 Just so you know, I like shopping at Target. They don't carry couture or 10 carat diamonds but I don't care. The pull of the big red bullseye lures me in every time. It's been this wierd obsession for a while now. Ever since I lived in New Jersey, I would drive the forty minutes to the nearest bullseye which happened to be Palisades Center Mall in New York state where Rosie O'Donnell shopped. We bumped into each other a few times. Anyway, imagine my delight when I found a site devoted to all things Le Target! I wrote a little ode to Target and the wonderful people over there put it up. If you want to read it, click here: slavetotarget and be sure to leave some comments so we know we aren't alone in our Target love.
 Awwww. Just friends? Brad and Angie, call me. I haven't heard from you in a while. It's so rough traveling via private jet over to Europe. I have a box of hair dye with Brad's name on it and I'm anxious to try it out. I've got my plastic gloves and highlighting cap ready. Angie, don't hit me up for babysitting again- Maddox is cute but quite the handful. When you return from England, let's meet for drinks at your hotel. Love ya!
Paris loves her new ring. Not because its big. Not because its expensive. Not because her boyfriend gave it to her. Because she can see her reflection in it! Duh! Like, it actually weighs her finger down and makes it difficult to dial her crystal studded cell phone with. And it's been really hard to find a ginormous diamond ring that fits Tinkerbell's paw. I see a market for doggie jewelry. Believe it or not, Jennifer Lopez is going to be designing dog accessories, but I digress. Paris's ring, it's over rated- wait, that's what they said about her porn video! And its really big. Thats what they said about her- oops!
 Hello? Is it a hamburger you're looking for? I can see it in your stomach, I can see it in your abs and I'd like to tell you..you need food. Please sing it to the tune of the Lionel Richie song, "Hello" and I think we have a number 1 hit on our hands. If Nicole attributes her weight loss to exercise, then where are her muscles? Nicole, don't pee on my back and tell me its raining. You're doing colon blow and getting colonic irrigations every day, I can tell because I see your inner organs. I see you digesting that vanilla creme right now. Sugar, go eat some Twinkies fried in lard. Stop hanging with Lindsay Blowhan. Your heart cannot take the strain of not eating. Someone is going to drop dead of a anorexia/blow related heart attack and ewwwww, that's not tres chic. We fashionistas need some curves for those cute clothes to cling to.
 Mischa Barton is in France filming The Decameron. Or as I like to call it, The DeCameron Diaz. Her greasy, oily, mutton- chopped boyfriend with the fat pockets came to visit her and she decided the two should buy a chateau and live in France. They are going to stomp on grapes with their feet and make wine and hang out with Johnny Depp and be all French and sexy now. Although Mischa has a very long torso, I'm happy to see her body isn't perfect and her boobs aren't two huge, fake orbs. Now that I've made that clear, I would like a first class, round trip ticket to Paris where I would be content to sit at a sidewalk cafe and drink coffee in a china cup and smoke cigarettes and be mysterious and glamorous. Brandon? Wire me the money please. And then I won't talk about the "package" you had me "drop off" at a public "location" in a briefcase. I know you are dealing "art" and yes, my silence can be bought.
 I love King of Queens and always thought Leah Remini was so sassy and fun. She is someone I could go see a movie with, throw back some vodkatinis, maybe gossip a bit and share that salty and sarcastic humor we have in common. We also have New York accents even though I'm from New Jersey. We both love buttered popcorn and baked goods. What more do you need to build a foundation of friendship on? Then I learned she was a Scientologist and that she wanted to suck my innards out and plant a microchip in my colon while counting engrams and thetans. She wanted to pump me for information about the wog world I inhabit. It scared me and I had to sleep under my bed with a flashlight for fear Leah was going to come for me with a butt plug and an emeter and force feed me wierd stuff until I agreed to see her leader. I took back everything I ever said about her and decided we could not be friends. When she lobbied to change the name from King of Queens to King of Xenu, I literally had to run for my life.
 Jessica wears a serpentine printed strapless gown out to dinner with her friend, Cacee. I believe the name should be spelled Casey or KC. Cacee is spelled very close to Caca which is a really bad name. Enough of her, lets talk about the hideous dress Jess is wearing. I think it was a tablecloth from a Chinese food restaurant that has been stapled together and fashioned into a gown. Very clever, yet very ugly. Because she is top-heavy, I'm worried she might tumble over head first with nothing but two silicome implants to break her fall. Good thing she has Caca there to help her up.
 Kev Federline is what I like to call a Star by Proxy. Like how my friends just assume they are A-listers since I'm such a big star. They drop my name at the Polo Lounge and try to get into Spider Club by mentioning Distressed Jeans and no matter how many times I tell them not to do it, it's like they all have entitlement issues. K. Fed feels the same way. Because he is married to a rich, Cheeto loving pop star, he feels he should have the red carpet treatment as well. Word on the street is that Cletus believes he's the hottest thing to ever walk the planet in puffy Velcro sneakers. The ex-pizza delivery boy who couldn't afford his rusty van is now roaming the streets of LA like he's the Prince of Bel Air. A former buddy of Kev's says, "Kevin thinks he's a big shot TV star. You wouldn't believe how swelled his head is. The way he carries on, you'd think he had the lead role in some big TV drama, not just a reality TV show" Another person notes that the wanna-be rapper has a horrible voice and shouldn't come within ten miles of a recording studio. That's okay, thankfully there's a little device called a ProTool that can assist with poor quality vocals, just ask Ashlee Simpson. While Kev struts around believing his music will be spun into gold and magic will happen across the airwaves when "Fresno Boi" gets played, Britney is busy planning the birth of Wanda Jasmine Tiffani Federline by instructing the Arizona hospital where she is to have the baby, to vacate rooms surrounding her suite. All nurses will be subjected to an extensive background check. Besides Disney music, Brit would like her bed to be covered in rose petals, soft lighting will illuminate the room and scented candles will burn. I'm not sure if she thinks giving birth is going to be romantic- knowing Kevin he will expect her to put out right after the baby is born- but pushing a watermelon through a key hole isn't the stuff romance is made of.
 Eeek eeek nanu nanu bleep bop ooga chucka. Tom Cruise, oh yes, he just cannot keep himself out of the news, believes that there are aliens among us. Somewhere there is a planet where small green men run around wearing nothing but an antennae on their heads and all have achieved a state of Clear. In case you haven’t heard, millions of years ago, aliens lived in Hawaii and Xenu was their leader. A small piece of alien lives in each one of us and through Scientology, you can find and embrace your own inner Xenu. The cult is all about discovering the extraterrestrial in each of us. When asked if he believed in aliens Tommy grew silent. His eyes began to take on a greenish hue and he firmly stated, YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND. Listen. Listen to me. And then he asked, “Are you really so arrogant as to believe we are alone in this universe?" Whether you believe in life on Mars or you have found UFO residue in your backyard, if your name is Tom Cruise, you should keep your pie hole clamped nice and tight. People are going to read into what you say given the latest round of strange and odd behavior the world has witnessed. I'm pretty much reading that Tom Cruise believes an alien priest will marry him and Kate and the three of them will give birth to a two headed space invader and call it Brozac.
 By now you may have heard the gentle rumblings of the rumors but I feel it is my duty to report it so we can all rest easy should this get out of control. Rob Thomas of Matchbox 20, one of my personal favorite bands, was found by his wife in bed with Tom Cruise. Oh the horror! Reminds me of the time I was found in bed with Antonio Sabato Jr. and my grandmother walked in while we were playing naked Twister. She went into shock and I had to coax her back to life with a teacup full of Benedyrl and a vodka tonic. Poor Marisol! Did she know her husband went back and forth like a swing on a child's playground? Eeek! Naturally once the Scientology cyborgs heard about this, they went crazy- it wasnt too far of a trip- and paid her off to keep her yap clamped tighter than Katies Holmes legs. I'm really, really disappointed. Rob, couldnt you find someone other than Tom? Like, oh I dont know...Rupert Everett?
 Mimi Rogers cannot understand why I am so troubled by this whole Tom and Katie- oh she's going by Kate now- this bizarre coupling. Mimi, who introduced Tom to Dianetic's several years ago, insists he is really in love with Kate. She must be a paid board member backing the Elron Bendar Xenu group because Mimi is in total defense (and denial) of Tom and Kate's romance. She is shocked over those people (me) who don't believe the twosome (threesome if you count Xenu) are really in love. Mimi tells us, "Let's look at Katie Holmes: 'I'm 26, I'm gorgeous, I have a huge movie that just opened, I've got like 10 million offers. I need to have a fake marriage." Mimi clearly isn't in the know like we are. She has no knowledge of the contract which pays Kate $8 million dollars over five years and ensures a career boost and a fabulous lifestyle. Kate receives free alien shuttles to the mother planet and complimentary sleeping vitamins and electronic skull caps plus a full time babysitter and all the Top Gun dvds she wants. There have been stories around for years regarding Tom being gay but no solid proof like photos or videos, he should be thankful he doesn't have a Chihuahua like Tinkerbell who takes cell phone pictures! Tom's boyfriend lives in Chicago which is super convenient for when Tom pops in to Harpo studios for a chat with Oprah. Tom will do anything and pay any amount to cover his tracks. Everyone he comes in contact with must sign an extensive confidentiality agreement, much like the ten page contract I had my former housekeeper sign. She then took a pair of underwear and sold it on ebay for six hundred dollars.
 The secret to John Travoltas weight loss? It's a cross training workout of exercise and sex. Lots of sex. Behind the closed doors of the Scientology center of course. Why, where else would it happen? John loves to eat lots of fattening food like little Debbie Snackcakes and Keebler Fudgestripes. I bet he digs Girl Scout Thin Mints too. In fact, it's not a secret that he and Kirstie Alley have a monthly hot dog eating contest in the Medula Oblongata Exchange terminal at the center. He has won the Introspection Pie Eating contest four years running. John says, "I don't like diets. I don't believe in restricting the life force. You get into trouble when you stop people from eating or having sex." In related news, I received an email this afternoon that stated Scientology professors cite their program as successful in turning homosexuals around. Example: they are proud to have successfully "cured" John Travolta. They should really type that up and include it on their brochures.
 Rupert Everett, best known for voicing Prince Charming in Shrek and being Julia's best bud in My Best Friend's Wedding, is writing a book about- well, himself. You know celebs just love to write about themselves. Take me for example. My autobiography is riveting. I stare at myself in the mirror for hours until inspiration comes over me and I am moved to write a chapter or two. The book is going to be a huge success and I already have chosen Hilary Duff to play me in the movie. Rupert said in a statement, "I seem to have been everywhere in the last 30 years. Maybe not in the epicenter but flying around the periphery of extraordinary events and equally extraordinary people." Obviously I'm going to be included in the book if he's talking about extraordinary people. I'm so grateful he didn't call me amazing and magnificent. Those are two words people keep applying to me and quite frankly, it's getting a bit embarrassing!
 Ben Affleck at the airport, checking in with me- wait hold on- "No Ben, I don't think it's funny when you use your penis as a prop. No, I didn't see Puppetry of the Penis. No, it was a good thing that you broke up with that Lopez girl. Of course I like Jen! Right, she is a tad plain for my taste but that's just me. I know- you haven't had a big box office hit since- what? Matt Damon? Well..yeah he was good in his last movie. No! Don't run for office! Of course you shouldn't pose for Playgirl, no, really. Seriously. A lap dance? Ben! No I can't do that now, you have a baby on the way! No, I won't take my clothes off either. Ben, stop. The yacht? Rubbing my ass with baby oil? How can I forget? Yes, the coat does make you look like a fisherman. Ben? I have another call. I've got to go. Ben! PUT IT AWAY!"
 I believe I should be invited to Avril's wedding. It was unfortunate that I couldn't make it to Britney's southern fried soiree. But I looked at that as a blessing in disguise because chicken fingers give me gas and I simply cannot indulge in Fritos and Twinkie pie since turning 30 and becoming macrobiotic. Plus, I'm not entirely comfortable wearing camel toe inducing track pants even if they were Juicy Couture. I am way too dignified to don any garment with the word "ho" on it. It seems like Nicole may not invite me to her wedding because I made some rather rude comments regarding the elephants and swans being imported for her nuptials. Avril will have a really fun wedding full of angst and darkness. I wonder if her fiancee, Deryck (however you spell it, I'm not really tight with him) will wear tapered legged tuxedo pants and a short jacket with thick soled Doc Martens for the wedding? In the above photo he looks like he has been put in a time machine and is coming to visit us from the year 1987. If I had known I would have prepared by wearing my oversized Outback Red sweater and my LA Gear hightops. I'd like to take a moment and point out that Avril should really hem her pants. And there better be a cashmere sweater- clad mini dog in that big leather bag or else she just isn't in the "in" crowd like me and Paris and Hilary. It's time to be honest: her real name is April Levine.
 Look, it's Aunt Ethel fresh from playing canasta with the seniors at the retirement home. You know, when she puts in her false teeth, she looks years younger. I encourage her to wear those oversize tunics and loose fitting pants strictly for comfort, you should see her in a tank top and her polyester coulottes with her knee high pantyhose and wedgie sandals, not so cute. Once I convinced her the cataracts would get better if she shielded her eyes with oversized, tinted bifocals, she can actually read with out eyedrops. I'm trying to get her to snip her hair, after all shorter hair takes years off an old womans' face. See, she's waving! Hello, right back to you Auntie! Tell the bingo gals I'll see them on Friday and don't forget we're meeting at Denny's for the early bird dinner. Oh, and please put your teeth back in!
 Remember that "cute" kid from the Jerry McGuire movie? You know, Renee Zellweger's son? Yeah, him. Well, he's grown up. And I swear he looks like Cousin Oliver from the Brady Bunch. May I suggest a hot oil treatment for your parched locks, Jonathan?
 PREGNANTAccording to Page Six, Angelina is pregnant with Brad Pitt's child and the two will produce a new specimen of humans called Glamouroids. I know. I cannot even believe it. I haven't had my Xanax and three morning vodkatinis yet so I'm not sure how I feel about this. My calls to Angie and Jennifer Aniston have not yet been returned. I'm sure as Jen hears my voice on her ans. machine she will call me right back forgetting about the time Vince hit on me at Hollywood Billiards. He bumped into me and asked for my number. Coy as a fox, I made him give me his and never called him. Boy, I'm wishing I did right now. I have a feeling she's seeking comfort with the Cox-Arquette clan. David is really good about cheering people up, he always has a whoopie cushion and fake dog poo ready. I am hesistant to believe this baby announcement so I may retract this posting if I hear it is not true. If it is true, well, then I'm going to pick my outfit for the wedding. It will include a mask and a whip, fishnet stockings and leather hot pants and matching one for the baby. Cheers!
 Dear Tom, Thank you for the invite to meet you at your special mecca of scientific alien perfection. Yes, I would have enjoyed eating a Marie Callander's razzleberry pie with Kirstie Alley. And of course, seeing Juliette Lewis, Angela Bassett and Lisa Marie Presley would have been loads of fun. John Travolta is always kind if not a tad snooty about his planes. His wife, on the other hand is rather rude and brags about being a Thetan 6 and maintaining a level of Clear. It's always uncomfortable seeing Mimi Rogers as she constantly is pushing vitamins and pamphlets in my arms. While a tour of the facility would have been grand, I don’t understand why you told me to clear my calendar for fifteen days and to come with a shaved head? I really wonder why you keep clamping that large instrument on my upper arm and chanting, Abu beeza ag beldar elron xenu? You must know I only speak English and only passably at that. Your kindness and the offer to wean me off of my mind altering drugs is pleasant. And you're right, I don’t understand that the psychiatric community is trying to maintain control over my brain through a small pill. Perhaps a ride to planet Elron Beldar can be scheduled at a later date, thanks just the same. I would rather not undergo an Introspection Rundown at this time and I would prefer not to cut off all ties with my friends, family, neighbors and other people in my life as of now. Might I inquire as to why your eyes glow green at night but red during the day? And the offer of spending one week in Isolation is tempting, but without my colonics and vodkatinis, I just don’t think that’s going to work. Also, you need to know that I enjoy being imperfect and do not need an aluminum bowl strapped to my head with electric microchips implanted in my brain, it's fine as is. While you made it clear that I am not to speak of our secret meeting, I cannot help but tell my friends about how you forced me into a room of Thetan 7s and had me give my life story while duct taped to a model rocket under a painted sky of L Ron Hubbard faces. It scared me. In closing, thank you for the voice mails, emails, cell phone calls, personal phone messages, text messages, pages and letters regarding my current state. Matt Lauer and I were chatting just this morning and we agree it's best that you and I not see each other again. Thank you for the offer of the five million dollars but Orlando Bloom got to me first and he made no mention of weaning me off my drugs. I think I'm going to go with him. Kindly, Distressed Jeans
 Jennifer Connelly appears with an oversized albino lab rat in a gray suit at her movie premiere. Oh wait- so sorry! That is her husband, actor Paul Bettany who has taken on the appearance of a ivory faced ghoul. Normally I think Paul is cute, not right now. Does anyone remember the movie, "Powder?" I see he has the new "Brad Pitt" hairstyle, peroxided and buzzed short. You know, Angelina is a fabulous hair stylist. I hear she's doing all the guys in Hollywood. Doing their hair, I mean! Oops, Freudian slip. I hope Paul realized that bleaching your eyebrows with a Clorox pen can cause blindness and impotence. Jennifer is in technicolor with her black hair, bright red dress and crimson lipstick. Maybe she should have been a little more considerate and wore a white dress with kabuki makeup on her face to blend in with her husband. He scares me. Must look away.
 Fed up with cheating American men who don't know how to treat women right, Halle Berry is rumored to be leaving California for the damp, cloudy weather of London. Prepare to hear her speak with a faux British Madonna accent soon. According to Halle, British men are more straightforward and honest. She wants to live in England and be around people who are blunt. Well, obviously she never got a chance to get to know me because in two minutes she would realize I'm as blunt as an unsharpened knife and we would forge a friendship that would last forever. Our days together would include spa treatments and colonics. Halle, I could have been your BFF, but it's too late- or is it? Look for Halle to soon appear along side an older man with big yellow teeth, hair in his ears, oversized glasses and a pipe, his belly softened by daily pints at the nearest pub.
 The first step is admitting there's a problem. And Ryan Seacrest is only too happy to indulge his fans in some information that was really better left unsaid. In his early career as a deejay, Ryan "I have my own clothing line" Seacrest would "practice introducing songs using Paula Abduls records." While he doesn't outwardly admit he used to dress up in black tights, heels and repeat Paula's dance moves in his mirror, he proudly announces his love for "Forever Your Girl" and "Straight Up." I believe he had a crush on those animated characters in her video. And I would not be surprised to find a loin cloth and a rubber snake under his bed as homage to "Cold Hearted Snake." Don't deny it, Seacrest. He goes on to dig himself a deeper grave talking freely about his love of pop music (O-Town tops his list) and admits he thought Paula was hot and "That's when I realized I liked girls." But what was his reaction to the guys in Color Me Badd? Is that when he realized he liked boys too? I would gladly meet Ryan for a decaf, non- fat, soy latte with one shot of almond syrup and half a sweet n' low, but I don't think Ryan and I are cut out to have a torrid affair. My prerequisite for any guy I date is that he must love AC/DC and play a mean air guitar with his big callused hands, not wear a Paula Abdul World Concert Tour tee shirt with coordinating pearls and a clutch bag. Distressed Jeans...out!
