last week when, during an interview with Emmet Smith he jokingly put his hand over the chatty Ripa’s mouth. Ripa was not amused. “You don’t do that,” Ripa said through a fixed smile. “I don’t know where that hand’s been.”

Well, actually, Kelly, I think you doknow where that hand has been, and here's the photographic proof, obtained exclusively by Felt Up (that's Clay's hand on the bottom right):



Come on, Kelly, we all know that's what you meant and that you were afraid that you might have some gay rubbed off on your face. Or else you really, really don't like it when people try (and fail) to muzzle you. Oh, and Kelly? While I've got your attention an all, could you please for the love of god just SHUT UP. AND STOP WITH THOSE ANNOYING TIDE LAUNDRY PEN COMMERCIALS THAT MAKE FUN OF HOW ANNOYING YOU ARE. THEY ARE DRIVING A NATION--AND A BLOGETTE--TO DRINK.

UPDATE:
Gawker is now reporting that after Rosie O'Donnell accused Kelly Ripa of homophobia, Kelly called into "The View" to defend herself. Gawker posted a "Best of Handgate" on YouTube, and if you'd like to giggle at the inanity of it all, go here and watch.

And, finally, Us Weekly has the shocking--shocking!--news that J. Lo acted in a somewhat a
diva-like manner at the TomKat faux nuptials:

Katie Holmes was the one getting married on Saturday, but who was
the biggest diva of the weekend? Jennifer Lopez!

Tom Cruise and Holmes kindly arranged for a private plane to bring some of their more famous friends to Italy for their wedding. But a source tells Us Weekly that, hours before Jada Pinkett Smith, Leah Remini and Jerry Maguire director Cameron Crowe boarded the chartered 757 to Rome, “Jennifer Lopez sent her assistant to secure seats by laying her belongings on all the best seats!”

Lopez also flew her hairstylist, Ken Pav├ęs, into Rome and set him up at the posh Hotel Hassler to do her hair for the big day.

Meanwhile, it’s supposed to be the bride’s special weekend, but the singer made sure that all eyes were on her at a group dinner at the restaurant Nino on Thursday night. Says a source, “The November 16 welcome dinner was supposed to be casual. But J.Lo, of course, wore a gown. So much for casual.”

And the special treatment didn’t stop there. At 2:33 a.m. in the wee hours after the wedding, Lopez, 37, had a waiter sneak two doggie bags to her and husband Marc Anthony, 38, as they were on their way to the airport to return to the States.



Uh, hello, Us Weekly, what the hell did you expect? SHE IS J. LO. THIS IS WHAT SHE DOES. I could see being startled if say, Dame Judi Dench started throwing her weight around, arriving at a casual dinner dressed in a Versace safety-pin dress a la Liz Hurley, sending underlings to throw mink throw rugs across the choices seats abord the Moet & Chandon-sponsored private jet called The Champers, while fresh puppies and kittens frolicked at her feet and Tom Jones performed a private serendade of "What's New, Pussycat?" on his hands and knees and fed her bon-bons. That might be suprising. But this is simply Standard Operating Procedure for La Lo. And really, y que?

But the best part of this article is the list of comments that readers left after being
prompted with the question: "Was J.Lo being too much of a diva? "

Here is a random sampling:

11:03 AM
Anonymous Says:

Jlo is a bitch she is so full of herself and her husband he is so AGLY. She is also serial cheater.She cheated in her all former realtion ships.

Anonymous Says:

ya white bitches are jealous because us latinas have big asses and you dont . that is why ya men are looking forus latinas

2:08 PM ; Anonymous Says:
JLO shoulda packed a dryer so her husband could dry his hair when he came out of the shower. YUCK!!

Ah, the voice of The People--let it ring out, proud and noble! And, perhaps, wise beyond its years...



Monday, November 20, 2006

There's Nothing Like A Sham Marriage To Set The World's Toes A' Tappin'



Jeez, man. You leave town for a few days and all gossip hell breaks loose! Let's see, since Wednesday:

A holy, sacred faux TomKat All Scientologist/All Armani wedding ceremony was held in Italy and it ended in a never-ending kiss that may cause Felt Up's very own never-ending barf.



Either Katie has undergone a traditional Scientology pre-wedding leg-shortening operation, or Tom's cuban heels are doing wonders!

