 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.
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