 Corey Clark, the fame seeking sex slave of Paula Abdul got in a bit of a kerfluffle the other day and was cited on a "misdemeanor battery charge." Corey, ever the picture of elegance and good manners, was having breakfast with a record executive when the two got in a heated argument- is there any other kind- and he started throwing food and dishes. I guess coffee and eggs were a-flyin. Remember the food fight in the classic film, Animal House? Yes, like that except Corey isn't a drunken frat boy. I haven't been in a good food fight in a long time. But this episode reminds me of the time I was modeling with Naomi Campbell and she threw a tube of lipstick and a compact at my head. I pulled her hair extensions and Christy Turlington had to hold Naomi down so I could hit her over the head with my stiletto. I miss those days. Drunken fights on the catwalk and such. When the police arrived, both Corey and the exec had scratches on their arms, from airborne cutlery and smashed plates. Ever try to catch a knife mid-air? When I was in the circus back in '92 I tried my hand at knife throwing. Didn't go over too well. Corey thought his problems becoming famous had more to do with his affair with Paula but I'm beginning to think his propensity for battery is a more likely culprit. Let's not forget his 2002 battery charge for hitting his sister. I'm not sure if foodstuffs or dishes were involved.
 Oh, finally we get to see the debut of Kevin Federline's new clothes for chicks. Are you stoked? Not necessarily for pregnant girlss, but Brit feels comfortable showing off her swollen boobage and bulging tummy. I'm not sure if Kev designed the dream catcher earrings or as Kev likes to call them, toe holders. Use your imagination. I believe the outfit was intended for a bar maid at a strip club but hey, work it Britney! The tag on both the skirt and top reads: Skidmarx Klothes by K.Fed. What up Fresno! It's a long tag line but it works. And the klothes come with a free kompact disc of Kevin's new rap album. I think it goes a little like this: Hot hot baby- too hot! Love is love. Oh baby. Yo! baby! Yo! You down wit dat? Chillin' wif my homeboys! Yo peeps!
 Brittany: new nose? I think so!
 Lindsay forgos orange self-tanner in order to bask in baby oil and smoke unfiltered cigarettes in the sun. Upon close examination, I think she still has the implants. The swelling has gone down and the implant has settled into her chest cavity. Also noted, she recently under went a complete colonic irrigation ridding her body of poisonous toxins like gin, whiskey, beer, vodka, wine, tequila and cocaine. I shot off an email to her, inviting her to come over for a complimentary hair coloring and a free ice cream cone. Let's see if she writes me back.
 Brittany Murphy is just as cute as doll, isn't she? Hard to believe she dated Ashton "The Kabbalah Kutch" Kutcher. It's also hard to believe she isn't on speed because she has the energy of a supermodel on a coke binge. But what I really don't know is if she has had plastic surgery. Many people have emailed me to ask my professional opinion as a celebrity specialist. As one who can spot facial alterations a mile away, I must be losing my mojo because I cannot tell with Ms. Murphy. The nose looks small. The face more angular than a few years ago although I know she lost weight. Her calls me to have gone unreturned. I see we have a plastic surgeon reading the blog so Doc, let's have your opinion. Brittany Murphy: nose job, chin work or au natural?
 I used to think Ben Affleck was cute. In Pearl Harbor he was pretty hot in that uniform and his curly hair all combed nicely. Then I read about how he liked to place his nuts on people's necks and how he also enjoys using his penis as a prop. Then there was that time we were playing poker and well, you remember what he considered his royal flush, right? And now I see that he...gulp...he...he has Lady Hands! Those fingers are long and white and the hands are kind of small for such a big guy. I'm sorry Ben but I cannot see you any more. You will not be laying on my yacht stroking my perfectly peachy buttocks any time soon. Not with those girly fingers.
 Kevin Federline looking...oily in his stained Le Tigre shirt and smelly ballcap. What isn't shown in the photo is his ever present puffy unlaced shoes and gigantic manpris. Britney comments that her man has great style and he is currently designing a line of clothing that will rival P. Diddy's. He is trying out names right now: K. Feddy, Fresno Fed, Klothes by Kev, Federline Fashuns, FedSpears Funk, Manpri's and More, Cigs and Beer, Mullets n' Manpris, Gravytrain Garments, and Lotsa Cash Clothes. I can't wait! First up is a line of maternity wear featuring togas, tube tops, hot pants and high heels with a cushioned instep. Kev's a marketing genius appealing to all genders and age groups.
 I hear producers are trying to convince Nicole Richie to film another season of the Simple Life. In order to cut craft service costs, Nicole would be the best for the budget because she eats the least. But in close running, is Kimberly Stewart, shown above. I doubt she has the personality Nicole brings to the show. But she has the other requirements which are: 1. famous singer father 2. blonde 3. skinny 4. druggie 5. wears big sunglasses 6. wealthy 7. makes Paris look pretty by comparison 8. has never made a porn tape 9. makes Paris look smart by comparison 10. loves to party I fit about five of those, how about me for Paris's sidekick? No, even better how about Katie Holmes as the costar? That would add a really amazing, magnificent element to the show that has been left unexplored in other episodes, don't you agree?
 Hilary Duff strolls the streets with her dog, Lola and Randy Jackson. To make shoes like Hilary's, simply criss cross white medical tape around your feet in an X pattern until it reaches your ankle. Snip off and tuck. There you have your very own Duff shoes! In a pinch you can also use duct tape.
 Hey Britney! Love the boobs, like the dress, hate the boots. Did you borrow them from Jessica Simpson? I would love to see you in a half shirt and shorty shorts rolling around on top of a car right now. I just ran into Kev at the gas station where he was talking on his cell phone and smoking a cig while pumping gas. Do you think he ever took the time to read the pictures with the big red X over the pictures of smoking and cellphones? He's going to burst into flames what with all the grease already on his body. Anyway, sorry I missed your show, Chaotic. I hear it was really..umm, good. And I love the name you picked for your daughter, Tiffani Jasmine Lynne Spears Federline. It has that special Las Vegas showgirl quality not found in many names of today. Call me later Brit! We can meet up for Starbucks and go shopping for soap and toothpaste.
You had me at Nanu Nanu
 The Psychotic Interview- What you didn't see: Matt: Tom, two words to describe Kate Holmes? Tom: Amazing and magnificent Matt: How would you describe Steven Spielberg? Tom: Amazing and magnificent Matt: Tell me a little about your new movie, War of the Worlds? Tom: Really, it's amazing and magnificent. Matt: Where was Katie during those 16 days she was missing from her friends and family, Tom? Tom? Tom: Xenu doesn't want me talking about it. Abu dabu ooba eeek. Matt: What goes on in the Scientology center? Tom leans forward and whispers: Xenu prohibits free information regarding the mecca of spiritual technology. Beeeeeep. Iguuuu. Matt: Tell me, Tom, about your dyslexia and apparent manic stages? Tom: I have studied drug use and the effects of psychiatry for the past twenty years. I know more than you do Matt. You don't understand. You don't understand. Matt: Tom, that wasn't the question. But isn't it true you are a highschool dropout? Tom: You don't understand. Drugs are the not the answer. Vitamins and exercise will cure everything from polio to scabies. Matt, people just don't understand. Mat, Matt, don't be glib. I want to lift mentally ill patients up in the mother ship, the SS L Ron Hubbard and use my specially designed emeter and raise them to a Thetan level 4 where all their problems will be obsolete. Mental problems..are all in the head. Imagined. Listen to me Matt. We can cure all. With your ten thousand dollar donation, you will be raised to a stage where you will no longer feel pain. The force of L Ron is with us. He is amazing. And magnificent.
 I can't take credit for the artwork. It's just so brilliant and snarky and funny that I had to share my latest and greatest find on the internet. A very talented artist produces these paintings. I suggest you run over to the site and check out all of her work RIGHT NOW! XENU orders you to do it per Tom Cruise's request. OKAY? Leave your emeters and anal butt plugs at the door and click here.
 Victoria and I enjoy a girly chit-chat while David plays in the water and trolls for hot chicks. At first I wasn't sure about drinking so early in the day- in public- but then I said, What the heck! And made myself a huge frosted vodkatini with extra vodka from my portable cooler/ liquor cabinet on wheels. Victoria chastised me and in a cold voice, informed me the only beverage suitable for a fashionista at the beach is a Waterford crystal flute of Cristal. Unfortunately for me, the only thing I thought to bring was my vat of vodka and a large blue plastic tumbler. I think she was totally jealous.
 Resist the urge to pick the wedge because then you know, it's just not as funny. You know its Cameron Diaz because it says Timberlake on the bottom of the photo and she has scars on her buttocks. I would like to suggest she buy her bathing suit maybe one size bigger so it doesn't shrink up into her colon and cause damage to her internal organs.
 Is Jada getting jiggy wit it? Then why the Mr. T neckwear? Why the matronly just-past the knee-skirt? Why the Easy Spirit sneakers? WHY, JADA, WHY?
 Ahhhh, yes. The good old days. Makes me long for a time when starlets where a shade more innocent. You know what I mean? Please don't tell me those boobs are real. She looks mad. Does this have something to do with Wilmer Valderbanana?
 Sienna Miller takes the boho-homeless-dumpster chic-Olsens on a crack binge look one step further and leaves her shoes at home. Sometimes it's nice to get your feet really gross and black and sooty then crawl into your white 700 thread count sheets. I love foot fungus, don't you? Next stop: public restroom, preferable in the vicinity of a gas station, those are the cleanest. Or so Britney says.
 TAKE ME TO YOUR LEADER. And then, when the two have been beamed up inside the mother ship with their emeters strapped to their upper thighs and their thetans have cracked open their heads and readjusted the techno- panel hidden in their brains, then maybe someone can suggest to Tom that a shiny suit jacket is akin to what a used car salesman would wear while strolling the lot, not to bounce around the red carpet. Are those acid washed jeans? Psst... Tom. Feathered hair? Do the aliens have a pair of scissors? If it's okay with Jessica, maybe you could get a trim.
 Paris Hilton looks lovely and summery in a white sundress. I would love to have one just like it, hint hint.
But what's up with Paris L. wearing summer couture from the Richard Simmons collection? If he wants to look like a backup dancer for Sweatin' to the Oldies, the pants need to be hemmed into shorty shorts and he needs socks as thick as a roll of toilet paper. Have we heard Mr. Latsis speak? I would love it if he had a high-pitched squealy voice. Seriously, how could Paris let her boyfriend out of the house like that? Even ferocious Tinkerbell is better outfitted.
 I ran into Howard Stern and his girlfriend Beth at the premiere of War of The Worlds. Things got a little sticky when the three of us came face to face with Tom Cruise. Tom glared, giving me the evil eye and I swear his pupils were casting a crimson glow. He was also sweating profusely from bouncing around without his dose of Ritalin. A strange man in black was following behind him carrying a large and pointy tool that looked like an anal spear. I told Tom that I firmly believed grown men should not be sporting bangs. Howard tried to joke with Tom but was met with stony faced silence and nostril flaring. I then turned to Howard to strike up some witty banter but I believe he thought I was with Tom because he just snorted and walked away. I guess Howard doesn't remember the time I was competing on his show for the Hottest Blogger contest. Yeah, I should have stood out because it was me and a pimply faced intern from Defamer. When I came home from the War of the World's movie, (I walked out after the first five minutes- Sci-fi is not my thang) inside my Botega bag I found a phone number and a note asking me to drop by the Scientology Center for a ride on the mother ship and a complimentary trip inside the mecca of technical perfection. It didn't mention a colon cleanse or a pedicure so I think I'll pass. But the googie bag from the premiere was good. A full size poster of Tom Cruise trying to look manly, a dog eared copy of Dianetics, a wallet sized photo of L. Ron Hubbard and a dvd of Fat Actress along with a coupon for a free 45 minute flight on John Travolta's jet.
 Not only is her bra too small but her butt cheeks seems to have swallowed her g-string. Pam Anderon tries to fix her rear view while balancing on five inch heels. It's nice to see her Mystic Tanning did not miss any spots and for her wax job, I give two thumbs up.
 Did you know that Paris Hilton's pampered, snooty dog violently attacked a television producer? It really makes me think twice as Paris later bragged she treats her dogs like her children. She said she will be a wonderful mother, better than Britney Spears! She is a mother who teaches her children to bite. How impolite! Obviously the dog hasn't been taking her etiquette classes seriously. One should never bite a stranger and always remember the cloth napkin goes across your lap. Here's the low down: Tinkerbell, who was in full princess regalia, was taken to the Today show by Tink's grandma, Kathy Hilton. The producer was chatting with Kathy about monogrammed sweaters when the dog began barking like a rabid coyote with a limb caught in a trap. The producer attempted to pacify the beast by putting her hand in Tinkerbell's luxury accommodations, her Louis Vuitton carrying case. Tinkerbell bared her piranha teeth and bit the producer. Lawsuit! Mrs. Hilton sat and watched, not even attempting to help the situation. She just toyed with her pearls and watched the showdown. You think maybe Kathy could have done something like waved a can of caviar in front of the dog or promised her a new diamond tiara? No. I believe Kathy was high on valium and unable to move her botoxed face- a double negative. So, back to Paris being a good mom- yeah. And the news on the street is Paris and Paris's (the plural being Pari) engagement? A sham. The two will never marry. She wanted this set up to erase the image of Porn Star Paris from the minds of her fans and lure them into thinking of her as Domestic Wife Paris. Just wait and see. No wedding. No baby. But one hell of a mean bitch.
 Most women at age 46 are getting ready to take a daily Geritol tablet and drink some estrogen- infused tea to ward off hot flashes but Madonna is tucking rocks into her bra for good luck. Esther is a huge fan of what she calls Crystal Therapy and what I call voodoo. I am very open to many kinds of spirituality and hot stone massages and crystals and colon blow and meditation but something about Madonna and stones in her bustier is rubbing me the wrong way. Maybe it's because she refused to let me babysit her children since she knew I would stick them in front of the television while I sharpened my knives and invited strange men over. A big pink quartz stone in Madge's bra is supposed to encourage love and healing. And Madonna is not gearing up for menopause, she is trying to get pregnant. I wonder if Guy has to tape crystals to his balls to encourage love and increased sperm? In her quest for a mid-life child, Madonna has also turned to Indian medicine to help her conceive. She is gulping down pills the size of my big toe every day to help the fertilization. I prescribe a diet and fitness regimen of Krispy Kreme donuts followed by laying on the couch and watching Jerry Springer while drinking Mountain Dew.
 Want to rethink the white socks and black shoes, Vince? Jennifer Aniston is ready to talk and believe me, I'm ready to listen. Jen's good friend, not Courteney Cox but Gwen Stefani, has told Jen to get back at Brad, that two timing blood sucking cheater. Gwen is telling Jen not to be a doormat with Welcome written on it. Because Brad has walked all over her and has invited Angelina to wipe her stilettos on her too, so to speak. All the talk over Jennifer not wanting kids? Not true. Brad has bended and twisted rumors and lies all to appear like a husband who has been deceived by his calculating wife. I've heard that Jennifer will pour out her heart in an interview in Vanity Fair. She is supposed to be coming out with explosive, heart pounding, gut wrenching news that we haven't heard before! Yes! I love it!! Keep it coming. She will reveal the truth about Brad's affair with Angelina. I wonder if she will divulge all the secret phone calls that went on right in her own home. Brad, how could you? How could you do this? To me, especially! Didn't I mean anything to you? All the while Brad has been painting a picture of a career focused, cold hearted, matronly anal retentive actress with problems and issues that cannot be solved by smoking pot which Brad loves to do. Jen was taking it in stride but now she is pissed and with Gwen's coaching, she isn't backing down. Just like that Tom Petty song. I think whenever I see Jen, I'm going to start humming I Will Survive.
 Why is my skin so orange? Don't expect Lindsay to get naked for a movie role. She refused an offer from Playboy and passed the note onto her mother who eagerly accepted. But Lindsay, she has more class than that. You will not find her naked in the grotto at the Playboy mansion hanging out with Scott Baio and Robin Leach. Nope. La Lohan states, "You will never see me in a nude scene." Never say never! She goes on to talk about how she wants to be a respected actress. I think she has a great start. People are always chatting about her um, you know...body of work. She didn't want to bare all for Playboy because she felt in doing so, she would be sending the wrong message to her young fans. But its okay to diet down to skin and bones and smoke and do drugs in the bathroom of nightclubs with the Olsen twins. Don't you know the pockets in those big leather bags are made for coke vials? Like, duh! Der! Linds also notes that she does not go to parties and out clubbing like the media portrays. She is a rather quiet girl who likes to stay home and quilt. The paparazzi's just don't have the photos to prove it. The girl we see stumbling out of the clubs and holding a cigarette in her mouth like a truck driver must be her stunt double, Bindsay Flohan. Gosh, she just wants to be taken seriously! Come on people. By the way, I'm still waiting for my VIP goodie bag to be sent over.
 Lindsay may have turned down a Playboy offer but Jessica might consider it. Her father encourages her to show off her breasts at any turn. While Dina Lohan and Linds could have done a mother/daughter spread, executives are mulling over a father/daughter spread in a racier magazine. Jessica is open to it and her father looks forward to finding another way to pimp his Jessica out to male and female fans. Of course, this is just hearsay but honestly now. Would it really be surprising to see Joe and Jess in the pages of a magazine you have to buy from behind the counter?
 Katie, Katie. What is happening to you? Did you know that Scientologists consider new members to be "raw meat"? Katie must sever ties with her friends and family who do not support her new cultish ways which would include me. I've been cut off from Katie. Her family recently dined with the Cruise clan and apparently, the Holmes people just LOVED Tom. I wonder if he got up on the table and started jumping to demonstrate his love for their daughter. Did he try to hypnotize them with shiny spoons and send subliminal messages over beef wellington and truffles with a red wine reduction? I'm not sure when Katie is scheduled for her "introspection rundown". I'm sure you are wondering if the babysitter/handler/assistant/culty Jessica was there and she was. She would gently press her knife into Katie's thigh if Katie deviated from the script. Jessica had to use her butter knife when Katie blurted, "Even though I'm only getting five million dollars for being with Tom, I'm sure our sham will land me better roles." However she is wrong. The next Batman installation will not feature Katie because who wants to work with someone who has a personal, technical emeter- toting representative from a scary cult hanging around? The movie studio is not happy about all the negative energy surrounding the Tom and Katie Show. I must say I love it. It gives me something to talk about other than colon cleansing and shopping.
 Have you ever wondered what would happen if Trista and Ryan had to race Amber and Rob in a canoe around a buoy and then run through sand and across a finish line? Well, wonder no more. Bravo is bringing back Battle of the Network Stars and I can't wait! All participants will be former reality show contestants which totally sweetens the deal. I dont have many details but I would bet my Coach bag that a kayak will be involved and possibly a log roll. We haven't seen the end of Ryan Star, Trishelle, Joe Marriott and Bachelor Bob Guiney. Set your tivo people. It's going to premiere on Wed. August 17th. Can you feel the excitement building? I'll be in front of my television set with a big bag of fat- free popcorn, just waiting for the battle to begin. I hope they have those huge q-tip looking things where contestants have to go head to head on a log while trying to push each other off with the puffy q-tips. Heres a tip- if you go on a reality show, you can easily parlay your fifteen minutes of fame to stretch on forever. You can make a career out of being yourself in front of the camera. From Real World, go to the Surreal Life and then onto Battle of the Network Stars and maybe a few cameos on the UPN and then a couple of speaking appearances with a commercial or two thrown in. We can even create more outlets for our reality show friends, Celebrity Cook Off, Celebrity Fashion Show, Reality Show Detox to name a few. How about the future best sellers, Reality Fame for Dummies and the Idiots Guide to Always Being on Television? A magazine, Survivor Cast- Offs Weekly? The possibilites are endless.