Also, it turns out that Chris Klein's baby may have every parent's nightmare--the dreaded birthmark. Oh, the humanity!

Michael "Kramer" Richards screamed racial epithets at two black men in the audience at his stand-up performance, which was conveniently all caught on tape. Not that there's anything wrong with th--oh, wait. Crap. I just hate it when "Seinfeld" lines don't work perfectly in every single situation life has to offer, don't you?

Britney Spears made yet another in a series of smart, tasteful decisions about the men in her life.

Pete Doherty was arrested with a white-dreadlocked "colleague" for yet another in a series of smart, tasteful decisions about the drugs in his life.

Last, and definitely least, Lindsay Lohan once again made the world her gynecologist and/or Waxing Appreciation Society by showing off her naked hoo-ha (NSFW and NSAE --Not Safe After Eating).

Whew! I need a vacation--or at least a long, scalding hot shower!

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Two, Two, TWO Re-Hashes In ONE!


Yes, I have been a tad remiss in my re-hashing duties, but I had very important business to attend to last Tuesday at a bar and I didn't see that particular episode until recently. All right?

And while we are on the subject of my remissness, I will be out of town on a fact-finding mission to the cradle of American liberty, Philadelphia, PA, for the rest of this week, and will be far too busy exploring American democracy in all its many glories--especiallay as it exists at The King Of Prussia Mall (The Second Largest Mall In America!), using my freedoms to seek out the fancy Forever 21 megastore XXi and the Ikea of Clothing, H&M--to be able to blog. I'm also pretty sure they don't have the interweb in Philly. So most likely no new posts until Monday, Nov. 20. But I shall return! Don't cry for me, Argentina! You know I've never left you. All through my wild days, my mad existence, I kept my promise, don't keep your distance.

Where was I? Oh, yes, two very special episodes of "Nip/Tuck." Dude, the one from last week walked a very fine line between genius and madness. And came out the other end of a re-treaded anus smelling like GENIUS. So. In summary, on last week's episode of "Nip/Tuck" there was:

One re-appearance of the drug-addicted ne'er do well surgeon, Dr. Merrill Bobolit, whose proclamation that he had been in prison for a year and a half prompted yours truly to shriek "anal reconstruction! anal reconstruction!" at the screen and then pump my fists in triumph when he did, indeed, demand an "anal re-tread" surgery following 36 months of near-constant anal rape. I so called it.

One revelation that Bobolit got married in prison and had his husband's name branded on his ass. (Perhaps Dr. Brooke Shields should go to prison--sounds like her kinda good times!)

One showing-off of Bobolit's ass, which shows his prison husband was scary/psychotic/delightful Escobar!

One flashback showing the plastic surgeons remaking Escobar's face so that he won't be recognized as the FBI's number one Most Wanted, but instead oh-so-smartly making his face look just like the number four Most Wanted, a child molester.

ZERO explanation of why the U.S. justice system never got around to taking Escobar's fingerprints. Sigh.

One scene of Bobolit explaining that he is delivering a message from his husband: Since being a child molester is the lowest form of scum (just under snitch, which is what Bobolit was, hence the anal re-tread), some prisoners lit Escobar's face on fire and now he wants the surgeons to fix it.

One threat of blackmail by exposing the surgeons' complicity in feeding the dead body of one Silvio Perez to alligators during a previous episode.

One set of plastic surgeons visiting Escobar in prison, where he tells them he wants his old face back.

One supposedly nice surgeon carefully removing the bandages from Escobar's face, which switches back and forth from gooey char to Fantasy Escobar in the supposedly nice surgeon's mind.

One exposition from Escobar that he will be allowed to have his surgery at the surgeons' office because he supplies heroin to the warden.

One anal-retread surgery performed to "How Deep Is Your Love" by The Bee Gees.
(By the way, I found out via a TV Guide "Nip/Tuck" blog that the brilliant music supervisor who should win some kind of special Emmy for "Outstanding Achievement in Awesomeness," is named P.J. Bloom. Bravo, Mr. or Ms. Bloom! Bravo!)

One supposedly rat bastard surgeon taking out his former fiancee/porn star/daughter-in-law's breast implants; while in there, he secretly (and quite illegally) takes some blood from her uterus so he can test her fetus' DNA.

One supposedly rat bastard surgeon finding out the fetus is his grandchild, not his child. The poor baby must now grow up with the creepy Michael Jackson lookalike as his dad.