 Would you like to date George Clooney? You have a chance with the playboy but only if you have big boobs and don't mind unsafe sex and are willing to deal with his exclusive "boys club" where woman are not allowed. He likes to hang out with his male friends and do guy stuff yet keep you on call for his sexual needs and movie premieres. George has split with Lisa Snowden because the relationship apparently reached a dead end. It had "nowhere to go" which probably means she wanted to get married and he didn't. George and Lisa were dating for about five years which is a long time. If he didn't propose after two years, I would have kicked his ass to the curb but not before I insisted he buy me fancy clothes and diamonds and a new car and a nice big house with a wide screen plasma television and furniture from Armani. Then we could agree the relationship was not working for either of us. Another reason the pair broke up was because George is a workaholic and Lisa did not want to leave England. Of course the split was "amicable" which translated for those of you not in the biz, means they will still have sex when they see each other.
 Sometimes a new bra one size larger makes all the difference in the world. Yes, its true, the fashionistas of the world must suffer for beauty. But there's not really anything fashionable or beautiful about an implant being suffocated by a bra that is too small. Can I just say that too much Mystic Tanner and self tanning lotion creates the appearance of a cow hide? I've been on a ranch and I've roped steer and even the skin of a cow looks healthier. I have ridden a cheetah in the jungle and wrestled crocodiles in swamplands and of all the creatures, Pam's skin is the best for a pair of heels and a matching bag.
 When you are famous you get all kind of perks. Like freebies for your VIP friends at your birthday party. Sorry to my C-list buddies who only got a Blow-Pop and a sample of CK One, next year will be better I promise! Lindsay Lohan has an on- call wardrobe assistant who buttons Lindsay's shorts for her. Listen, we cannot be bothered with things like tying our own shoes (Kevin Federline) walking our dogs (Mary Kate Olsen) brushing our own hair (Jennifer Lopez) doing our own make-up (Mariah Carey). There are just so many demands on our day to day activites, our assistants need assistants to get it all done. Why, just today after my assistant finished brushing each individual tooth with special polish for me and was zipping up my Betsey Johnson dress, we were talking about these crazy celebs who have such ridiculous demands. Then I shooed her away to go mist perfume into my shoes.
 It's so sad that Katie had to take her wierd older cousin to the prom this year. The pose is so uncomfortable, I need to wash my eyes after viewing it. Where is her corsage? Why is he wearing blue jeans? Why is he grabbing her upper arm? Does she have a blister on her foot? When will these two go away? Will my questions ever be answered? And what was with the phone call this afternoon on my private line where someone sounding oddly like Jenna Elfman told me to lay off the Tom bashing? Who sent me the literature on having an Introspection Rundown for the low cost of $2,000? And for the last time, I do not want to be audited! Just pass that along to John Travolta next time you see him, will you?
 Janet Jackson's face is sporting the carb bloat. Or are her new cheek implants finally settling into her face? Either way, her hair style is hiding a Happy Meal and a large strawberry shake. She just opens her bun like a lid and ...snacktime! I knew a top knot was good for something. I wonder if the desire for a tiny nose is genetic?
 Me and Bob, working out the kinks. As a maid, dusting and vacuuming the homes of rich and famous actors may not be as rewarding as let's say getting an espresso colonic or having your aura read. Therefore a housekeeper may need to supplement her income by taking small presents as a token of her hard work. Which is just what one housekeeper did in the homes of Candice Bergen, Robert De Niro and Isabella Rossellini along with several other high profile fat- pocketed people. I mean, if you are going to work for pennies, shouldn't you feel free to help yourself to a gift or two? These stars are loaded! What's a credit card and a leather jacket between friends? Unfortunately the actors who had their goods lifted didn't have the same attitude. Charges are being pressed against the housekeeper who stole diamond earrings (allegedly belonging to Robert De Niro's wife) and expensive clothing. Well, duh! What else would she steal, crystal swans and coasters? She wants the good stuff! When confronted about her crime by a client, the housekeeper whose name is Lucyna replied, "I didn't think you would notice." Do celebs take a daily inventory? Last time I was over at DeNiro's house, a bootleg copy of Meet The Focker's almost found it's way into my Birkin bag. Good thing Dustin Hoffman interrupted me to show me his new penis piercing.
 Courtney Love, this is so sad Shall I add you to my Death watch list 2006?
 Poor Scarlett! First she doesn't get to have fantasy sex in a car and then she was cut from Mission Impossible 3. blah blah blah... scheduling conflicts. Yeah, we know that's code for an excuse. Like she didn't want to be a part of Tom's freaky world. The real deal, and we need to keep this to ourselves because people are watching what I write, is this: Tom invited Scarlett to the Scientology center where he tried to give her literature about joining the church. I'm sure pamphlets and brochures were forcefully placed in front of her as he tried to coerce her into the "back room" where I believe the full body scans and brainwashing happens. I think that might be the place for the initial monitoring of your gullibility and a micro chip is usually planted at the base of your neck. Tom then swung open a door to reveal a group of "upper level" aliens who were waiting to have dinner with the couple. It was then when Scarlett felt Tom's sweaty hand on her upper arm and he started to laugh like a rabid hyena. She excused herself and ran out. If you think this sounds like scene from that horrid movie, Vanilla Sky, guess again. It really happened. This cult is scary shit.
 Its everything about what's on television that you need to read. Funny recaps are perfect for me since I dont have the time with my busy schedule to sit and actually watch anything. Hilarious and snarky, just the way we like our humor, right? Check out TVgasm and tell the brilliant people over there that I said hello!
 While going backstage at a transvestite beauty pagent, Christina was snagged by Miss Dandelion and given a class A makeover by a guy with fake boobs, glitter in his bouffant and platform saddle shoes. That explains the clown cheeks, hooker lips and violet eyeshadow but what can we make of her penciled in eye brows? And the hair? Is that a french horn on your head or are your hiding a bratwurst in your hair? Sweetie sometimes, like now, less is way better than more. And Jordan, as her fiancee, you must know that love doesn't mean never having to say, "Girl, you look like you fell into a vat of MAC."
 Mary Kate is still looking rather pallid and haggard. I try to copy her look but my friends end up whispering about me and asking if I've smoked anything recently. Others ask if I have been sick. Thanks for your concern but really, I'm fine! I was just wearing my baggy, never washed, holes- in -the- knee jeans with my dad's old flannel shirt and a pair of wading boots with a string of pearls because I thought it looked good. I simply cannot pull off the pale skin, unwashed dirty hair matted to my head, faded tee shirt, circles under the eyes, oversized jacket and homeless person look. It takes a special kind of girl to always look like they've been dumpster diving and enjoying it. I wonder perfume she wears? I'm sure it's Glow by J. Lo. Or Paris, by Paris. Possibly Espresso by Starbucks.
 My friend Lauren has written a new novel and I am so excited. It is on Amazons beach read list which is a thrill. When I pack my bag for the tropics, I will be sure to tuck it into my Versace tote along with a bottle of Skyy vodka and my spf 150 to protect my skin! Also I will bring my oversized Jackie O glasses and red lipstick. When I get to the ocean, I will ask a lifeguard to open my umbrella and spread my luxury towel on the sand. I will sink down into the warm earth and open the book while everyone asks me what I'm reading and we will drink vodka and watch the fat men in Speedos walk by. Then I will resume reading. Check the book out on Amazon by clicking here.
 Is something missing from your life? Every time you pick up a magazine do you say to yourself, "Golly gee, I sure wish David and Victoria Beckham would model something so they could be in magazines?" I find that I often utter those words. Well my friends, our wish will be granted. Becks and Posh have been offered huge amounts of money to be the spokesmodels for L'oreal hair products. I hate to toot my own horn but I have pretty nice hair and no one, not even Suave, has offered me any kind of deal. They would be the first ever couple to pose for the "because I'm worth it" campaign. It would be a multi- million dollar deal so they would be dumb to turn it down. I know the couple want to move to Los Angeles so this could be like, their relocation fund. I can't wait to hang out with Victoria when she moves here. I know she is hardly with her sons so we would have lots of time to go tanning and shopping and drinking together. The only thing is that I'm worried David would hit on me because I am so alluring and have a great smile and sense of humor. That's something I'll just have to deal with though, right? I'll solider through the pain. Becks has previously modeled for a few other products and Victoria hasn't done much other than design those hideous crowned pocket pants over at Kitson.
 Jennifer Lopez would never go camping in a trailer and sit under the stars on a seat made of rocks while eating cowboy stew and nibbling on trail mix. She probably wouldn't care to unroll a polyester sleeping bag and lay her head on anything other than a goosedown, buckwheat, silk covered, extra king sized pillow with lavender oil delicately dotted on the outer edges. But that's just Jen. On the set of her movie with Antonio Banderas, J. Lo was very upset with her shoddy hotel room and poor living conditions. Let me say that she wasn't exactly being held captive in a Super 8 with scratchy 100 thread count sheets and a broken coffee pot if you catch my drift. She threw a hissy fit and demanded her needs be met at once! Jenny from the block wanted her own deluxe motor home plus a villa. That doesn't sound like a Bronx girl to me. That sounds like a bee-yotch who has nothing better to do than complain. Buy your own villa and motor coach if you don't like the one you've been given. And that's exactly what I told her when I called her cell and left a message. Now I'm worried P. Diddy or whatever he goes by, is going to hunt me down and drool on me or worse, force me to buy solid gold rims I can't afford. No one can touch her hair but stylist Oribe. Please! How dare we even think she could have any hairdresser come within inches of her mane? Oribe has magic fingers and a way with a brush that is pure enchantment. She wanted him to be flown to the set to the tune of $10,000 a DAY. For $1,000 a day, I will fly in (first class please and an extra flute of Cristal!) and comb Jennifer's hair and spray her down with Aqua Net. I say that's a real bargain.
 Sharon Stone may be headed for the pages of Playboy (calling all airbrushing artists; may need to work overtime!) but I wonder if Hugh Hefner is aware of her difficult needs. She is one demanding bitch! Stone's many requirements on the set of her latest movie included three nannies, two assistants, first class travel (is there any other way to go except private jet?) presidential suite, chef and deluxe motor home (not the tin can on wheels that Matthew McConahgayhay drives). She must be confusing herself with someone really important, like me. Sharon then goes on to insist on special Pilates equipment, chauffered car (so she can leave her kids in it probably) and a convertible sedan for herself. And then she demands she keep all jewelry and clothing worn in the movie and a $3500 daily allowance for bodyguards. Sheesh! No wonder she isn't getting much work these days. Sharon- aren't you a B-lister now? Will you be guest starring on Life on A Stick soon? She states, "When my brain exploded, it was the best thing that ever happened to me. I have such a better life now. I'm at the point in my life where if you don't want my peaches, don't shake my tree. I'm into Happy Town, and if you don't want to live in Happy Town, move, hit the friggin' bricks, baby." I have no clue what she is talking about except she was quoting a Steve Miller Band song. And does she mean, Funky Town because I've never heard of happy town? Either way La Sharon will be ripping off her clothes for the upcoming Playboy pictorial and probably asking for a personal trainer, makeup artist, masseuse, nail care specialist, herbologist, colon expert, feng shui designer and a day care provider for her sons. If Hef is concerned about saving a few bucks, he might try to figure a way for Dina Lohan and Sharon to pose together. He can call it the Mommy Dearest issue.
 Yee haw! That good ol' country boy, Matthew "naked bongos" McConaughey (another last name I have trouble spelling, thanks!) is dragging Tom's ex-beard on a trip in his camper. Nothing says romance like a tin can over a hot fire and a bag of jerky. I wonder if Penelope Cruz enjoys Royal Copenhagen or Red Man snuff? Matthew, who enjoys pulling himself up on random tree branches around Los Angeles and doing impromptu chin ups for pedestrians- show off!- can't wait to take her camping. I for one consider the idea of camping as crass and vulgar as blue jeans with a crease down the middle. In my world, the notion of roughing it is staying at a hotel without room service. So I wonder how Penelope is going to fare as she takes a shower at a communal bathing center and has to live without spa treatments and pedicures. Oh the horror! And are the two getting married? According to tiny man Matthew who is about five feet tall, "Marriage? I don't know about that. Let's see how this vacation works out." Now if it were me he was dating, I would last one night of sleeping in a pull- out bed that hovers over a makeshift oven. Without steaming hot water coming out of an extra large marble slab shower with duel heads, I would have to call the relationship off.
 Why do rich people demand free stuff? And get it? Case in point, our favorite druggie diva, Lindsay Lohan was asking for complimentary products for 100 guests (I wasn't invited) for her birthday party. Her publicist was on the computer for hours last week shooting off letters in hopes to score some last minute gifts for the VIP guests. The request was sent to scads of exclusive shops and a note begged, "If you do not have enough products for the entire party, please let us know and we would appreciate anything at this short notice! Also, if you would like us to put anything 'special' in Lindsay's gift bag we can arrange that as well. Thank you for very much and we apologize for the late notice!" Sure, I know of a few people who would like to give LL a "special" gift! Grrrr. And to think I was turned down when I asked Fred Segal and Kitson to contribute to my birthday treats for my VIP D-listers! Oh the nerve of that bitch, Lindsay! She couldn't dip into her millions to put a few Peanut butter cups, crystal bracelets and bottles of Kai in gift bags with a satin ribbon? Cheap-o! Lame-o!
 Elizabeth Hurley is busy making elaborate arrangements for her upcoming wedding to Arun Nayar. Although we discussed this at length and I reminded her of what happened to me when I rode a camel to a movie premiere wearing nothing but a g-string and tassels, (lots of chafing and burning) she insists on going ahead with arriving at her wedding atop an elephant. Will the bride wear white? Of course not! Liz plans on wearing bright red. She never does anything subtle, you know? If you know her like I do, you know she loves attention, thats why she is always wearing white, skin- tight pants and skimpy shirts that show her boobage. She has invited Elton John and Victoria Beckham to be bridesmaids. As for me, well, I'll just attend as a guest. As a wedding gift for the happy couple, I will buy a Yankee candle in Pumpkin Spice and a gift certificate to Macaroni Grill accompanied by a three month supply of Colon Blow. You know what they say, "An unconstipated couple is a happy couple!"
 Ashlee, old hair with no makeup. Ashlee Simpson loves sloppy seconds! You can call it boyfriends redux or even Salvation Army Exes maybe even Resale Male. After she poached Wilmer who was still warm from his relationship with Lindsay, Ashlee has now moved on to Scott Sartiano who happens to be Ashley Olsen's ex boyfriend and owner of hot spot, Butter. That's funny because my own club is called Crisco. Crazy, I know. I had to close Margerine down because it was too popular to be chic. Anyway, a source who was at the club saw Ashlee- not- Ashley- and Scott and her were like, totally together, wink wink. Next up: a date or two with Paris Hilton's porn buddy, Rick Saloman, a one night stand with Bruce Willis and then onto Hilary Duff's boyfriend. How about a little fooling around with Billy Bob Thorton? Then she can follow up with Cameron Diaz's ex, Jared Leto. The grand finale can be an affair with Kevin Federline! At this point, she can be in the gossip news all summer. Brilliant. And she's not even into Scientology or Kabbalah!
 Please do not confuse Ben "look at my penis" Affleck with Kevin "manpri" Federline. The two could easily be twins. They are both greasy and unwashed, wear Hanes tee shirts, ball caps and they smoke like a pre-eruptive volcano. The similarities to do end there! Oh no. They both enjoy the occasional stripper and get pleasure from activities offered in Las Vegas. But as Cletus puffs on his cancer sticks in front of Brit, I hope Ben chooses not to smoke around Jen. We should really call her Jerry. Ben & Jerry has such a nice ring to it, doesn't it?
 Hey guys, sex on legs Billy Bob Thorton wants you to know something. He is telling men not to ignore the unattractive crowd because those are the ones that might be wild stallions in bed. The uglier, the better and more feisty! Stop concentrating on the hotties with dyed hair and implants and give the revolting beauties a chance. Billy Bob tells Esquire magazine, "Sex doesn't have to be with a model to be good. As a matter of fact, sometimes with the model, the actress, the 'sexiest person in the world', it may be literally like f****** the couch. Don't count out the average-looking woman, or even maybe the slightly unattractive woman, or the really unattractive woman." Is he kind of saying that Angelina is a like a couch? How about a coin operated vibrating bed, that would be a better comparison. Thanks to Slingblade, the unsightly women of the world have a chance with actors, or at least have a chance with Billy Bob. Even though he is married, he still has a roving eye and won't turn down a hideously revolting beast who may actually know how to ride a man like a bucking bronco. Put your retainer in and your head- gear on and prepare to be romanced by Billy Bob!
 Cameron Diaz, out for a day of surfing. I'm glad she didn't trip and break anything this time. We know she can be quite clumsy. I wonder if she rode the short bus to school? In Monte Carlo, she stepped on a girls dress and got punched in the face by Coralie Eicholtz. The model attacked Cameron at Jimmy's nightclub after saying the "actress stood on her gown causing her to trip and fall". Coralie was miffed that Cam didn't have the manners to apologize and pummeled her with a right hook and then vowed to steal Justin Timberlake. Things we know about Cameron: she is rude, swears like a sailor, is clumsy, has body odor, is dirty, mean, has terrible skin. Anything else we should add to the list?
 Britney Spears has decided she wants to listen to the princess collection of Disney hits while she is in labor. Nothing can calm a laboring woman quite like a tune from The Little Mermaid. And A Whole New World provides a relaxation that no other music can. Just watch as her twelve pound pickles- and- ice cream fed daughter comes shooting out of the birth canal to a rousing rendition of Kiss The Girl. I hope Brit isn't planning on naming her daughter after a Disney character. I can totally see a Tinkerbell Lynne Federline, can't you? How about Mulan Pixie Dust Federline? Don't think she won't do it because she will. In related news, Britney continues to eat for three and Kevin is still smoking even though I've repeatedly warned him about second hand smoke harming the fetus. He doesn't really care about that though. He just asked if I knew of a place that sells jagged- edged manpris and puffy shoes, preferably with Velcro.
 I don't think she is going to get a Mother of the Year aware with this stunt. While Sharon Stone had a late night dinner in London, she left her four year old son sleeping in the car. If Scarlett Johansson was there, she would have been having sex in the backseat, so I guess things could have been worse. The chauffer was sitting in the car with the child, probably paging through tabloids and smoking a cigarette. Hot temperatures and flashing light bulbs from the paparazzi proved to be an unsafe place for the child to rest. That was a dumb thing to do considering she is gearing up for a custody battle with her ex husband over son Roan. How is this going to look in court, Sharon? Although her home was only a few miles away, I guess Sharon felt better knowing her son was sleeping in a car outside while she enjoyed a leisurely meal.
 Tee hee! Hi guys! Like, I'm totally wasted on the red carpet. Shhh. Don't tell my pa! Have you seen Jessica? Is she still in the limo with that guy who is not her husband? Oh...she's gonna get a whooping from dad! Why is she suddenly the bad girl? That's MY job, got it bitches? I'm gonna dye my hair Coal Black #465 Nice N Easy again. That was bad ass, punky hair and Im going for the mullet again. No one can stop me! And yes, I am sleeping with Wilmer. We are very serious. So, maybe Lohan can hook up with Ryan now. His hair always cut my hands anyway. Like knives sticking out of that head of his. Do you like my hair? It's extra flat. No one really cares about me, sniff, sniff. I need something that will put ME in the spotlight. Porn? No. Breast implants? No, I have DD's. Pole dancing? No, thats Jessica's job. Paris Hilton's friend? I already know her. Hmmmm. What can I do? I know! Where can I get a job as a beard? Does one of the Backstreet guys need a girlfriend? Would it be too sick if I started dating my brother in law?
 Jessica shows off her impression of a blow up doll while out with Nick. Are those two still married? Hasnt her father hammered out the details of the divorce settlement yet? I would like to send Jess a new pair of boots as a gift from moi. Cowboy boots are really swell on..like, cowboys and they come in handy while roping steer and moving bales of hay around the silo. Other than that, unless I'm wearing my leather chaps while riding on a mechanical bull while doing the Texas tush- push, I leave the boots in a darkened corner of my closet. I suggest Jessica close her mouth and find a pair of four- inch stiletto, patent leather, thigh- high, studded boots with a matching whip just like what I have. Trust me, it's a huge hit when I go to the clubs.
 Four people were arrested in a shooting of a different kind of shooting involving Tom Cruise during the London premiere of War of the Worlds. Tommy was attending the red carpet soiree with his fiancee, Katie...I wonder if Katie's babysitter was on hand? Hmmm. Anyway, they were speaking to reporters about the movie, cults and their upcoming wedding. All of the sudden, poor T-bone was squirted with a water gun created to look like a microphone. , The news explained it as a joke from an "upcoming British comedy show featuring practical jokes played on celebs." Hee hee hee! har har! Those wacky Brits! Thank goodness the Jackass boys didn't play a prank on Tom or else he would be covered in fecal matter and fire crackers with a partially shaved head. Naturally, Tom who is verging on the criminally insane and may be squired away in a straight jacket at any moment, was pissed! There's nothing like ruining perfectly feathered hair and a good suit jacket harvested from scientology fibers. Angry with no couch to jump on to relive the tension, he raised his fist and shook it furiously screaming, "That had better not be Kabbalah water!"
 This photo from Awful Plastic Surgery.com, Kelly Ripa. I spy a nose job? Any other thoughts? She is such a liar. Kelly swears she doesn't work out but I don't believe her at all! Toned legs, smooth stomach and strong arms do not come from pushing a kid on the swings. It comes from snorting coke in the dressing room. Just kidding! Not everyone in showbiz has a drug problem. Just most people. Like Regis.
 Elijah Wood is the new Harry Potter.
 Teri Hatcher, highschool photo. She looks like every other pretty girl cheerleader who was mean to me in school. I'm still reeling from the pain even many years later. I drown my sorrows with a highball full of liquor and weekly colonics. I think she might have had a nose job and perhaps some eye work. She has commented recently that she wants a boob job. Me too, Teri. Let's get that twofer from Dr. 90210.
 Angelina, the early years. She reminds me of the creepy girl behind the school with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth and a pack of razor blades in her pocket. Oh wait- hasn't changed that much, has she?
 Lindsay told me in an email that "fitty cent" wants to date her- oops that 50 Cent to you. Not Fifty CentS. She isn't interested in him. She wants to lick the tattoos on Eminems arms and inspire some bad words and dirty lyrics in the rapper. 50 called for Lindsays number and she says she was "freaking out". I know the feeling, sister. When Tom Cruise called me a few months back, I was freaking too. At first I thought it was a prank call but then I realized it was on the up and up when he asked if he could read my thetans and do something called the Dianetic- systemic- medulla oblongata-mind- body transfer. I said to him, "Hells no!" Lindsay commented on how hot M&M is and said she wants to date him and give birth to his love child. It's not like she is being a rebellious teen trying to get back at her druggie, partying mother or jailbird dad! No, choosing a controversial rapper to date is perfectly normal and obviously she wants to get it on with Eminem to uh...get back at Wilmer Vladiarrhea. Yeah! She'll show him!
 I was having quite the bad hair day and was without a hat, hence the pigtails. Also my makeup artist ran out for Starbucks and never returned, thats why I'm looking a little bit pale. I did the best I could with what I had and I think I look pretty cute. Green isn't the best color for me but I was told to be conservative. Eyes were to remain focused, not to be oogling my sexy legs. Angie, Condi and I got together to discuss world events and work on a budget for African aid. We also exchanged recipes and gabbed about the spring collections from our favorite designers. Later we met up for dinner and Condi and I watched with fascination while Angie showed us how she could swallow knives and stick forks in her eyes. It didn't do much for my appetite but wow, she is really talented.
 I should have been chosen for the new reality show I Want to Be a Hilton! Then I could have taught Kathy a thing or two, for example: how to mix the proper mojito, the correct way to make a vodkatini and getting the most out of your tabloid reading experience. A vast wealth of knowledge, I know. Instead, Kathy chose to spend time with Tommy Lee. Apparently Pammy never got around to teaching Tommy how to fold a napkin into a curly toed boot or a swan. Tommy joined Mrs. Hilton at the Beverly Wilshire hotel where the two devoured crumpets and tea along with finger sandwiches and danced to a five piece string quartet. The two were celebrating their reality shows. Tommy one night, Kathy the next. Does life get any better? Sadly, Michael Jackson was not there to celebrate his new reality show which he is desperately trying to shop around. Something about watching Wacko Jacko spooks the majority of television executives. Anyway, Tommy and Kathy enjoyed a lovely tea together and talked trash about Tara Reid and Lindsay Lohan. Later Tommy apologized for his lack of manners, but invited Mrs. Hilton to see his oversized drumstick. He then presented her with an authographed merkin.
 Is Nick: a.) passing a kidney stone b.) trying to get a block of cement through his sphincter c.) singing d.) having a heart attack Bloated, uncoordinated Nick Carter was seen groping and kissing a woman at Suede during the Backsteet Boys "Never Gone" release party. He is supposed to be dating Brittny Gastineau but I guess they have an open relationship since he was spotted getting nasty with another chickie. I do not know from first hand experience, but I would venture to guess that Nick is a sloppy kisser like P. Diddy. While Diddy might drool, I have reason to believe Nick is just sloppy and slobbery and possibly has Red Bull breath. Later, Nick went to another club looking for more girls to infect with his backstreet cooties. Was he successful? I don't know or care. I think there might be a Paris Hilton-Nick Carter porn tape circulating through the underground sex shops. It's only a matter of time until it shows up behind the red door at your favorite video rental place. Even if I have a free coupon, I think I'll pass on that one.
 Hilary Duff is finally coming out about her relationship with rocker Joel Madden. We've witnessed his purse holding and dog walking for his sweetie but it's never been spelled out for us, the ignorant public. I thought he was her babysitter actually. But it's not so, the two are getting it ON. Seventeen year old Hilary only has one more year until she can legally have sexual intercourse with Joel. She is crossing out the days on her Polly Pocket calendar. Just a few more months! The two have been dating since last year, like duh! We know! Hilary and Joel will be appearing together at the video music awards in August. If you recall, Hilary was part of the bitter teenage love triangle regarding Aaron "ziggy stardust" Carter and that hellcat, Lindsay Lohan. That was really tough for me to witness. First of all, Aaron looks like he's about eleven and there is nothing cute or sexy about the prepubescent chest of a young boy. Second, if you're going to fight over a man, make sure he shaves and has a fat bank account. I'm really happy for Hilary. Her veneers may be a little big for her mouth and her sister may look like Dick Van Dyke but she really is a nice, innocent girl who loves puppies and rainbows and sleeps under a unicorn bedspread.
 Early hours of the morning, scene is the Eiffel Tower. Tom whispers to Katie, "You know what we have to do. The PR people over at the 'center' say this will quiet everyone down. We have to do this- no one believes we're in love. This will make everyone believe what we have is real. Don't worry, in five years we can get a divorce." Katie: And you promise I'll get more leading lady roles and be a top box office draw? Will they really call me America's Sweetheart now? Tom: Yep. This reminds me so much of when Nic and I got engaged. Except now, I've come so far and can really lay it on thick. My acting coach and vitamins and that stuff they pump into me over at the center really helps. You're going to love the next step of thetanization. Jessica: Tom, we don't talk about what goes on in the Scientology technology operation room. That's off limits. Tom: So, to make it official, Katie, we're getting married. Sooner is better. End of summer. Baby in the fall. Let's see...the PR people will determine when its best for my career to actually get married. Katie: okay. Jessica, into her hand held tranmitter: All right. I'ts done, call the press, issue statements. (turns to Tom) We need an official quote. Say something about Katie being.. oh I don't know...say she's magnificent. I need something here, Tom. We have to get this into the papers by morning. Tom: Holy Dianetics! This is hard. Well, okay. Just say "today is a magnificent day for me, I'm engaged to a magnificent woman," he shrugs. Will that work? Why didn't someone type this out for me? I do better with a script and hours of prep. Katie: And you're sure I'll be earning more money now and getting better roles? I'm going to totally change my name to Katie Cruise! Oh and Tom? Stop grabbing me and putting your hand on my stomach. It's like, creepy.
 This is Jennifer Aniston pre-nose job. The bigger the nose, the better to snort coke with! I don't know what's going on with the Jen-Brad-Angie triangle. Yes, Brad cheated. No he didn't. The Vanity Fair interview has not taken place yet or has it? Jen wanted kids. Brad and Angie are not together. It's enough to make me crazy. I need a vodkatini with extra vodka and a side of gin when I hear the rumors. Seriously, the mental games these people are playing has sent me to a hypnotherapist and I had to re-feng shui my house again. I don't know what to think! All I know is the nose job Jen had done was a success and I don't know how cute her kids with Brad would have been if the little ones had been on the receiving end of that nose.
 Mena Suvari has been Cynthia Nixonized. She hangs with a girlfriend (?) who looks like the cousin of the chick Cynthia is living with. Personally, I think they make a fine couple. I would like to remind you that those rubbery Lance Armstrong bracelets are over and its time to move on to the next trend. If I see any of you wearing one, I will turn my head and pretend we aren't closely aquainted. If Mena wasn't getting what she needed from that husband of hers who was like thirty five years older than her, then I hope she is satisfied with her new relationship. And if the girlfriend can get that spot removed from her shirt, all the better although some people love a sloppy eater. On a side note, while delighting in a crab salad and iced tea with a single mint leaf at the Ivy, I was told by my server than Mena is one of the meanest (Meana, Mena) celebs that come in to dine. tsk tsk. Mena, the number one rule of being a "celebrity" is to be kind to everyone, even the busboy and the bikini waxer. Where are your manners, chica?
 I've been completely flooded with emails about the new trend in fashion: the merkin. Thanks for all the questions and comments and I'm certain your diamond studded, crystal encrusted merkins will be available at all Target stores throughout the United States and Canada soon! Jessica so kindly volunteered (with the permission of her father who is also a merkin fan) to model an opposum merkin on the outside of her clothes so we could all observe what the fuss is about. Now I don't know if she is already merkin owner because of her recent outbreak of syphilis or just because I let her think it was the hottest thing going and wanted to have a chuckle at her expense. I think it's rather flattering, don't you?
 Nicole Richie poses for a Marc Jacobs ad. If Marc only knew the identity of Distressed Jeans, he would be all up in my grill, begging for me to wear his clothes all the time. Darling, some day...until then, Nicole wears his clothes including a gigantic gray merkin to keep her shoulders warm. I hope she is aware her heel is about snap in half and cause her to fall. I want a picture of that.
 Ashton, hillbilly style. He just finished up a glass of Countrytime Lemonade with Bartles and Jaymes down at the general store. Now he be goin trout fishin wit his dog. He be up in Idaho for a coupla munts. He be lettin that beard (not Katie) grow and boy, does it feel good not to shave. He bard a pair of Demi's overalls. He be fixin to take a stroll through the woods, see, and he don't know his pikshur is gonna turn up all over that thing called the intranet by tomorra. Later, he take that there trakter out for a ride if it don't got a flat tar. At night when them crickets come out, he be gettin his banjo out and him and Bruce Willis, they gunna do a dueling banjo thing. They better not be too loud or somebody gonna call the po-leece.
 Kathy and Rick Hilton are really quite poor. Aside from staying at Hilton hotels for free, the Hilton family only pulls in a few million dollars and just barely gets by on a trust fund and free merchandise. No wonder why I saw Kathy in the grocery store asking to have her coupons doubled. I was all, what the heck-? And then an article from Radar online put it all together for me. Suddenly the scads of missing free clothes at Sundance make perfect sense. There are so many Hiltons in the world- including my cousin twice removed, Vicky Hilton, that each Hilton is only due a few mil. How can one hobnob with the jet-setting Hampton crowd on only a measly couple of million? Oh the shame. Slap me with a monogrammed Dickey, this is too gauche to believe! But Paris, oh our lovely Paris. A hard working girl, she generates her own revenue and earned an estimated $10 million last year including all the free hamburgers she can eat. No wonder why her mom is suddenly her best friend. It's the Simple Life- mother and daughter season! With their daughter engaged to the very wealthy and incredibly well hung Latsis feta cheese and filo dough heir, Kathy and Rick Hilton will finally be able to move freely in the upper crust of society and be confident that they really are wealthier than most peons. Kathy can finally stop hiring illegal aliens to work in the yard and house. They can import pretty blondes from Sweden to work in the house. Look for Paris to get pregnant shortly after the wedding which will ensure her place on the Latsis bankroll and will allow her parents to go yachting, keep their summer home in the Hamptons and send the younger Hiltons to private boarding schools. Kathy is sewing Paris's dress as I type and Nicky is hand beading the gown, the two trying to rush things along before Paris L. backs out of the deal. Has he seen her toes?
 Fans of Michael Jackson, rejoice! There is a gold pot of animal dung at the end of his Peter Pan rainbow. You just may be able to catch Wacky in Las Vegas if you are lucky. On your way home from Celine Dion's concert extravaganza, stop in at the New Frontier Hotel and Casino and pop in for a little Man in the Mirror! Donald Trump, or Big Daddy as I call him, and his Las Vegas partners are hoping MJ decides to move to Las Vegas and sign on for a long term deal a la Wayne Newton. I think Circus Circus would be a more fitting venue, but the owners of the hotel are worried about Mike fondling the elephants and clowns. I would be concerned about making his moonshine Jesus juice in his dressing room as well. It's a valid concern. Better yet, since Jackson is practically white, give him a wig and let him take over Roy's place in the Siegfreid and Roy show at the Mirage! Or he can room with the dolphins and tigers and live behind a glass case where people view him on display like a three headed man with one eyeball. The possibilities are positively endless. He can stand in for himself over at the wax museum, give gondola rides at the Venetian, be a mummy at the Luxor, dress up in a knights costume at the Excalibur, be a toga wearing Roman at Caesars- well maybe not that one. Wacko Jacko could draw in more than $80 million if he sets up camp in Vegas. Ka-ching! Ka-ching! Alcohol in soda cans and camel rides for everyone!
 This dress is squishing my implants. And my hair looks like seaweed. But I can open my mouth really wide, see? Why does she remind me of Carol Channing? Even the girl next to her is like, "You put it where?" Oh mah gah! It was all a joke? When Bam Margeras girlfriend called that radio station announcing Bam and Jessica got down and naked, it was all one big publicity stunt. Personally, I'm offended! How could they do this to me? I was getting all fired up on Nick's behalf, feeling sorry for him and sending him a big sympathy fruit basket and a collection of my greatest blog entries. And then we learn its all a hoax? Just like Paris and Paris's (should we call them Pari? Like fungi?) wedding registry at Macy's. And after I chose a set of Calvin Klein sheets with a plastic cover! Next you're going to tell me that Joe Simpson's nervous breakdown and furious gnashing of teeth over Lindsay being mean to Jessica (boohooo! What are we like, fifteen?) was just a act too. Aren't there any sincere people in entertainment anymore? I mean, besides me and Paris?
Scientomogy
 Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Tom is so cuckoo for Katie that he has a babysitter for her. Jessica is hired to watch Katie's every move and to warn her about what she can and cannot talk about. Allowed topic of conversation: Scientology, Tom Cruise, War of the Worlds and one succinct sentence about Batman. Not allowed: anything involving the signed documentation attaching her to Tom for the next five years, including one child borne to Katie via sperm donor and inclusion in three of Tom's next movies but not Mission Impossible 3 which is now staring Keri Russell. The watcher is actually a Church of Freakology representative who is monitoring Katie's press interviews and speaking into a hand- held radio, receiving instruction from Tom and a band of aliens who have come down from their mother planet to view an early filming of War of the Worlds. Jessica, the watcher/handler/spy/brainwasher is on Toms payroll and stays so close to Katie, she actually comes in the bathroom stall with her and wipes with a specially approved, L. Ron Hubbard toilet paper called Hubbies. Warner Brothers is trying to be nice about Katie's human appendage, but it's getting tiresome having a third wheel tag along to the press junkets and interrupt the interviews. Plus, it's just weird to have a nanny at age twenty six. How can Katie snort her coke and do her colon cleanse with Jessica noting her actions and faxing reports to Tom? Is nothing sacred? It's time to release Katie from her hostage and return her to Dawson's Creek.
 Esther is furiously trying to backpedal and explain her controversial ways before she found religious comfort in Kabbalah. She says, "Sometimes I was being overtly sexual for the sake of showing off when I didn't need to be." Hindsight is 20/20, right Madge? She goes on to say she pushed her sexy image too far and that in the end, she hurt herself and misled her fans. "Ultimately, none of us wants to be judged, or approved of, or loved because of the way we look, or how sexy we are." Er... Madge, darling? I live for judgement and approval! Why do you think I go to the hair salon and have a color expert touch up my roots every 2.5 weeks? Why do I have a personal trainer here making me do countless lunges and squats? And then lastly, I wear couture so people love me for being well, a fashionista. And I'm naked and wearing a merkin because, well a designer mink merkin is so chic! The demure and pious mother of two continues her self righteous lotsa de bullshitta by saying, "I was letting it pump up my ego, thinking aren't I great? They're writing about me, my picture's on the cover of every magazine, I'm so fabulous." But but but oh virtuous writer of childrens books and wearer of button up shirts and linguist who speaks in a faux British accent, wasn't it only a short while ago that you were kissing Britney and Christina at the music video awards? But, you have changed since then. It's all about being reserved, truthful and honest now. Future plans include a Kabbalah inspired record of folksy kids music, a recipe book and a pattern book of quilts and table linens. Madonna: champion of the conservatives!
 Several years ago Demi Moore caused a stir when she appeared on the cover of Vanity Fair magazine, pregnant and nude. Everyone was in an uproar over her controversial cover shot. As for me, I posed naked for a magazine holding nothing but a pencil and some well placed erasers and no one complained. Or cared. Demi is set to pose nude again, this time with Ashton "the kooch" Kutcher. On the Vanity Fair cover, not Playgirl. I guess they only thing those two will be wearing is their matching Kabbalah strings. Who cares? If they add a naked Brad and Angie then maybe I'll buy a copy. A fold out centerfold of Angelina and I'll buy two copies. One for in my dressing room and another for my walk in closet with mirrors, lights and a smoke machine. Of course we know Demi is pregnant although she is trying to remain all mysterious about her status. My hairdressers friend up in Los Angeles who knows a herbalologist, is friends with a tooth analyst whose cousin is Demi's color therapist says that Demi is totally expecting and it's a girl. Those oversized cowl neck sweaters and baggy pants are fooling no one. Ashton and Demi are supposedly planning a secret Las Vegas wedding which I will crash if there is free lobster and Cristal champagne and gift bags with a value of one thousand dollars. I think it would be cool if Bruce Willis dressed up as Elvis and officiated the ceremony. The two lovebirds, whose marriage I give about four years, commissioned wedding rings from Neil Lane. The rings will be enscribed with the old Kabbalah saying: Abudnahd lesh al uhm bagdasho schminky, which roughly translated means "Younga de mana wit de olda lady".