One supposedly nice surgeon confronting super-hot male little person night nurse about his relationship with the surgeon's wife.

One supposedly nice surgeon obviously wanting to punch the super-hot male little person night nurse, who steps up on a ladder to make it "easier" for the surgeon.

One supposedly nice surgeon sneering, "I painted over your mural" instead of punching the super-hot male little person night nurse.

One supposedly nice surgeon confronting his wife about the super-hot male little person night nurse; the wife, unlike the night nurse, admits that they had an affair.

One supposedly nice surgeon outraged--outraged!--at his wife's infidelity, while conveniently forgetting to mention that he banged the former, not-hot full-sized female night nurse/potential stalker who got run over by a bus.

One surgery on Escobar, whose face is quite remarkably (and impossibly, I think) returned to its former scary glory.

One Dr. Bobolit coming in to assist in the surgery, who then tries and fails to murder Escobar for being his husband. Oh, Bobolit. So many wives have the same dream!

One lecture from Escobar to the supposedly nice surgeon that he has to tell his wife about the affair because a man's honor is tied to his truth-telling, or something. Did you tell the truth to Mrs. Escobar while you were raping him in prison, Escboar? Oh, all right. I'm sure you did.

One hysterical scene of creepy Michael Jackson's wife getting some kind of pregnancy help from a female Scientologist; one extremely bitchy wife chastising him for getting her regular water instead of fizzy water; one to-die-for moment when creepy Michael Jackson doesn't know who Kelly Preston is.

One scene of fed-to-the-alligator-guy's brother pretending to be a nurse for Escobar.

One scene of the supposedly rat bastard surgeon finding a recovery room filled with tons of dead prison guards and empty of Escobar.

One scene of the supposedly nice surgeon thinking he's seeing Fantasy Escobar in his living room, then realizing it's Real Escobar, who tells him that "the truth will set you free" and mentioning that he has taken care of the hold he had over the surgeons.

One remarkably calm supposedly nice surgeon discovering the body of fed-to-the-alligator-guy's brother, who has been shot dead in the surgeon's house.

One remarkably calm wife of the supposedly nice surgeon hearing her husband call the police to report a murder.

One supposedly nice surgeon responding to his wife's remarkably calm query about what is going on with the news that he had an affair with the not-hot full-sized female night nurse/potential stalker/bus accident victim

Zero follow-up from wife about murdered dead body in her home.

One million questions from a perplexed blogette...none of which will be answered on the next episode of "Nip/Tuck," because on this one there was:

One scene of the future in 20 years, when uni-lobster clawed Connor McNamara interviews with a therapist just before having surgery to correct his lobster claw.

One hysterical scene of the main cast members in old-age make-up, with a particularly resplendent supposedly rat bastard surgeon with two "Addicted To Love" video rejects on his arm, meeting in a futuristic restaurant that serves little piles of foam food.

One truly wonderful appearance by Jan Brady from the "Brady Bunch" movies as the adult Annie, the put-upon daughter of the supposedly nice surgeon and his wife; Annie is so jealous of the attention Connor has gotten for his lobster claw that she "acts out" with drug addictions, imagined illnesses, eating disorders, and all kinds of silly and funny eye-rolling, lips-pursed facial expressions. Brilliant!

One revelation that the creepy Michael Jackson son is now a plastic surgeon and looks much better with fake old age make-up than he does without it.

One series of "flashbacks" to the present time, showing a hurricane bearing down on Miami, the dumping of super-hot male little person night nurse by clearly unhinged wife of supposedly nice plastic surgeon, further estrangement of lil' Annie, complete meltdown of supposedly nice plastic surgeon when he realizes his marriage is finally over, one tearful goodbye said to uni-lobster-clawed baby Connor by super-hot male little person night nurse, the exit of wife from the show (supposedly actress Joely Richardson is leaving to deal with an illness in her family, but maybe she'll be back for guest appearances?).

One scene of faux-aged, still super-hot male little person former night nurse in the future, bonding further with Connor, who stayed in his life. Awww!

One hysterical scene of supposedly nice surgeon congratulating super-hot male little person on his son's professional baseball accomplishments. Oh, such exquisite irony!

One scene of Connor discussing the fact that he chose his brother, creepy Michael Jackson, to perform his lobster claw-ectomy instead of his father.