 Dressing like a macaw is very hip this season! Paris wears the remains of a wildlife perserve. Paris Hilton is tired of living her life in the public- and pubic- eye. Obviously. We never ever see her dressed up wearing a tiara or doing anything publicity-worthy such as, oh I don't know...being on television or in magazines? Clearly she is training herself to be a suburban housewife who has 2.5 children all named Paris and dogs named after Disney characters. She wants to settle down by age 26 and plans to be a doting wife to mega wealthy Paris Latsis. She will do it all: Hire a maid, cook, gardener, groundskeeper, full time masseuse, dog trainer, pet groomer, astrologist, feng shui specialist and an aromatherapy coach and of course a personal assistant and assistant's assistant to over see her homes in all corners of the world. Paris told Newsweek magazine, a periodical I read religiously, "I thought it was cute to play a dumb blonde. On TV, I do it because it's funny. I consider myself a businesswoman and a brand. I don't enjoy going out anymore." Golly Paris, then why are you photographed stumbling out of the nightclubs looking coked out of your blonde extensioned head? She goes on to say, "It's such a pain. It's everyone saying, 'Let's do a deal! Can I have a picture?' I'm just, like, 'These people are such losers. I can't believe I used to love doing this.'" Are you calling me a loser? Just because I hunted you down in the dressing room at Kitson and took a picture of you trying on a cashmere beaded skirt and matching four hundred dollar sweater with diamond appliques? I thought we used to be friends! Paris, how could you? You used to love being with me. Remember all the times we made fun of poor people and danced on the bar tops with nothing but a g-string on? You wore a merkin...oh, the good old days. Being a serious working gal myself, taking my life in a new direction has been tres rewarding. You are going to love not having your photos in all the papers and being on television all the time. What? You're doing another "Simple Life"? Way to get a jump on avoiding the spotlight. Well, you've got two years until you "settle down".
 Ben Affleck should rename himself Ben Penisflek because everything I read about him lately deals with whipping out his private parts. I was a little offended last time he came over for poker night. I had to be in therapy for months to help me deal with the traumatic stress of what I saw. What happened was this: when I asked if anyone needed a beverage- you know, like a Pellegrino, bellini or a gold plated goblet of Cristal- I saw a flaccid flesh flute on the table and a giggling Ben asked if I had a straw for it. I almost threw up on my Stark carpet and all over my Manolos. "That is revolting!" I cried and he and George Clooney high-fived each other, much to my disgust. I think Britney Spears, with her pickle fetish, should stay away from Ben for fear of what he will try to pass off as a gerkin. I'm not the only victim of Ben's teenagerish shenanigans involving his genetalia. He teased Christina Applegate when they were filming Surviving Christmas. She recalls with horror "They were doing a shot of a briefcase and Ben just decided to put his 'stuff' on the case. It was gross. He would always do stupid things like that." While that crude humor was lost on J. Lo, Jennifer Garner loves to play hide the testicles and pin the tale on the ball sacs. A match made in juvenile prankster heaven!
 Scarlett and Josh Harnett. She hopes they go steady soon! Last time Scarlett Johansson and I got together we talked about guys and sex, and you know, normal girly chit chat. I told her my secret fantasy involving Lucky jeans, Jimmy Choo shoes, leather chaps and a belt made from faux leather along with a crowded, dark strip club playing Whitesnake tunes. She just blushed and told me she wasn't as vulgar as I was. Whatever! Yesterday as I was scrolling through the web, I came across an article of her gabbing about her ultimate fantasy. Oh sure, she blabs her big mouth to Playboy magazine but can't confide in me? When I read the article I understood why she was hesitant to tell me her thoughts. Yes, I would have laughed- really hard. She thinks, "having sex in a car is sexy. If I were in a really raunchy frame of mind and thinking of doing something crazy and kinky and sexy, the back seat would be it." Back seat? That's so uncreative. Unless she's talking about being blindfolded and dripping hot candle wax and wearing studded thigh high boots in the back of a Hummer limo while sheep and monkeys watch. I wonder what kind of car Josh Harnett drives? Maybe its a station wagon, wink wink.
 Is Nicole Kidman: a.) a ghost b.) auditioning for a Shakespeare play c.) getting ready for bed d.) really a Victorian doll whose head is about to fall off? e.) wearing curtains f.) about to be beamed up into the L Ron Hubbard mother craft? g.) wishing she didnt have botox in her forehead h.) wondering if Mystic Tan is open late i.) at the premiere of her new movie?
 Happy Birthday to the twins. I especially baked them a heroin laced colon blow cake with a dusting of coke and a powdered sugar topping. Enjoy, girls! I'm sure they will. I rummaged through the Salvation Army bin- yes, the one marked "drop off only" behind the Kmart. I found a really "cute" mens flannel shirt and a "darling" pair of oversized Wrangler jeans and an old knit scarf as well as a yellowed white blouse that smelled like mold and some flip flops for MK. Tried to find a hair accessory but had no luck, all I came up with was a broken brush with missing bristles and I think she owns one of those. I wrapped the goods in a pile of wet newpaper and let Anna Wintour, my bulldog, trample on it in her high heeled mules. Thought I would spring for a carton of cigarettes for the girls as well. Ashley was a bit harder to buy for, she can be so picky! I ended up getting her one of her own shirts from WalMart- but not before I donned over- sized glasses, a wig and a trenchcoat, cannot be seen in such a place! You know how the paparazzi follows me! I learned WalMart does not carry, nor have they heard of, Laura Mercier cosmetics. The seventy five year old "greeter" had never heard of Juicy Tubes either. The shirt I bought Ash is created from a man- made material, ending just above the navel and is adorned with cheap lace and beads. Thought she would get a kick out of that. Being as though the girls are not yet twenty one and cannot you know, go clubbing and drinking, I took it upon myself to buy them a six pack of Bartles and Jaymes wine coolers and a bottle of Boones Farm wine. I'm certain they will appreciate my kindess.
 Dear Diary, Maid woke me up. Put on my tiara. Ordered breakfast. Ate half a piece of toast. I look fat. Must starve self. Looked in mirror. Very hot. Fixed extensions. Looked in mirror. Had makeup artist over. Where am I going? Who cares. I look hot! Had stylist choose my dress and bra inserts. Haven't had period in a year. Pregnant? Will name baby Paris. Hot name. Looked in mirror. Smiled. Counted money and got lost in closet. Put lipgloss on. Talked on sequined pink cell phone. I love Paris! And love Paris- boyfriend too. Wondered where I was going? Had makeup person and hair person get me ready. Took photos of self with camera phone. Will post on Inet. later. Took pic. of my ***** too. Mother carried Pretty Pony umbrella. Nicky glued feathers on it. M. wore drapes from Palm Beach house. Embarrassed! Looked like Elton John. Guy who is friends with Posh Spice. Parade for what? Did they say parade or Prada? For gays? Gays are hot. Didn't think so when I said it was gross on Simple Life to see men kissing. Everyone forgot about that -oops! Note to self: pretend to be dumb. Fixed makeup. Looked in mirror. Blotted nose. More gloss. Flipped hair. Combed hair. Played with hair. More lipgloss. How long is this thing? Need to get home. Going to see Paris. Love him sooo much. More money than our family. Ka-ching! Will have more money than N. and poor fat skinny boyfriend. Looked in mirror and smiled. Will never have to work. Am rich. And pretty. And skinny. Hot! Read book about self at parade. Signed books. Smiled and looked in mirror. Said "hot" six hundred times. Need to find new word- Sexy? Went home, had massage. Pedi. Mani. Ex-lax. Took nap. Woke up and called maid. Needed teeth brushed and flossed. Went out with Paris. Talked about me all night. Told him to throw jean shorts in trash. Note to self: buy jean factory. Note to self: buy Nicole Richie.
 Nothing sets my loins a-tingle like Gary Coleman. When he sputters, "Whachoo talkin' bout, Willis?" I just lose it and need a cold bath. And obviously there are people out there that agree with me because lil' Gary beat out Mac "Michael Jackson is my friend, wink wink" Culkin and Drew Barrymore on Vh1's 100 Greatest Kid Stars. In fact, pint sized Gary was numero uno! Take that, Danny Bonaduce! I guess I can come out of the closet and announce I supported Gary in his bid for California governor, didn't you? I had tee shirts, pins, signs and posters as well as lunchboxes and thermos' to show my support. Sure it clashes with my Prada and Dior but we cannot be fashionistas and be political at the same time! Anyone who can make a sexy commercial for a cash loan company which came on the heels of his super hot, "ride my choo choo" phone call, deserves to be head of state.
 Oddly, he looks like Mischa Barton I don't know much about Hayden Christensen other than people are constantly arguing over if he is gay or not. Lets see: if he proclaims his undying adoration for another actress and jumps up and down on a couch like a maniac on speed- then yes- he probably is. I wouldn't mind being friends with Hayden. We could get pedicures or go to Fred Segal, maybe even go for a colonic irrigation and have vodkatinis afterwards. Next year we could be marshalls in the gay pride parade together and we could share feather boas and paint each others nails on a float of flowers. I mean, if he's up for it of course. But only if he agrees to an antibacterial bath and a blast from a hot shower. According to Jake Gyleennhallehell, Hayden was so stinky during the production of a play the two were in Jake commented, "He didn't wash his clothes for the entire run of the show. On the last night, I accidentally put my arm in his armpit during a fight scene and, even after showering, couldn't get rid of the smell. It was gross." Before we hit the town like two wild femmes, I might have to tuck an extra sticks of Soft n' Dri into my Birkin bag. I'm just that kind of girl- thoughtful and allergic to onion scented armpits.
 A troika of beards Tom Cruise cannot stay out the news and since it's more fun than playing with my Ogilvie home perm kit, I'm not going to stop writing about him. He is now revealing getting engaged to Katie "will happen, man." Tom also wants us to know Katie "digs" Scientology. Then he said that Katie was far out and being a couple was groovy. He presented his lava lamp, collection of bell bottoms and peace signs to her while using more 60's slang. And Katie likes talking about Tom. She has her script memorized: "He's amazing and I love him," she regurgitated in her monotone, robotic voice. Obviously, the brain washing and the micro chip in her skull are working beautifully. When they are not together, Tom has her programmed and can work his remote control to manipulate her every move like a life-size android. The antenna is well hidden by her long dark hair and can fold up for easy retraction into her anal cavity. In related news, Star Jones wants to arrange a meeting with Katie. Not to force her feet into vinyl Payless loafers but to give guidance on how to be a proper beard. There is a protocol for this and Star is privy to the ins and outs of being employed as such. Wheezing and stuttering: optional.
 Ahhhh! I violently flinched when I saw this photo of Anna Nicole. In order to calm my stomach and relax my twisty bowels, I needed a jigger of vodka and a trip to the bathroom. I think Anna was sleeping in a vat of self tanning lotion and nesting on a pile of newspapers. Did she cut her coke with Trimspa? Get drunk off a Red Bull-heroin cocktail? This girl is loaded! And dirty. But that's besides the point. Personally I favor a hot shower, a skin care regime and a Mason Pearson hairbrush through my long and lustrous locks. Anna Nicole let a hoard of pigeons sit on her head. She topped off the look with Mardi Gras beads and a Hello Kitty bracelet. I don't know if this photo was taken before or after she wrote this weeks column for the Enquirer. But in case she didnt fax over this weeks articles, I just want to say that, you know. I'm available. And clean. And can write.
 I don't know what it is about Kirsten Dunst. Maybe it's because we didn't bond last time we drank margaritas and did body shots at Nacional. Maybe it's because I snuck a can of self-tanner into her backpack when we ran into each other at the Mondrian and she was pissed off when I called her Casper. At least I did not mention her baby teeth. I did however, send a brochure for dental care to her house. Whatever. Clearly we are never going to be best friends. With that being said, I still think she looks like she rolled out of her crypt into yesterdays clothes which had been laying on the floor. Something tells me that she smells like dirty underwear and sweat socks. But Jake Gylellnhaldhehall doesn't seem to mind. They were spotted together recently and despite her cleaning lady chic clothes and unwashed hair, he still likes being with her. She must have really good... conversational skills.
 I think we should come out with a bunch of celebrity books along the lines of Lotsa de Casha. Madonna is brilliant but it's not fair for only one celebrity to come out with a best seller. Feel free to add your own. Tom Cruise: Uppa de Assa Britney Spears: Washa de Haira Cameron Diaz: Pimpla on de Cheeka Katie Holmes: Tomsa Bearda Kevin Federline: Whita de Trashola Meg Ryan: Droopa de Booba MK Olsen: Coka in de Nosa Lindsay Lohan: Skinna de Bitcha Paris Hilton: Loosa de Coocha
 After working out, Jennifer Lopez Anthony hops in her car. She hopes to avoid any paparazzi that might catch her with a load in her pants. What? Oh those are only pockets? Then why is she wearing them? I try to skip the clothes that add another ten pounds to my peach-like booty but in Jen's case, the bigger the butt, the better. She reminds me of one of those donkeys that carry a bunch of bags up the Grand Canyon. I hope she has her trail mix and water bottles as well as a flashlight full of baked beans in those saddlebags.
 Michael Jackson hopes to gain the support of all the Mexicans living in California as his trial comes to an end. He wears a vest fashioned out of a serape and a matching arm band as a shout out to our Mexican brothers and sisters. Very Pier 1 Imports! Bobby Brown might enjoy using a heavy handed dose of Preparation H on his under eye bags, but I would like to suggest the butt cream for something else: anal fissures. Michael Lohan says Michael Jackson will no doubt be needing a remedy for the anal loving antics of the other prison inhabitants.
 Kevin Federline: the early years. I love his Rosie O'Donnell one sided bob hair cut. He was always known for his pretty tresses. I'd like to see him with a buzz cut, something really short with long mutton chop side burns and a soul patch. Hotness! Kevin is just hot anyway you cut his hair, you know? And Britney says sex before was awesome but now it's even better! Makes you wonder what kind of tricks Kevin knows. Suddenly he's kind of sexy, even in his high school years.
 "Hey bitch! Like, what are you wearing today? Are we like, totally going to wear those dresses and cowboy boots again? Like, fer sure! And carry your big leather bag. Did you remember to tuck the coke into the side pocket or did you do the coke-in- a- condom-up- your- ass trick I taught you? Oh my gosh, you are like so freaking brilliant! Yes, I'll throw up before I leave the house. No no, I didn't eat today, okay..I had just one piece of - what? Carbs? Like no way! I had lettuce. Promise you won't eat? Okay. see you soon! Buh-bye!" Nicole and Lindsay pretend to be full after having lunch somewhere that costs more than my electricity bill for the month. See the way Linds has her hand on her stomach as if to say, "I ate too much, tee hee!" Don't worry she will either ex-lax it out or vomit it up. She has a 200 calorie limit and water has how many calories? Nicole Richie told me that she plans to have elephants and swans at her wedding which is such an adorable idea. I hope she rents those pink elephants from the circus. Animals in captivity at weddings, is there anything that says "I love you" quite like a smelly, peanut snuffing pachaderm? I didn't think so. I gave her a few ideas on what she could do with the enormous shit the animal will leave behind including scooping it up and sending it to Paris Hilton in a Williams Sonona box. After she was done laughing at my smart idea, she then sobered up and told me, "You're still not invited to the wedding, bitch."
 If Christina tinted her hair a light blue and drove a '71 teal Chevy Impala with a tissue box in the rear window, she would look just like my Aunt Frieda who lives in Palm Beach Florida. Aunt F loves to play canasta with the ladies and wear huge plastic sunglasses with her tacky, oversized clip- on earrings and poly blend sweaters. In related news, Christina Aguilera music is being playing as a form of torture in Gitmo Bay. And in even more related news, Christina has one again stated that Britney Spears is not invited to her wedding. Take that, Mrs. Federline! Who wants an ice cream slurping, pickle eating, white trash, zit faced has been at their nuptials? Not Christina! Christina has made no mention of inviting Distressed Jeans to her wedding but I am confident that while I may be snubbed by Nicole Richie, I will most certainly be on the guest list for Christina's soiree. And this time, I promise not to hit on the groomsmen or get drunk and do the Macarena while stripping down to my g-string. That was something I'll never live down after I attended my last celebrity wedding.
 What's cuter than Lindsay Lohan doing blow off her own clavicle in the bathroom of a nightclub? Why, her middle aged mother taking it off for Playboy magazine, of course. You were going to totally say that weren't you? Tired of whoring her daughters out for fame, Dina is taking matters into her own hands. She hopes to lay spread eagle on a bed of pink feathers while being totally naked. It would be only too cool to have an anorexic, strung out daughter and be working on your own career, fine tuning yourself for a stint at the Midnight Bunny Ranch in another few years. When I hung out in the grotto over at Hef's house, I got really tired of c-list actors trying to come on to me all the time. I couldn't even sit in the hot tub without a flesh kabob being offered to me. Finally even the lure of free drinks and viewing incredibly fake implants wasn't enough to tear me away from my four poster bed and a good book with a large bottle of vodka. I just checked in my magical crystal ball and you would not believe what I saw. Charlie Sheen and Dina Lohan. Yes. Can't you see it now? It's only a matter of time. While Lindsay continues her spiral into the abyss of being a drug addicted mess with no one to take care of her, her own mother will be waking up in a Charlie Sheen's condo with her underwear on inside out.
 That Ben Affleck is such a prankster. Although the following story really makes me rethink my sanity when I had that affair with him so many years ago. All I can say is that I was drunk and had not yet found my way in life. According to an article, Ben liked playing jokes on the set of Jersey Girl, that bad film not to be confused with the even worse Gigli, that also starred Jennifer Lopez. Director Kevin Smith lived in fear because he never know what prank Ben was going to pull out- literally. Kevin says, "Every once in a while I'd feel something on my neck. I'd be like, 'What the f**k was that?' And I'd turn around and he'd have his scrotum out and resting on my neck." Isn't that a tad..uh, personal? I mean Ben could have touched Kevin's ear with his big toe and the disgust factor would still be there. But his scrotum? Makes you wonder what kind of pranks he pulled on Matt Damon? See, that's why things between Ben and I never worked out. I'm far too refined for such juvenile behavior. I'm more of a "pull my finger" kind of gal. I wonder how Jennifer II feels about taking care of two kids?
 You can do anything you want when you have Lotsa de casha. Case in point: Madonna has big plans to open a Kabbalah center in an upper crust section of London. She says you don't need lots of the cash to be happy but puh-leeze. Shut your yap and go back to wearing pointy bras and singing. Esther, her Kabbalah name, dropped millions on a piece of property where she plans to invite people over for meditations and chanting. Remember that awful monk chanting cd that climbed the charts several years ago? Gosh that sucked. Her neighbors are all up in arms over her big plan which I call Operation Red String. An unnamed local commented, "Having a Kabbalah center would be totally inappropriate. It is a seriously manipulative sect which is very good at getting people's money, including Madonna's." Operation Red String is also set to take flight in New York. I called both Demi and Ashton but haven't heard back. I don't expect to, with what happened last time Ashton tried to tie a red string around my wrist and I recoiled in fear. And Demi was pissed when I refused the gift of the all white tracksuit. A simple pair of Jimmy Choos would be nice but even that wouldn't get to me wear a red string around my wrist. This wrist was made for diamonds and rubies, not knitting yarn touched by Guy and blessed by Esther.
 Jessica Simpson is such a creative slut- I mean- genius. At least that's the word on the street. The two timing pop star is about to debut her line of clothes called "JS by Jessica Simpson". Love the name. I can't wait for Britney to produce "BS by Britney Spears". And Jess wants the consumers, meaning the teenage girls with their parents money to spend, to know that she is like "totally involved with everything that has my name on it." Thank goodness! She also mentions how she has a wonderful style all her own and everyone always asks her for help getting dressed. Sure. It was her idea to put a photo of chicken and fish on a tee shirt and show a question mark between them. Pure gold, people. I anticipate a buffalo wing with a question mark over it and following that, a photo of her and Nick with a question mark between them. The money hungry singer who loves to talk in a baby voice and look constipated while singing, has been "guaranteed $4.5 million first year royalty payments." Now Nick won't have to bitch about her spending $800 on a set of sheets they will never have sex on. A line of low rise jeans, low enough to show off your pubic hair, and frilly tops to showcase your boobs- big or small- will be available at Macy's. A second label, called "Princy" will include more expensive garments but most likely the same poor quality and crappy designs, will be available at Dillards. I suggest shopping at Wet Seal and Buckle for cute clothes. I'm am boycotting the Jessica Simpson clothing line on principle alone. I do not need to give this girl more money and would prefer to throw my cash around places that are not attached to a celebrity. Unless Angelina comes out with a line of crotchless leather underwear with studs, then I'll open my wallet and my legs. Whoops! Just kidding.
 Hilary Duff may get that lucrative Candie's deal yanked out from underneath her high heeled feet if they catch a glimpse of the hodge podge she is wearing. Obviously she borrowed a maternity shirt from Britney Spears, ignoring the advice I constantly spew about non- pregnant chicks wearing empire waist shirts and dresses. Hilary went to that place that adversises "100% Korean Hair Extension!" and had an illegal immigrant weave beads into her hair. Realizing she was cold, she grabbed a pair of leg warmers on her way out the door, not understanding the finesse of pulling off such a look. The legwarmers aren't supposed to be yanked up your thighs like crotchless pants. She did add a wooden bangle which is tres chic this season. To call her a fashionista is quite a stretch. I doubt she is wearing a mini-skirt under the shirt which is doubling as a dress but how I hope she was thoughtful enough to wear underpants. Is she picking a wedge?
Tomchurian Candidate
 Katie, outside of the David Letterman show. I certainly wished she had called me before she wore those shoes. I feel that a black sandal would be much more suitable. I did email her a quick letter letting her know I did not approve of her ensemble. I got back an invitation to have my thetan something or other cleansed and she offered to insert an emeter into my skull. I answered back by offering to take her out for coffee where I planned to drug and kidnap her and then deprogram her with the help of a top CIA official who specializes in cults and strange couch- humping behavior. When I asked Katie to meet me at Starbucks on Melrose, she declined saying Tom implanted a tracking device in her wrist and they had a meeting with L. Ron Hubbard and then a pie eating contest with Kirstie Alley. Oh that was mean! I was just joking. Its a meeting with Alf where they will be donating one million dollars to the Friends of Dorothy.
A letter from Britney~
 Awww. I gots me a new ring, y'all! It's real purty. It be a gift from mah hubband, Kevin. He wanted to buy me a diamond ring. A real big one. Bigger than the one I buyed myself when we gots married last year. Y'all, the ring is real heavy. Its like 5.5 carats , single diamond and what they call a 'classic style'. Whatever that means. I's like, does it go with sweatpants? cause thats all Im gonna fit into real soon! Why, I eat so many pickles, Kev says I turning green! Now, Kev tells me I won't git the ring till later this munt cause we has to get it sized and stuff. My fingers are real puffy! See, mah Kev, hes a really good guy. He had to wait till the check cleared, you know, the money from the photos he selled of our wedding? Yeah, then he go out and he buy me a big ole ring and I's all, "Kevin! You don't gotta git me nothing but a triple sundae with extra hot fudge and a Starbucks mocha!" and then he all, "Baby, I had to git this ring special for you from a place in Las Vegas, a real speshal place that's only in Vegas." And I's like, "Las Vegas? Why you always goin there?" And hes all, "Baby, you know they got the best shopping!" And then I looked at his stubbly beard and his long greasy hair with his squinty eyes and his dirt stained shirt and his armpit rings and his bad breath and I's all, "I love you baby!" he so good to me, y'all!
 Meg Ryan forgot once again to wear what's called a "bra". Months ago I took it upon myself to send her an entire box full of Vanity Fair undergarments and a note that gently urged her to wear one. What's with the white shirt anyway, is she hoping for a wet tee shirt contest on the way to the mall? Well, when you need to jump start your career you can't go wrong with a clingy shirt and erect nipples, just ask Teri Hatcher! There's nothing pretty about tits with nips that almost touch your belly button. Those girls need a lift. I just don't know how else to tactfully tell Meg that once you hit forty, your boobs need support. Next I'm going to send a bra with a big "Wear me!" sign on it. Maybe she'll get the hint. Pssst, are those empty water balloons?
 Finally! A real woman with a body that is not as skinny as a stick figure drawn by Dakota Fanning. Thanks to Rebecca for actually having meat on her bones. Psst, shoulders back Rebecca! Rebecca Romijn Stamos and I were together years ago at a photo shoot. After we took turns giving each other enema's, we drank a bottle of wine and made fun of Amber Valleta. Rebecca has quite a sense of humor and a terrible potty mouth! We partied all night and passed out in Cindy Crawford's hotel room. You know, those were the days. Really. Supermodels just naked and piled one on top of another. I should tell you about the time me and Naomi- oh you don't want to hear about that. I'm happy to see Rebecca and even though we don't keep in touch, with what went down between the two of us and Tyra Banks with the blindfold and leather tassles, anyway, it's really good to see Rebecca again.
 One of my secret agents was up in Beverly Hills when she saw Paris Hilton and her fiancee. Heather sent me a blow-by-blow account of being in the presence of a "star". "Paris Hilton is much prettier in real life. Swear to god. I saw her! And her fiancee, who looked small and scrawny, and her brother, and Nick Lachey, who was H. O. T. I saw them all at the Polo Lounge in the Beverly Hills Hotel. At first I didn't think it was Paris because she was dressed in a long flowy electric blue skirt and matching top, kind of conservative for her, and she wasn't as scrawny as I thought she'd be. Her hair was long and pretty. She spent the whole night kissing Paris and at one point disappeared. My husband said she had her head in his lap. Her little brother was with them, and he wore long surfer shorts, a t-shirt, and was running around with his cell attached to his ear. At one point Paris H left the table and walked quickly through the restaurant. Two minutes later Paris L and her brother left. " Heather thought Nick might have been having a party in the back room but that couldn't be because I did not receive an invite.
LOOK INTO MY EYES
 Tom Cruise will not be happy with you if during your interview, you should mention his relationship with Nicole Kidman. You can chit chat all you want about thetans and e-meters but the line is drawn where his past is concerned. He's all manic laughter and jumping on couches and flapping his arms like a chicken until Nicole is mentioned. His mood will abruptly change. Then his smile will fade and his eyes will turn red and he will beam a laser- like bolt into your retinas and render you speechless. His head will turn three hundred and sixty degrees and he will begin speaking in alien tongues. And then he will tell you in a thick, froggy voice, "Here's the thing. You're stepping over a line now. And you know you are. I'm telling you right now, okay, just put your manners back in." And then steam will rise out of his buttocks and a giant fart cloud will envelope him and whoosh! He will vanish, probably taken up into the SS L. Ron Hubbard. Then you will experience an unexplainable craving for Nutter Butters and find yourself drawn to the nearest Scientology Center where you will have cookies and milk with Kirstie Alley while Jenna Elfman straps an aluminum bowl to your head.
 Candie's has just announced their new television and print campaigns will feature Hilary "veneers" Duff. Candie's will add Hilary to their line of stars who have done the ads in the past including Dixie Chicks, Kelly Clarkson and the most memorable, Jenny McCarthy on the toilet after a generous helping of Ex-lax. The CEO of Candie's stated, "Hilary has none of the skank factor of someone like Paris. She is also not a recovering addict like Nicole. And she certainly isn't a coke hound like that bag of bones, Lindsay. And lest we not forget she hasn't been in and out of rehab like Kelly. Nor is she related to the Olsen girls. Really, we didn't have much of a choice when we got down to discussing names." Ad's will run this fall. I can't wait! I hope Hil will make some in store appearences at Kohl's where Candie's will feature their new juniors line.
 Jay Leno is freaked out as he watches Tom announce he took a dump and it was "this big". First Jay had to testify about oddball, wig- wearing Michael Jackson. Now he's concerned he may be called in one day to talk about Tom's recent trip to Crazyville. Tom is Cuckooo! I hear that jumping up on the couch like an escapee from a mental ward is now called "Doing the Cruise". And when you have a beard, you are no longer called a foppish dandy, you're in "Cruise Control". And when you're constantly grimacing like a chimp with a banana shoved up it's butt (and liking it), I think there's a name for that too, its "psychotic" or "psyTOMic".
 Jennifer Ansiton on her balcony, giving me a wave. She denies lipo on her stomach, instead crediting her taught tummy to six thousand situps and a steady diet of cigarettes and tequila shooters with a side of bacon for protein. She has seven movies lined up where she will portray Rachel Green with a different name in each film. I asked about her range of emotions and she just bit her lip and pouted then asked if I liked her hair.
 Courteney Cox Arquette is such a hands on mom. She gives direct orders to her nanny to walk little Coco in her stroller exactly six feet behind her at all times. Last time I was over at her house, Courteney made me change Coco's diapers and feed her and you know how I feel about babies: not my forte. David tried to cheer me up when I threatened to leave, making me a Skyy vodka tonic and showing me his collection of propellor cap beanies and retro wigs along with wooden teeth and fake dog poop. I gotta say, the poop was magnificent.
 What smells worse than Britney's feet? Why an entire gymnasium packed with a herd of Federlines. As the clan sits in anxious anticipation for cousin Camerons "grad-ee-ay-shun," Britney wonders how long she has to wait until she gets to Dairy Queen for an extra large snickers Blizzard with oreos and whipped cream, while Kevin contemplates his master plan of marrying a sexy pop-star.
 Before the surgeons got their hands on her, Nicole was a fresh faced lass trying to make it as an actress. "He's just the most amazing man in the whole world" -Katie Holmes "Bull shit!"- Distressed Jeans Nicole Kidman warns Tom that he should own up to the doubts we the public have regarding his over the top, fake fake fake romance with Katie. Nic believes the rumors need to be justified and Tom should defend the steaming load of shit he has force fed us with a giant plastic spoon. My calls to Nicole have not been returned, probably because the last time we spoke I told her my thoughts on Stephen Bing which were along the lines of deadbeat dad and silver haired sperm donor to Liz Hurley. I mean, I was just kidding! She needs to lighten up. We did share a hearty laugh about Tom Cruise and how she giggled all the way to the bank after she signed the "deal". But then our relationship fell flat and I wonder what happened? I think I offended her when I told her she was starting to resemble a science experiment created out of melted wax, plastic and synthetic hair.
 I was really excited when Brad and Angelina asked me to attend the premiere of the hot new film, Mr. and Mrs. Smith. I wore my best "look at me!" dress and tried to get in between the both of them every chance I got! There is nothing sweeter than a Distressed Jeans sandwich with a Brad and Angie slice on either side. The whole night was lip smacking delicious! After the movie, Angie and I went out for a girls night, if you know what I mean and I think you do. We talked non-stop about Brad and she confirmed she sprayed "Sun In" into Brad's hair when he sat in the sun. Actually, he fell asleep in a lawn chair and that's when she squirted the hair color into his tresses. When he woke up, he was surprised at how the "sun" naturally lightened his hair. We had a good laugh over that. We then took turns digging knives in to each others skin and smacking each other with a horse hair whip. Really, it was quite an amazing night. I looked fabulous, don't you think?
Death Watch
 Hot news. Just received an email from someone who worked on the set of Saturday Night Live. Hush hush. Lindsay Lohan was so strung out on hardcore drugs during the taping of the show, that the producer arranged for an intervention to take place after the taping. In case you are living under a rock and have not seen the recent photos of Lindsay, she is looking like the skeletons from Pirates of the Caribbean. She favors the crack-coke variety of drugs and is completely out of control. Her erratic behavior makes it obvious to anyone around her that her addiction is a huge, life threatening problem. She is one step away from shooting up between her toes and holding up a 7-11 for cash. The intervention was nixed at the last minute. Her own mother shot down the plan. Thanks Dina! Should we start Death Watch 2005 and add Lindsay's name to the roster that already claims Nicole and Mary Kate? What ever happened to good, old fashioned fun that includes long lunches, martinis, colonic irrigation and a visit to the mystic tanning booth followed by spending obsence amounts of money on new clothes?
 One word: Lips. What's with them? It's kind of like the thing you do when you're trying to make a fart sound. Which I do a lot when I'm out at clubs and get hit on by hot actor/model types who are vain and arrogant. I'm not commenting on her clothes. Talk amongst yourselves.
 As I reported months ago, Britney is having a girl. A lil baby Britney y'all! Like she's gonna be wearing real cute stuff, like denim shorts and tee shirts that say "sexy!" and teeny little bottles shaped like microphones and stuff. Y'all! And Britney is inching towards her goal of hitting 250 pounds before the baby is born. Y'all, she be hiring a personal trainer and stuff 'cause well, Cletus ain't gonna be all that excited by a walrus in bed wit him. Fat ladies and mopeds, fun to ride, embarassing to be seen with.
 Shhhhh! Don't tell your parents, but my new book, Lotsa de Casha is really designed to entice small children into the fold of Kabalah and to buy my upcoming album. Shhhh. Drink Kabalah water. Youre getting very sleepy. Wear a red string. Shhhhhh. Quiet now. You know you want to rent Swept Away. Yes, very good.
 In an effort to look sexy, Constantine from American Idol gets confused. Did they say, "Even though you are flabby, pasty and bloated, look sexy!" or did the photographer say, "Your hair is greasy, now turn your head and smell your armpit!" ? It's so confusing to take directions when the music is pumping and the stylists are misting you with flour and the hairdresser is trying to comb your chest hair.
Cuckoo! Cuckoo!
 Jessica Simpson is slowly being driven insane by those persistant rumors that she cheated on her husband before, during and after the filming of Dukes of Hazzard. I know she is in fact, about to be admitted to Promises for "flu-like symptoms" because she is wearing baggy sweatpants and a half buttoned shirt with appliques, the kind you iron on yourself. The clincher is the slippers. Wait, let me say that again. She is wearing slippers out of her home, in public. It's borderline Britney Spears fungus feet in a public restroom off the 405. Whenever I'm feeling down and sad about all the free sex I've given away, I too wear such an outfit.
 Brad Pitt is hell bent on busting out some ninja moves next time a pushy reporter tries to get him to discuss his personal life. So watch out, Barbara Walters! Brad is getting serious and you don't want to be on the receiving end of his roundhouse kicks. You might totally wet your Depends if you dare ask Brad a single question about his love life. Although there is such thing as freedom of speech, the rights do not apply when you are a journalist interviewing Mr. Pitt! We the people who pay money for his films, have no right whatsoever to know who he is dating and what size shoe he wears and whether he has ever trolled for trannies on Hollywood Blvd at two am. Brad comments, "I abhor what (reporters) they do. I try to make it difficult on them, they make it difficult for me; we're two factions that really despise each other." See my friends, that's why I love what I do, I just make stuff up as I go along! Love you too Brad! Hey, tequila shots at Whiskey Bar Friday night? You and me and my trusty notepad, heeheeheee.
 Poor Kathy Hilton! She is so upset at the way her two girls have been represented in the media. We have it all wrong. Paris is not a drunken slut who made a porn tape! Oh no. And Nicky doesn't party all the time and spend oodles of money and pretend to design clothing. Kathy says she was sad at the way her children have been described. Her kids are grounded and responsible. And what about the persistant and vicious rumors that Paris and Nicky had credit cards when they were nine years old? Kathy chuckles and announces that the girls were twenty when they received their unlimited American Express cards! And they only ever carried five hundred dollars in cash before that for emergencies. The girls spend their time at bible study and quilting bees, working with the patients of a geriatric facility and organizing book drives for underprivileged kids. If you have seen them drunk, high, stumbling out of a nightclub or making out with random men, well, then you're seeing things. The Hilton girls would never! I mean really! You should be ashamed of yourself for even thinking that those innocent young women would ever, oh you make me sick! Paragons of virtue they are! Yooohooooooo! Mrs. Hilton? Come down from planet Moneyanus and realize that porn tape really did star Paris. And your daughters really do have quite a privileged lifestyle. But they are really, really nice girls and if I should run into Paris or Nicky, I would kindly accept their offer to stay at any Hilton in the world free of charge along with a fruit basket and a bottle of champagne in my room.
 I'm so happy for Lola and Papi! They lasted a year and looks like its true love, puppies and prancing unicorns for Marc Anthony and Jennifer Lopez. Although Marc is a "typical Latin male-demanding, controlling, possessive" he has fallen under the same magical cooch, I mean spell, that Chris and Puffy and Ben were exposed to. Remember Puffifer? Chrisifer? Bennifer? And there were more. Oh yes there were. Like a black widow, Jennifer spins her web of enchantment, trapping her men and sucking the life out of them. She then intoxicates them with Glow and performs her own version of mind control with endless music videos from her albums until they agree to marry her. I think there might be some leopard handcuffs and a crystal studded gag with diamond shackles involved as well. We should all take lessons from her honestly. Although I make a mean foie gras on toast points with a white wine reduction and black truffle phyllo puffs, try as I might, I cannot convince three men to marry me. Instead of writing a celebrity guide to Paparazzi for Idiots, she should be working on a dating manual.
Lindsay: Fully Wasted
 Just like Teri Hatcher's offensively erect nipples, Lindsay Lohan, who cannot last one day without photos or news surfacing about herself, had to get a digital makeover for her new movie, Boobies: Fully Loaded. Those once large jugs were decreased two cup sizes. Look, if the people over at Disney had hired me instead of her, there would have been nothing to worry about. The technical people wouldn't have had to work overtime with an eraser and white-out, laboring over each frame of my cleavage, that's for sure. Plus, because I used to be a professional race car driver and can drive a five speed, the production team would have been spared the use of a stunt double. I have never demanded an over- the- top tricked out trailer with maid service or insisted on an on- call massuese or commanded Zone meals be delivered at room tempature, which makes me a peach to work with. And at only $1 million a movie, I drive a pretty competitive bargain. Oh, and its been years since I last suffered from "exhaustion".