One scene of Connor asking his father to assist in the surgery.

One lobster claw-ectomy performed.

One arrest of Annie for stealing drugs from hospital.

One confrontation between Annie and her parents, which leads to healing and new beginnings.

One family finally reunited, albeit in funny wigs.

One series of previews indicating guest star Catherine Deneuve (OMG!) is going to demand her dead husband's ashes be injected into her breasts, the reappearance of deranged Dr. Brooke Shields (huzzah!), and the possible engagement between boss lady/interracial lover and the supposedly rat bastard surgeon!

One blogette glad to get back to the show being set in the present, which is filled to capacity with aging, gorgeous, glamorous dames from around the globe!

Thursday, November 09, 2006

Wild Thing

You just know that any gossip story that includes the phrases "bizarre incident," "the Mounties were summoned," and "a senior citizen [was] slightly injured" is going to be good, so Felt Up is proud to relay this report from People:
Denise Richards was involved in a bizarre incident with paparazzi Wednesday on the Canadian set of her new movie Blonde and Blonder, where laptop computers were hurled and a senior citizen slightly injured, a spokesman for the Royal Canadian Mounted Police tells PEOPLE.

The Mounties were summoned to the movie location at the River Rock Casino Resort in Richmond, British Columbia, a suburb of Vancouver, after Richards took issue with the presence of two unauthorized photographers on the set, said Cpl. Peter Thiessen, a media relations officer for the Richmond Royal Canadian Mounted Police.

The actress approached the photographers and threw their laptops off the balcony of the hotel, said Thiessen, adding that a computer "struck an 80-year-old women in a wheelchair. It struck her in the arm. She was not interested in pursuing criminal charges and suffered only minor injuries."

Police interviewed both Richards and her costar, Pamela Anderson, about the incident, and the movie production company agreed to pay for the damages to the photographers' computers, according to Thiessen.

As of yet, no charges are being filed. Howard Blank, a representative of the Blonde and Blonder production, said, "No one was seriously injured in any way." He said the events were "getting blown way out of proportion."

Blank added, "As a precaution first aid was called. An ambulance was called, which is also routine. No one was transferred to the hospital at all. Everything is fine."

Richards and cast members were "very upset" about the incident, Blank said, and after filming was halted for an hour it then resumed and continued until 8 in the evening.

Heh. I'm beginning to think that Denise Richards may be more than slightly mad--and not just for marrying and having children with Charlie Sheen. I mean, is this kind of laptop-throwing-onto-old-people-type behavior really a good idea for someone desperately trying to weasel her way back into the public's good graces after brazenly stealing Richie Sambora away from America's Senior Sweetheart, Heather Locklear, her former best friend? Her publicists are probably twisting their heads like Linda Blair in "The Exoricst," trying to spin this story into something not too damaging for their client.

On a related, if somewhat personal, note, I was never that impressed with Ms. Richards' so-called "beauty." She always had a cheap look to me, like she might have ended up in porn if she hadn't lucked into a regular movie career. Plus she is obviously becoming increasingly deranged, and crazy has a way of sucking the pretty right out of a face. I wonder if Charlie Sheen was really as horrible as she said in her divorce filing, or if she is just out of her tiny mind? Perhaps a bit of both, I guesss. Perhaps a bit of both...



Wheelchair riders, beware! Denise Richards is on the loose!

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

The Results Are In!

Everyone who is anyone is already referring to Kevin Federline by his new nickname, "Fed-Ex."

That is all.

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

If Britney Can Take A Stand So Can You...

...So for the love of Federline, get out there and VOTE!

THE END OF CAMELOT (Again)

Yes, BELIEVE IT OR NOT, Britney Spears has filed for divorce from Kevin "K-Fed" Federline! TMZ reports that the divorce papers site "irreconcilable differences" (AKA "irrevocable career damage" and "alarming trashiness") as the main cause:
In her petition, Spears asks for both legal and physical custody of the couple's two children, one-year old Sean Preston and two-month old Jayden James, with Federline getting reasonable visitation rights.

As for money, sources tell TMZ the couple, who married in Oct. 2004, has an iron-clad prenup. Not surprisingly, Spears is waiving her right to spousal support. She's also asking the judge to make each party pay their own attorney's fees.