 No no. We are not at Haight and Ashbury during the height of the sexual revolution and stop trying to pass me a joint (save it for later, wink!). It's simply an Olsen muppet, out on a Starbucks run! You know- extra venti with a shot of crack and a splash of espresso with a fat free coffee bean floating in it. I know this is like, so absurd you just might check me into Promises for even suggesting it, but theres this thing- stay with me here- called a needle and with it you can also get this odd instrument called thread...and sometimes, you can cut and sew if let's say, your pants are six inches too long and you find yourself stepping on the bottoms and like, they actually cover your feet. Crazy, isn't it? I love to twist scarves around my body until I feel like some kind of fairy princess or hippie. I like to wear long coats like the kind Keanu Reeves wears in the Matrix movies. They say I have a style all my own and that's when I yell, "I'm a friggin Olsen twin!"
Whitestrips!
 Side effects from prolonged viewing may include some or all of the following: heartburn, ringing in ears, unpleasant taste in mouth, nasal congestion, vaginal warts, gaut, shingles, malaria and constipation. "HEE HEE HEE" Let's smile ridiculously big, baring our teeth and scrunching up our noses! Then they will have to believe we are really in love! This is acting at it's best! It's really hard to look like were smelling something disgusting yet at the same time, be smiling as if we heard that we just recruited new members to our cult! HA HA HA I think its safe to say Katie never had braces. Headgear, anyone?
 See what happens when you let Angelina loose with a bottle of peroxide and some rubber gloves? Brad Pitt is calling himself the Zen master of the tabloids. That's really not as amazing as when Sting announced he could have sex for five hours at stretch but it got my attention. If you're planning on tuning into Brad's Diane Sawyer interview, I'll give you a hint about what he's going to be chatting about. It starts with and A and ends with an A and it's not Angelina. In fact, I feel so robbed. I don't think he divulges any information about their wild and roaring sex life at all. Why else would we tune in? Instead, he speaks about a cause that is dear to his heart, the humanitarian crisis in Africa. BP goes onto chitchat just a bit about Jen and Angie commenting that it's a "good story" how Angie broke up his marriage. It is a good story. In fact, it's fabulous. Let me recap for you: Brad and Jen get married. Awwww. So sweet. Their kids are going to be gorgeous! Then the tightly woven fabric of their union slowly begins to unravel when Jen announces she won't give up cocaine or stop making movies. How dare he ask her to have a baby when she has six movies lined up! Brad, you selfish jerk! Her star is rising and you want her to do what? Well, then she might as well move in with David and Courteney and take up residence in the chair that looks like a big leather glove. Brad meets Angie and she is a sulty sexy mama with a big heart and big boobs. He's drawn to her. Shes drawn to him. They begin a torrid romance that culminates with an explosive vacation in Africa. Now that's a good story. Oh yeah, on to the Zen master comment. Brad notes that at some point you have to ignore the tabloids. "And at some point you just become a Zen master of it all." I know of quite a few women who want to be Zen master of his loins. If nothing is going on with Angelina, I have some phone numbers I want to give him. And a bottle of Nice N' Easy dark golden blonde.
Vrrrrooooommmm vrrrooooom! Faster Maverick!
 Tom and Kate don't want any publicity. Nooooo. Someone needs to remind Katie not to wear low rise jeans. In other photos I can see her butt crack. Not pretty.
 Every bride is a beautiful bride on her wedding day! I can't wait to see what kind of dress Paris chooses for her nuptials. Will her dress be white? Off the shoulder? No matter what design or style, one thing is for certain- she won't be wearing underpants on her special day! I expect my engraved invitation some time around September which gives me more than enough time to shop for Mr. and Mrs. Paris. What to get the filthy rich couple who can buy any thing they would ever want? Hmmm. Good thing I have this handy dandy registry list! Would you like to buy a gift for the happy couple? Good thing they registered at Macys. We can chip in and buy some sheets for uh...sleeping. Macys registry
 Look, I don't usually even notice these things and it's the last place I care to cast a glance but come on! Like you havent noticed the enormous bulge in Paris Latsis's pants? I mean every time I see him in jeans, it's like WHOA, rein it in boy! I thought it was just my computer screen slightly distorting the images but no. Alas, it's so obvious, you wou d have to be blind not to see it. He might be a bit on the short side, as I'm a tall gal myself but what he lacks in height, he obviously makes up for in, well.. you know, other places, wink wink.
 Awww, Apple Martini is just too cute. See how Gwyn and Apple are pointing? Gwyn is saying,"Look Apple, honey. Distressed Jeans just updated her site. Can you say funny funny celebrities?" I'd like to just put this out there for future reference: Gwyneth, next time you take a cruise on Valentino's yacht, give me a call and I'll join you. I'll try to remember those Manolo's I borrowed from you last time we were together okay?
 Prolonged viewing may incur vomiting, heart palpitations, anal leakage and swelling of testicles. Paramount is paying serious attention to dumping eccentric maniac Tom Cruise whose high- on- scientology demeanor is not going over well while promoting War of the Worlds. Mind you, this is not for certain but words are being exchanged about cutting Tom loose from Mission Impossible 3. They want to ditch him, not because of his over the top obsession with Katie "cold sores" Holmes, but because his freaky declarations of love for e-meters and proclivity for setting up a scientology tent in front of the movie set is just, well...it's weird. People prefer massage chairs and latte kiosks. Tom is garnering negative attention and doing damage to his box office draw because of his strange ways. I told you he's a freak and a closeted homo and no one was believing me. Hello!
In related news, Brooke Sheilds is so pissed off about Tom poking his big honker into her post partum troubles that she said she wouldn't take advice from someone who believes in aliens. But was she referring to Tom or John Travolta who made the erroneous mistake of actually starring in Battlefield Earth? Brooke is currently starring in the London musical, Chicago and offered an olive branch to Tommy. She said, "If he wants to see Chicago, I've left him two tickets - one adult, one child." Oops. That wasn't gesture of peace and love, that was a mean swipe at the sixteen year age difference between Tom and his PR dream, Katie Holmes. Meow!
 Brad Pitt was recently flapping his gums about an occurrence during his relationship with Gwyneth Paltrow. When the two were in bed together- imagine that, would you - an intruder broke into their room. Brad says he was shocked when the burglar turned out to be a teenage admirer hoping to catch a glimpse of the star. Okay, first when Brad tells the story it is totally inaccurate. I was not a teenager, I was twenty. And second, it wasn't him I wanted to see it was Gwyneth. Duh! Brad, get your story straight! Next you're going to spill the beans about the time we were in Mexico and I got drunk on bad Margaritas and was dancing with Jennifer to the marachi band while removing my bra. You always get the details wrong.
 Lindsay Lohan, whose every move is being documented and photographed, ran into her rumored boyfriend, Jake Jillengahall at the club Mood in LA. Jake was with another girl, not Kirsten "baby teeth" Dunst. Jake clearly does not want to be tied down. Maybe just tied up but thats between him and his plethora of chickies. Lindsay was pissed when she eyed Jake with another woman! Gah! First Wilmer goes after her buddy Ashlee and now Jake is with another woman. This after trading Shakespearean quotes with Mischa Barton no less. Jake is a playa, honey. So Lindsay set her sights on American Idol cast off, curly- haired, blunt- cut bobble head, Constantine. Connie is no doubt enjoying his fifteen minutes of fame. He gave Lindsay his number so the two could hook up. Take that Jake, you big two timer!
 Matthew Perry, who is no stranger to drug addiction, picks his nose discreetly after having lunch in Los Angeles. I have repeatedly warned various celebrities on the danger of the public nose pick and the wedge pull. No matter where you are, even if you think you are alone, you're not. There is always a zoom lens the size of the Hubble telescope watching your every move. I know, fame is such a bitchy mistress! But when your bank account is over a few million dollars and you drive a Range Rover with buttery leather seats and get $400 haircuts, well then, just shut up and deal!
 I feel so bad for Kelly Osbourne! In fact, I'm baking her a batch of my special chocolate chip- fairy dust cookies right now. Twenty year old Kelly is back in rehab at a drug treatment center. There is no lying in the Osbourne home. No "exhaustion" or "suffering from the flu" bullshit. That family tells it like it is. Look, the girl is completely messed up and needs more help. It was only one year ago that Kelly checked into Promises, Ben Affleck's old stomping ground, to deal with her addiction of painkillers. I'd like to know where she was getting her pills. I can't even get my doctor to write out a prescription for Viagra, just for you know, fun. Brother Jack attended the same rehab place back in 2003 for his addiction to pot and liquor and lets not even begin to list Ozzy's issues. It's all so glamorous, isn't it? Who do we know that hasn't been through a stint in a rehab facility? I'm telling you right now, Hollywood is one crazy, sick place full of people with multiple addictions and drug problems. A friend of a friend even attended one of those sex parties where everyone walks around naked with Mardi Gras masks on, just like in Eyes Wide Shut. I don't think Kelly Osbourne was there.
 Arghhhh! Why didn't you tell me my skin was orange? By now its old news but Bam Margera, my friend Karen's cousin, did in fact have sex with Jessica Simpson. I do believe she only had oral sex with Johnny Knoxville who is a married man but maybe not for long. Jessica! How could you? Do you really think bad hair extensions and oddly tangerine skin can make it all better? Honey, youre more orange than a overripe pumpkin at Halloween. It's kind of scary actually. I Bam's ex told a Philly station, "Yes, he did [bleep] Jessica Simpson. I know this for a fact. He woke up in her bed. I have an e-mail. He told me all about it . . . The whole show ['Newlyweds'] is a lie." Shocking! Newlyweds is a lie? I don't believe it. Joe Simpson wouldn't whore out his daughter now would he? I'm hopefully about Jessica's future, however. I see a new show, Divorce'd or Drunk'd on MTV. Follow that crazy whore Jessica around while she is up to high jinks and antics wearing nothing but a string bikini, getting wasted and sleeping with B-list actors! Sister Ashlee hooks up in tour buses with random guys and dad Joe blows a fuse at his sleazy daughters. But hey! He brokered the deal in the first place. Got to milk those cash cows for all you can, you know?
 I just received a tip from a reader, a waitress at a place where Renee nibbles on lettuce leaves and licks ice cubes and then says, "I couldnt eat another bite. I'm so full! Really!" This is hot stuff people. We should have known when she showed up wearing an empire waist dress - a dead giveaway something is brewing in her muscular uterus. Renee is pregnant with a Chesney! A cowboy hat wearing fetus with squinty eyes and a pouty lemon-sucking mouth. What is the world coming to? First Britney and Kevin and now Kenny and Renee. Why, everyone is having a baby! It's tres chic, like anal bleaching and high colonics. It's the new trend! Come on, get your insemination on! I do not have details but I will go out on a limb and say she is due around December. I'm sure she will be one of those women who gain seven pounds and give birth early to save her figure. Hours after having the baby, she will be up on the treadmill running for hours and hours.
 Judd Nelson was tired of Adam Duritz getting all the compliments about his Fraggle-rock hair do. You know the ladies love odd hair styles and mental patient chic! Judd decided to spike his greasy hair out in all directions and try for the punk rocker- meets- actor look that is so attractive to the girlies. Ugly tie, tinted shades, overgrown goatee- yes, yes. he has all the markings of, well, a 80's actor hoping to get laid. Hey, Judd I hear Tara Reid is free!
 Lindsay got so hungry, she gnawed off Sandra Bullock's hand. The flesh was a bit too chewy but meat is afterall, on the Atkins list of approved foods. PS. Sandra- lets let the bangs grow out, shall we? And unless you are pregnant or fat, leave the long tunics at Pea in the Pod. Or take off the pants and wear the shirt as a dress. Why didn't you call me before you left the house? You know how I love to play stylist!
 Fresh from trying to cover up her liasions with both Bam and Johnny, Jessica shows up at the awards with Beyonce's hair extensions. If things get too out of control, Jessica can simply release the hair from it's rubber band and it will cover her face, providing a disguise until she can get out and run for the hills.
 It's true. Eva Longoria left JC because his teeth were the color of Indian corn. Whitestrips, my friend. Crest makes them and they are wonderful. In a pinch you can use a whitening toothpaste but really, you need to stop steeping your teeth in cups of Earl Grey.
 MTV movie awards were held tonight and I was not able to go even though I had front row seats and a short purple dress with sequins picked out. What a huge bummer! Nicole Richie showed up with her skinnylicious boyfriend, DJ Am. Luckily she thought to bring a pizza and beer which is hidden under her voluminous dress. Thinking he was a size smaller, DJ wore a jacket from the boys department at Sears. You might be thin but you aren't the size of a preteen honey.
 Are you feeling like you might want lip-syncing and jig dancing at your next soiree? Want a Simpson sister but don't want the embarrassing entanglement of Jessica sleeping with your husband/boyfriend/cousin? If you have an extra $35,000 Ashlee will show up and sing for you! Let me clarify- its thirty-five grand per song plus expenses of course. Hey nothing comes cheap, not even a bad singer! A week ago, Ashlee sang at the Cipriani restaurant for a 14 year old celebrating her birthday. What gift! An out of tune singer whose claim to fame is her air-headed sister and her creepy, leering father! I wonder how much Jack Osbourne charges for a party appearance?
 Recovering from her car accident, Lindsay heads out for a night on the town. Please note she is sporting the same criss-cross chunky sandals as Jessica Simpson was wearing recently. The heels can double as a dagger, meat cleaver, hammer or ice pick or wooden spoon. I'm so glad to see Lindsay walking, up and about, I was so worried about her! It was the candles and flowers I sent that cheered her up, I know it. Reading the blog lifted her spirits and she was able to pull herself together and go party with her friends. I thought she was bed-ridden from the sideswipe and was requesting round the clock care from a male nurse with a pocketful of nose candy but I was wrong. I am keeping a vigil for LL though. With her friends Nicole and Paris getting married, Mary Kate in Europe wasting away, Wilmer dating Ashlee and her father in jail, I'm concerned Linds might be headed towards a stay in the "hospital" for "exhaustion".
 Tom, the early years. Love the tube socks, man! Cokey Katie Holmes has admitted that Tom Cruise has "cast a spell" on her. Loosely translated, that means he has sucked her into the vortex of his religion and is in the process of encoding her brain and expunging all she knew before. About her new boyfriend who will no doubt be her official sperm donor before the end of the year, she states her feelings, "You know what? When you know, it's so exciting. It's like, 'Wow!'" Like totally cool! Tom rocks, dude! Like, really. Wow. Like, so awesome. He's a dream boat! Katie then revealed she sleeps on her Days of Thunder sheets every night and carries her Top Gun lunchbox to the set of her film. Asked whether or not she had the life size cutout of Tom from Rainmen, she blushed and said, "Like duh. Yeah!" Couch jumping freakazoid Tom hinted the two were thinking of getting married with John Travolta officiating the ceremony and Kirstie Alley banging out the tune Here Comes the Bride on the Scientology organ. For more funny, oddly disturbing stuff on Paxil-hating Tom, check out my new favorite blog The Pug Bus.
 If I were in New York City I would be following Angelina around like a blood hound hot on her trail. I'm sure she would invite me to ride in a carriage around Central Park where I would rest my head on her shoulder and we would share a big salted pretzel from a vendor who doesn't speak english and smells like cumin. Maybe we would take in a Broadway show and then go to dinner wearing our Jimmy Choos and matching hair clips! Angie and Brad had a hush-hush rendevous in the Meat Packing district. They can just shovel up that bull shizzle that nothing is going on between the two of them, oh Please! Do we look stoopid? Only if we are wearing our Victoria Beckham jeans that is! Brad will be interviewed by Diane Sawyer and will supposedly open up about Jennifer and Angie. A look into my crystal ball informs me that he will say nice things about Jennifer yet remain tight lipped about Angelina. Surprise, surprise. I want the low-down dirty scoop on the two of them. Don't you want to hear how bitchy and needy JA is and how her drug addiction tore apart their marriage and drove him into the waiting arms of Angelina? Don't we deserve to know that Angie roars like a lion during sex and likes to drink blood and collect live owls? Don't sugarcoat it Brad, we can handle the truth!
 Victoria Beckham aka Piggy Spice, was at Kitson today. She was making an in- store appearance to hawk her expensive jeans priced at $210. Unfortunatly, I was getting my colon blown out with a rubber hose and a pressure washer. It works wonders for your health, you should try it. Then I went for a manicure at a place that specially imports emery boards created from the sand of the Sahara and nail polish from France. I did check out Mrs. Beckham's jeans at the online Kiston store. I'm not impressed with the jeans unless they have potential to make my boobs look bigger. The back pockets feature white topstitching and a huge ugly Burger King- like crown with her initials embroidered which will draw attention to your buttocks. That can be good or bad depending on how you fill out those jeans.
 Thank you Stephanie! A loyal reader with first-hand knowledge sent me a scoop regarding new L. Ron Hubbard freak and Tom Cruise's beard, Katie Holmes. Its not about Katie's recent outbreak of herpes simplex 1, although I have been told that was brought on my the stress of dating such a high profile actor. My source told me Katie enjoys the white stuff and I'm not talking about snow or Elmers glue. Apparently, Ms. Holmes is a coke head with a habit of snorting where ever she goes. She loves those ginormous leather purses that are all the rage. Why you ask? It holds the goods better than a condom full of Brazilian coke shoved up her anal cavity!
She is soooo cute!
 Good to see you too, sweetie! What a precious little angel you turned out to be, Mary Kate. I just want to put you in my pocket and carry you around like a pet! How fun would that be? Instand of toting a mini dog, I could have you in my purse with only your pursed lips and messy bed head sticking out of the top! I love your line of Wal-Mart shoes and clothes. Such high quality. And you were friggin brilliant in "Billboard Dad". So what happened, toots? Bad day? If I had your money I would never frown again. I would be full of rose petals and sunshine and rainbows and unicorns every second of my Prada filled life. I realize the paparazzi can be a bit much- I know how it is, trust me! But then if you can turn around and go home to your billion dollar apartment and lay on your fluffy silk covered imported white dove feather bed and count your five hundred dollar bills while sipping Cristal and shining your diamonds, well, whats the problemo? PS. You need a manicure. Love ya!
My dad the Dick
 Imagine the teasing that would get done in school if everyone were to learn your dad was Andy Dick. He may be a grownup yet is more immature than most 7th grade boys who think tampons and spit balls are side-splittingly hilarious. No wonder why we haven't learned that Andy has a son until now. The poor kid has been in hiding. I have never seen Andy Dick not fully loaded out of his curly headed mind. Once he hit on me at a club in Los Angeles and he wiped his nose on my sleeve. Then I caught him coming out of the ladies room. He had a wad of toilet paper up each nostil and was singing a Milli Vanilli song. No, really.
 Tom taught her well. Jessica is ready for her full proctology exam and Katie Holmes is more than willing to do a scientology special. Bottoms up!
But daddy, I want an Oompa Loompa!
 Oh, I didn't know Lindsay Lohan was starring in a remake of Stephen King's classic horror movie, Carrie. Veruca Salt, the spoiled and demanding little girl in Willy Wonka? "I want the golden ticket daddy! Right now!" Or is she Nellie Olson from Little House on the Prairie? With the sausage curls, prom dress and nasty expression on her face I really can't tell. That's the sign of a brilliant actress, always keeping the audience on their toes.
 When I was a wee girl I would beg my Grandmother to open her big box of tacky clip-on earrings and plastic beads and let me go at it. I thought I was the hottest thing dressed up in her hideous costume jewelry, the large ugly rings decorating each of my tiny fingers and the oversize bangles around my delicate wrists. If I was really good, she would let me smear cheap red lipstick across my lips. And if I was really behaving, I could dress up in her old lingerie for kicks. And then I would put my grandfathers hat on my unruly hair and wrap myself in an oversized doily. I would often wear my elderly uncles geriatric room darkening sunglasses, pretending I was a movie star. Then I would put on a show. Just imagine that will you? I was so cute.
 Jessica Simpson shoots a music video wearing a teeny string bikini. It would be nice to have a neck that loose wouldn't it? She must have just undergone a chiropractic adjustment. Does she know her hair is getting suds on it? Apparently in this video, Jessica abandons her Christian values, romping and writhing on top of a car under the guise that she is washing it. It truly rivals Paris Hilton's Carls Jr. ad for porno content. All she needs is a smoke machine and a pair of Ray Bans and it would feel like a video from 1987. Where's Poisen? Winger? Warrant? Whitesnake? And do we really believe Jessica washes her own car? Please.
 Heather Locklear leaves Chateau Marmont after a lunch date with Lisa Rinna. Nice of them to invite me! I always actually eat whats on my plate and I know how that embarasses them. Skinny bitches! I just can't starve myself any longer and will eat with reckless abandon even if it means scarfing down every last sliver of lemon and sprig of parsley on the table, dammit. How come Ben Stiller is in the picture with his fluffy wig and sunglasses?
 "Hey! It's me. What are you wearing today? Wanna be twins? Let's like, wear our cowboy boots and a sundress okay? And don't forget to put your hair in a ponytail, that will be sooooo totally cute! Then tomorrow we can wear our knee- length dresses with our hair down and like, flip-flops, 'kay? Don't forget! All right. I'm hanging up now! No, you hang up first! No, you! Silly! Okay. Hang up. Really! Come on, Linds! Okay. On the count of three. One...two...three! Bye, bitch!"
 This weeks issue of People Magazine offers us a rare glimpse inside the tender hearts of K. Fed and Britney. I have obtained some edited comments that will not be seen in the magazine. What's been the biggest change for you since learning you were pregnant?Britney: Well, mah boobs are yooge y'all and Kev won't stop playin wif them. I told him, I ain't breastfeeding yew Kevin! Kevin, how do you react to the hormonal craziness?
Kevin: I ignore her and then ask for a beer. Let's pop the big question: boy or girl?K: We's dont wanna know. Did you choose not to find out?K: Yeah. Whatever it is, Brit's decided it's gonna git elves and fairies painted on the wall. She got it all planned out. Picked any names yet?B: Well, y'all. I like the name Justine. Or Kevney. Britney, any cravings?B: I like pickles and ice cream at night Kevin, do you run out and get what she wants?K: Oh yeah. I have a pickle for her. It aint dill, baby. Kevin, do you feel like you've changed during Britney's pregnancy?K: Are you shitting me? I got three mil in the bank, you think Im gonna change? Have you made any plans for when you have the baby?K: As long as I got a pack of smokes and a playstation 2, I be fine. How did you share the baby news with your family?
B: I told Jamie Lynn that the sex with Kevin was so incredible that we made a little baby. And then I drewed her some pictures. Is the sex different?
B Its ectasy. Kevin is like walking sex. Just look at him. See how the oil on his skin makes him shine? He fine. Kevin, when you look at Britney now, what goes through your mind?
K: She remind me of Shar when she was pregnant with my kids. Did you have any morning sickness?
B: Yeah. But three Starbucks frappacinos and jars of Kool-aid helped me. I also been eatin' french fries and ice cream. Have you thought about getting back into shape after the baby?B: Why? You sayin I'm not in shape? Y'all think I'm fat or something? Britney, has spending time with Kevin's kids prepared you in some way?B: What? Any thoughts of putting your child in the business?K: Hell yeah! We're pimpin this kid out and making daddy some G's baby. Do you want more kids?K: No. I got kids running around I don't even know about. Picture your child reading this 10 years from now. What message do you want to send?B: I just want them to know daddys real good in bed. He ain't no Justin but he can rock my world. And we love you little Kevina!
 Same outfit, different pose. This is his "oh, I am so sexy, I cant even handle myself" pose. Now give me Madonna! Madonna! Madonna! Give me Ethel Merman! Give me Liberace after piano playing and wearing diamonds and rubies on every finger! Yes! Thats it! The white tubes socks just turn me on. Mmmm. Knuckle biting hotness poured into a pair of Lee jeans.
 Who wants to be a Hilton? Who wants unflattering photos of themselves on a blog? Oh Paris. Now I see why you need those supersized sunglasses that are as big as your entire head when you go out. Top up, sunglasses on.
SHIT!
 Lindsay Lohan didn't want to die in a car crash a la Princess Diana, being followed in a high speed chase with the paparazzi recklessly zooming in while she maneuvered the her Mercedes through the tricky streets of LA. No, she envisioned a more glamorous death for herself, like going into convulsions at a club or something with Jared Leto attempting to give her mouth to mouth while wearing a short sequined dress and Manolos. LL was uninjured, thank goodness. That girl doesn't have much to cushion the impact of any kind of blow to her frail and brittle bones. She should drive wearing a puffy, fire proof, head to toe jumpsuit and a helmet. The photographer was aggressively pursuing the 18 year old movie star. She was trying to flag down a policeman when the car was broadsided. Naturally she was very upset and was crying and shaking. That's a $180,000 car that is now in need of body work. Good thing I have been taking auto painting lessons in Long Beach for the last six months. Greased lightening! I'll be happy to bang the dents out and touch up the paint. And then feed her some cake and color her hair.
 I have a special New York City insider to entertain us with her thoughts on Ms. Shanna from Meet the Barkers! Thank you to Miss Bombshell Burner for the guest-blogging. Bombshell has an issue with Shanna ever since the two were beauty queens back in the day. Shanna is up to no good and Bombshell has no trouble spelling it all out for us. "From Miss USA to Playboy to that little unplanned pregnancy named Atianna with golden gloves Oscar de la Hoya, to Mrs. Travis "Blink 182" Barker, she is the antithesis of a dumb as sticks (and I mean kindling here folks) gal using the only things she's got, big ta-tas and a thick mane of (mostly bleached) blonde hair. Let's not forget that amazing "acting" career......... co-starring with Saved by the Bell heartthrob and big-time (as we say in Spanish) "el cheato" Mario Lopez on USA's cleverly titled Pacific Blue, as Monica " My mother was deaf" Harper. Ooooh boy.....and that straight to video classic (in my VHS collection of course), 1997's Poison Ivy III: The New Seduction. Bring on the Emmy and the Oscar, bitches!As much as I love my fashion PR job here in the Big Apple, I would much rather enjoy Shanna's cushy life. This consists mainly of sleeping in all day long with a raging hangover in her California McMansion and letting her nanny watch over her two illegitimate children, while tattooed husband Travis makes the big bucks out on tour. It's a blast to leave your teething youngster and his half sister alone in favor of jumping on a plane to London "oh the cars are in reverse....giggle giggle" to "surprise" husband only 1 day after he leaves for his European tour. "Let's make him a scrap book with all the pictures of when we went out on the town and got inebriated" she says with glee! She just can't live without him.......poor, poor Shanna!Can we also point out to not forget that little rendezvous she had with Mr. ex- Melanie Griffith, Don Johnson during her Playboy days? How many celebs does Shanna need to screw to make it in la-la land? Isn't it enough that two different respective TV/Movie and music stars have fathered your children and now you have another punk rocker bun in the oven? I know you are 29 and maybe looking to "settle down start a family" and all, but ever heard of birth control? Oopsy-doopsy!"
 Mischa Barton just loves reciting quotes from Shakespeare in the nude wearing only nipple tassles and a pair of go go boots. No, really! On again off again greaseball, Brandon Davis doesn't even know who Shakespeare is. That's why she was cuddling up to fellow thespian Jake Gyllenhall whose last name really bothers me. I don't care for those big ethnic last names that I cannot pronounce or spell. He can be Jake Hall from now on for my purposes. Mischa and Jake were acting like starry eyed lovers as they whispered quotes in each others ears from various plays. Afterwards Mischa couldn't stop raving about how clever and funny and handsome Jake is. According to Star magazine, Mischa said the cool thing about Jake is that he loves Shakespeare as much as she does. Who would have thought the O.C. star is so..well, deep? Like Kevin Federline, Mischa has a deep well of insight and talent that is not obvious. I hope she doesn't find out about the trysts between Lindsay Lohan and Jake. You know what William Shakespeare says about that- "Hell hath no fury like a woman or actress scorned or two-timed." I think that was from his play, The Merchant of Venice Beach.
Reading, writing and lipstick
You know how I love to read. I just finished a Marian Keyes novel called “Angels” which was wonderful. Along with a big vodka martini and a bag of Caviar crisps, reading is a lovely way to spend an afternoon. I was laying on a chaise, soaking up the California sunshine, working on my tan aided by a heavy application of sunless tanning cream and a pool boy fanning me with huge palms. On my reading list is the controversial novel by Natalie Collins called Wives and Sisters. I hear it’s a real page turner and the author receives lots of mail regarding this explosive book. I'm looking forward to reading The Hamptons by Linda Dominique Grosvenor. I'm looking forward to a saucy beachy read that spills the juice about the elite playground of the east coast rich. And lastly, I get a lot of email from my fellow readers, writers and celebrity lovers. I want to mention the Lipstick Chronicles, a fun site for aspiring and published writers. I love the title of the site because I love lipstick. When all else fails, swipe some MAC on your lips and off you go. Of course you don't need lipstick to read or write but cosmetic enhancement always makes me feel better. Happy reading!
Sisterhood of the traveling cooch
 Before Paris got engaged, Paris asked her parents if he could marry their little girl. That might have been before Paris knew of the liasion between Paris and Paulie Shore. Paris is all but tugging her mini skirt down and her crotch is in daring proximity to what looks like a bulge brewing in Paulie's camo thong. Further study indicates Paris recently underwent a Playboy wax shortly before this photo was taken and she last ingested carbs forty eight hours before the party. Paulie is under the impression mesh shirts are hot but I have news for him. Mesh is for pantyliners and gauze. I think all bets are off once Paris catches wind of this. I wonder if Nicole has already mailed the photos in a plain, unmarked envelope along with copies of the sex tapes and a cryptic note of cut out magazine letters spelling out "PaRIs iS A SlUt."
 I just can't resist! Tom Cruise: the Fabio years.
 Because Kenny forgot to brand her with his cattle prod, Renee Zellweger Chesney keeps losing her wedding ring. She admitted to losing the band at least five times a day. Why doesn't she keep it on her finger? Maybe they have a Will and Jada style marriage where sex with your spouse is optional. Now, Renee, calm down! Garth Brooks is now engaged, so hands off. ' What I really want to know is how she gets her legs so muscular? Last time we met for lunch she kept sucking on ice chips and toying with her iceberg lettuce salad. We didn't really talk about our workout regimes, we spoke of little else besides my favorite topic- me!
Puff Zitty
 Puff Daddy really knows how to market himself. He has a bling-bling line of tire rims coming out, a new perfume in the works, clothing I can't afford and is considered a hip hop mogul and people are still talking about him and Jennifer Lopez. And now he is set to appear in advertisements, not for tampons or mortgage rates, but for ProActiv. It's the acne treatment I've been trying to get Cameron Diaz to use. The cream is a bit drying but works well. I've used it and even Jessica Simpson endorses the stuff so you know it must be good. P. Zitty asked for $3 million to be the acne treatment spokesperson and he got it. Which sucks for ProActiv because I would have done it for two million less. I guess the company isn't worried about penny pinching. Puffy demanded and received use of a private plan to shuffle him to and from the commercial shoot. The plane was decked out in diamonds and trimmed in 14 ct gold. I would have asked for a simple first class seat in a commercial airliner and a mini-bar at my disposal. But again, no one thinks to ask me.
 Brooke Shields may be wearing a bathrobe in public but at least she can be bold enough to unleash her fury at Tom and his thoughtless remarks. Brooke was pissed at the comments he made directly towards her ordeal with postpartum depression and her use of anti-depressants to cure her baby blues. Does he know what it's like to pass a watermelon through a key-hole? Has he had his breasts sucked on all night long? Does he know what it's like to be woken by screams and howls, a full nights sleep a year away? Has he ever gone nine months with varicose veins, morning sickness and loss of energy only to give birth and feel like a fat cow with swollen tits? Exactly! Brooke believes Tom should mind his own business: "Tom should stick to saving the world from aliens and let women who are experiencing postpartum depression decide what treatment options are best for them. Let's settle this the old fashion way. Mud wrestling and jello shots. We can televise it on the UPN and take bets on who comes out on top. Go, Brooke!
 I hope Paris Hilton takes notes on this: The best way to keep your marriage alive is to have an open relationship. Very open. Ask permission before you cheat on your spouse. And then like dominos, everything else will fall into place. Will and Jada Smith made a decision that they could sleep with other people as long as they are up front about it and it's not kept secret. Will confesses, "Our perspective is you don't avoid what's natural. You're going to be attracted to people. In our marriage vows, we didn't say 'forsaking all others'." Will understands Jada might need to have sex with a person other than him. If she gets the urge to get down and dirty with another - be it man or woman- then by all means, he will accept it as long as she asks permission first. It's always smart to exercise good manners before jumping into bed with someone else. This goes along with Goldie Hawns opinion that men need to spread their seed. It's simply not normal to be with one person for the rest of your life. Which makes the whole idea of marriage seem so outdated and silly. In the immortal words of the great deep thinker, Kevin Federline, "Love is...love. Love is...commitment." Yeah! Right on, Socrates.
Foppish Dandy!
 For all of you who think Tom Cruise is straight and masculine...enjoy this photo. I like the jaunty fedora, the arms around himself, the sweatshirt and the Nike sneakers. The look on his face is smoldering. Uh huh. How many of you had this poster in your room twenty years ago? Did you ever utter the words, "He's HOT!" And oh, how wrong you were.
Prepare yourself....for an anal plug
 She is being pulled over to the dark side by who else but Tommy with Kirstie, John, Kelly and Jenna waiting in the wings. Once safely inside the bosom of the Scientology center, Katie will have a colander strapped to her head and will be hooked up to a machine, erasing all other memories but that of Tom jumping on the couch and wrestling with Oprah. Say nothing about his low-riding pants he chose to wear that fateful day. Katie is beginning her Scientology lessons and will soon be spouting off knowledge of e-meters and vitamins. Before she agrees to marry Tom- oh yes, there is talk of that- she must convert to his "religion" and be well versed in the intellect and science of the great master, L. Ron Hubbard. Katie was seen in Harry Winstons no doubt picking out a gigantic diamond ring. Scientology says nothing about the adornment of jewels, thank goodness. Perhaps Holmey could take some classes on how to be a stepmother since she will automatically be mommy to Tom's kids. So much to learn! I hope she irons all of this out in her agreement with Tom's band of lawyers before she says "I do". Or in Scientology speak, "Ah uh wah dah beeeeep."
Peeeeee Ewwwwwww
 Too bad I missed the latest installment of Chaotic. But I'm certain nothing on the show compares to seeing an up close and personal view of Britney's stink bomb feet. Did she wax poetic about love and fairies and Kevin last night? Did she smoke and swear? See, I missed nothing. I'm so glad I choose to have a late night colonic and ear candling session. It wasn't too long ago that malodorous Brit was asked to put her shoes back on after her smelly feet contaminated a plane and passengers complained about the stench. The oxygen masks fell from the ceiling the moment she kicked her shoes off. But what's even more surprising is that she was flying commercial!
 Reader submitted photo. Thanks, Britney! I know of a certain makeup artist who confided that often when an actor or actress is a royal turd, they make certain he or she looks like the walking dead. Ahhh revenge is a dish best served cold with yellow foundation and ghoulish face powder. That's why you will notice certain celebs give the impression of being unhealthy with under-eye circles, mouth sores and red zits. Thanks be to the makeup artists! Movie director Danny Boyle was surprised Cameron Diaz is regarded as beautiful because he thinks she is as attractive as a colon blow induced intestinal cleansing after a bowl of chili. Apparently- but not surprisingly- Cam needed all the help she could get. A makeup technician arrived with a spackle can full of MAC and Smashbox along with a paint roller to secure the cosmetics onto her skin and a heavy glaze to set it all in place. I've repeatedly sent her coupons and advertisements for ProActiv and free samples of Noxema. I told her in a letter sent on lavender stationary sprayed with a mist of CK One, "Listen. Take care of your skin or else people will confuse those pock marks with planetary craters and a satellite will land on your face." The director comments, "Some days she was stunning, other days she looked terrible. The make-up artist had to work really hard on her." Meow!
 This is strange. Certainly more strange than when I learned Papa Joe Simpson was watching Ashlee have sex with Ryan on the tour bus. But I learned this particular news from one of my trusted readers and I believe it to be true. Ryan Cabrerra has "torn a ligament in his finger." I hate it when that happens. Usually its after I've been playing a rousing interpretation of dueling banjos when I need a splint and a Spongebob band-aid which clashes with my Prada but so be it. Ryan, who refuses to cut his hair because he can use it as a dusting implement, was playing a game of Nipples with a friend. What!? You've never played Nipples? I did once. It was on a street corner- 27th and 7th in New York City with a passing Christian Slater. In this case, Ryan was hitting and twisting his friends nipples as hard as possible and well, he ended up hurting himself. I think it was a male friend but just for our amusement let's pretend he was playing the game with...oh, I don't know...Mischa Barton?
 oooh. Man boobs and a beer belly. Nick Carter demonstrates trailer park chic! Oh fabulous. My cd collection will be complete once I get my hands on the new musical production of the once famous, now pudgy boy band Backstreet Boys. They should change the name from "boys" to "guys" since they are well out of their teens at this point. Backstreet Buddies has a wonderful connotation, doesn't it? Sounds like gay sex. The group says their latest music is "organic" like cotton underpants and fresh fruit. Says Howie, "It's like Backstreet Boys meets Matchbox Twenty meets Maroon5 meets Coldplay." Which roughly translated means: it's like my lunch meeting the back of my throat meeting the toilet. The boy-men sold over 73 million albums five years ago when the band was at their peak. I did not contribute to that. Oh all right! I own one of their cds. But I never listen to it. Oh! Come on! Please! Err...uh...it was a gift! From Paris.
Hot in handcuffs!
 If Christian Slater wanted to grab someones ass, I would have charged him ten bucks and let him have a go at my marshmallowy buttocks. Instead, he choose to manhandle a random woman on a Manhattan street this morning. The party boy/Tara Reid buddy/ actor/strip club aficionado grabbed a female on the street while being drunk and maybe even high, knowing Christian as I do which is not at all. I think it would have been a good story to tell if the woman was really a man and grabbed him back, but that's not how the story played out. Slater was cuffed and shoved into the back of a NYPD car like a a common criminal. He was charged with third degree sexual abuse. I guess buttocks are third degree, boobs are second and crotch grabbing is first? He used to be a nice boy in those 1980's movies. But now Christian is a bad ass, Burt Reynolds style. Burt got in trouble recently for smacking a reporters face during a red carpet walk. If he dared to lay a hand on my freshly dermabrasioned cheek, I would have ripped that toupee off so fast it would have made his head spin. And bleed because the toupee is actually sewed to his scalp with black thread and dental floss, giving it that salt and pepper look. Remember back a few years ago, Chris was arrested for assault and battery? Not too long ago his ex-wife threw a glass at his head in a hotel room. What a violent streak. If you should find yourself in his company, I suggest you don protective gear and be on the defensive.
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