Oh, the humanity! Why, it seems like just yesterday that Britney was sashaying her new "Mended Like Beckham" hyper-liposuctioned physique on the David Letterman show...oh, wait. That was just yesterday. Huh.

I bet she thinks of these last few years of her life as a long, strange, very expensive nightmare. At least she finally came to her senses. Huzzah for Britney!

K-Fed, you are going to have to do a lot of rappin' and backup dancin' to pay child support for four children. Get thee to a vasectomy, and pronto!

The one person (besides K-Fed) who is probably less than thrilled with this development? Ms. Cameron Diaz, that's who. Watch your back, Cam! Britney didn't undergo hours of painful fatsucking just for her "career." She's going to be coming after JT next, just you wait! She's on a roll and she's got a bit of the crazy eye, so be careful. Check in the backseat of your car when you get in it, prod the bushes with a stick every now and then, and eat some carbs. You're going to need them when you're wrasslin' with Brit over your mans!

Now, Why Didn't YOU Think Of That?

Friends of Felt Up know all about her love and admiration for cable tv domestic goddess, Miss Brini Maxwell. Brini had a wonderful retro-chic design, cooking, and entertainment cable tv show called, you guessed it, "The Brini Maxwell Show," which for some reason was yanked from the air after only one season. Oh, how Felt Up wept without her weekly dose of the faintly snarky (there was a Helpful Hint segment each week called "Now, Why Didn't YOU Think of That?")--but always ladylike--Brini and her guidance on the fine art of gracious living! Oh, the bitter tears that were shed when they took glamorous, multi-wigged, flirty-with-firemen Brini away! Brini! BRINI! BRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINI!

So imagine Felt Up's joy when her favorite gossip columnist Janet Charlton had a piece on her site yesterday on "What Ever Happened To Brini Maxwell?" Can't you just hear all the "HUZZAHS" that were shouted around Felt Up HQ? It seems that Brini has a podcast on NPR now (!) and her website has vidcasts of her original NYC cable access show, plus all the episodes of "The Brini Maxwell Show," and all kinds of recipes, hints, tips, and delightful tidbits. And if, like Felt Up, you can't get enough Brini, visit her on MySpace here. Put some style in your life the Brini way!



BRIIIIIIIIIIIINI!

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Some Things Get Hotter The Longer You Wait For Them. Just Like The...



On the last episode of "Nip/Tuck" there was:

One formerly "love yourself as you are"-proclaiming lesbian anesthesiologist, Liz, demanding liposuction and a wee face lift from an incredulous pair of plastic surgeons, because she wants to please her new girlfriend, Poppy, who is also an anesthesiologist.

One organ-theft ringleader/madam, played by Jacqueline Bisset, peeved at having to get her own gas at a fancy gas station in the middle of the night.

One Madam Jacqueline getting accosted by two hot, French-speaking Asian gangsters, who pour gasoline all over her designer belted trench-y coat and threaten to burn her to a crisp if she doesn't come up with another kidney to meet their "quota" tres rapidement.

One meeting between the lesbian anesthesiologist girlfriends (one of whom, Poppy, is played by Alanis Morissette) and the supposedly-nice surgeon, who worries that all the Poppy-planned 5K runs, extensive plastic surgery, and prolonged contact with the person who sang "Ironic" might be too much for Liz in her post-kidney-theft-and-organ-transplant recovery.

One incredibly unlikable Alanis Morissette giving the supposedly-nice surgeon a "love Liz as she is, but help her to be the best she can be" speech.

One super-hot male little person night nurse (Peter Dinklage!) being told he can take the night off from caring for the uni-lobster-clawed baby by the supposedly nice surgeon, who also insanely encourages his wife to go see a movie with the incredibly hot male little person night nurse, as he is unaware of their super-hot makeout session from last week!

One scene of the super-hot male little person night nurse and his boss lady/adulterous love interest in line for an arty movie; his boss lady is distracted and uncomfortable and the super-hot male little person night nurse mistakes her behavior for hyper-sensitivity to his little person status now that they are out in public.

One scene of the super-hot male little person night nurse asking his boss, the supposedly nice surgeon, for an excruciatingly painful length-lengthening procedure so that he can seduce the supposedly nice surgeon's wife from a higher altitude.

One scene of plastic surgery on Liz, while her beyotch girlfriend Alanis Morissette makes insulting and demeaning comments about Liz's physique in front of the two surgeons, and then asks them to do more extensive surgery than Liz had asked for, which they refuse--all while Billy Joel's "I Love You Just The Way You Are" plays in the background. (I hereby nominate the "Nip/Tuck" music picker for a special Emmy Award for his or her brilliant surgery theme music on this show! Bravo/a!)

One supposedly rat bastard surgeon calling Madam Jacqueline Bisset for a high-class call girl to take his mind off his boss lady/ex-adulterous interracial lover/organ thief.

One scene of Madam Jacqueline Bisset arriving instead of one of her girls at the gay apartment of the supposedly rat bastard surgeon; a flurry of awesome seduction lines from Madam Jacqueline ensues, including: "Not every man can appreciate the experience of a finely-aged single malt" and "Some things get hotter the longer you wait for them."

One supposedly rat bastard surgeon keeling over, drugged by Madam Jacqueline, who then calls in his boss lady/ex-adulterous interracial lover/organ thief and demands that she either take out both of his kidneys (which would, of course, kill him) or come up with someone else's kidney within 24 hours.

One scene of Madam Jacqueline Bisset opening her car to find it full of gross, disgusting medical waste (mainly post-lipo fat), which comes gushing out.

One supposedly rat bastard surgeon confronting Madam Jacqueline about her drugging him --although he never really tries to figure out why she did it--and Madam Jacqueline offering him a freebie night with one of her call girls as a "peace offering."

One boss lady/organ thief coming home to the mansion she shares with her husband/fake ball-wearer/stroke victim (Larry Hagman) and being told by the departing nurse that Larry isn't doing so well and needs his medication pronto.

One boss lady/organ thief entering her husband/fake ball-wearer/stroke victim's bedroom without the tray of medication and seeing him in obvious distress, which she exacerbates by telling him that her love for him died the day he forced her to have sex with the supposed rat bastard surgeon in front of him (at the urging of deranged sex addict/masochist/licensed therapist Dr. Brooke Shields, unbeknownst to the wife); she refuses to give him his meds.

One scene of the rat bastard surgeon engaging with some heavy petting with a be-lingeried prostitute in his gay apartment.

One scene of a gasping/dying Larry Hagman crawling on his belly, trying to get to the medicine that is downstairs.

One dead Larry Hagman.

One scene of the supposedly rat bastard surgeon leaving his still be-lingeried hooker so he can powder his nose.

One widow/ex-adulterous interracial lover/organ thief wielding a razor-blade over the kidney-region of her dead husband, who is still collapsed on the staircase.

One be-lingeried call girl/organ thief putting a razor blade into her mouth just before she receives a text message from Madam Jacqueline Bisset that says "ABORT."

One scene of a post-op recovering Liz being told by the supposedly nice surgeon that her girlfriend Alanis Morissette made some disparaging remarks about her during the operation, but he stops short of telling her what a total awful beyotch she is, just before Alanis walks in.

One supposedly nice plastic surgeon gleefully telling his wife that the super-hot male little person night nurse is a hypocrite, because although he was strenuously against the de-lobster-clawing of their baby, he came in asking for leg-lengthening surgery for the lady he loves, even though the procedure is horribly painful.

One wife/boss lady/adulterous love interest of super-hot male little person night nurse asking her supposedly nice husband, "Isn't that just what we're doing to Connor (the uni-lobster-clawed baby)?"--since the lobster-claw-ectomy involves a similarly painful turning of bone screws--just before she heads over to her super-hot male little person night nurse's art studio/apartment.

One super-hot male little person night nurse in a black wifebeater (!) painting.

One scene of the super-hot male little person night nurse in a post-coital in-bed embrace with his boss lady/adulterous lover--thus denying eager viewers the sex scene involving the super-hot male little person night nurse we had been looking forward to all season! Boo, hiss!

One scene of the supposedly nice surgeon at home when his wife arrives home from her tryst with the super-hot male little person night nurse; she tells him truthfully where she was and that she needs a shower, without fully disclosing what happened, but the supposedly-nice surgeon's suspicions are aroused.

One more entire episode free of the creepy son/Michael Jackson lookalike!

One set of previews indicating that the ex-porn star/fiancee of the supposedly rat bastard surgeon/Scientologist is pregnant--with the creepy Michael Jackson-lookalike son's baby or maybe the supposedly rat bastard surgeon's!

One blogette agog with delight!