Love Hurts (If You Let It)
In case you’re a little behind on the gossip rags… the night before the Grammy’s, singers Chris Brown and girlfriend Rihanna got into a squabble resulting in both of them backing out of scheduled performances at the ceremony. A few days later, the photo on the left was leaked showing that Rihanna suffered facial injuries in the incident.
A month later comes word that Rihanna and Chris are back together.
WHAT????
It sounds like Chris was one right hook shy of knocking some sense into her. While I’d probably be out the door if a guy even yelled at me, I sort of understand why a middle-aged woman with three kids who thinks she has no place to go might tolerate some abuse. But Rihanna is a young, beautiful, successful woman. Doesn’t she have family or people on her payroll whose job it is to keep her away from her young O.J.-in-training?
Apparently not because I just read this quote from her dad: “I will be supportive. If that’s the road she wants to choose, I’m behind her.” He’s going to be behind her? Well, I suppose that’s safer than standing in front of her and having to take the blows himself. I think it’s pretty obvious which side of the family she gets her judgment from. I wonder if he actually said that or if the tabloids simply pulled that quote from a Magic 8 ball that with a harder shake could have just as easily come up with, “The outlook isn’t good.” I just find it hard to believe any father would be “supportive” of a situation that leaves his daughter with a fat, bloodied lip (come to think of it, for the right price from the National Enquirer, my dad would probably do it himself).
I hope for Rihanna’s sake that she merely met with Chris and that it wasn’t a reconciliation. But if it was, perhaps Cover Girl will take advantage of her spokesmodel contract to introduce their new “Battered and Beautiful” line of concealers.
Oscar Roundup ’09
For the first time in eight years, I watched the Academy Awards live from a vantage point away from the Kodak Theatre. And now I remember why so many attendees spend most of the night at the bar– that is one boring show. Some thoughts on the Oscars:
– Judging by Reese Witherspoon’s black eyes and ragged dress, it appears that Chris Brown already has a new girlfriend.
–I wonder who wore the sheet with the higher thread count: Jessica Biel or Tilda Swinton. I hope they were smart enough to bring along the matching pillows to use during the terminally long telecast.
–Halle Berry, on the other hand, knows the Oscars is not a time for comfort and, as always, was the best dressed.
–Jennifer Aniston gets her big moment in the spotlight at the Academy Awards introducing a clip and the camera cuts to Angelina Jolie. I’m starting to wonder if Aniston gave everybody in Hollywood Herpes and that’s why they all seem to hate her so much.
–I loved it when Steve Martin stopped in the middle of introducing a clip and randomly said to Tina Fey, “DON’T…fall in love with me.”
–I also got a kick out of Ben Stiller’s impersonation of Joaquin Phoenix’s recent whackjob appearance on David Letterman. I was a little surprised there weren’t any Christian Bale references.
–The Japanese Oscar recipients gave the most entertaining acceptance speeches of the night. It’s about time somebody gave Mr. Roboto his props.
–After hearing so many winners talk about growing up in foreign countries never imagining they’d one day come to the United States and win an Oscar, I wondered if any American kids will one day realize their dream of answering tech support calls in India.
–Let me get this straight, Sean Penn can joke, “”You commie, homo-loving, sons of guns,” and not get bleeped but if somebody utters a friendly “Fuckin’ A this rules,” 10 guys are jumping for the censor button? Not that I have a problem with Penn’s comment, I’ll just never understand our society’s stupid animosity toward four letter words. I was bummed to miss the Mickey Rourke freak show but I liked Penn’s speech. There’s something particularly hot about a straight man speaking passionately in support of gay rights.
Oscar Picks ’09
I had a change of plans and won’t be returning to the Oscars this year but I did watch all of the Best Picture nominees (clocking in at a total of almost 11 hours) so of course I have to weigh in. I haven’t given away any spoilers so it’s safe to read if you haven’t seen the films.
Slumdog Millionaire: Since I tend to be disappointed by films with too much hype, I decided to start with the favorite just to get it out of the way. The story unfolds like a grim Forrest Gump, in which the extraordinary events of a young man’s past provide him with the answers on the Indian version of Who Wants To Be A Millionaire. Two hours later the credits roll with a strange little dance number (which, odd as it was, managed to be infinitely more entertaining than the horrific singing and dancing in the worst movie I saw all year, Mama Mia).
My philosophy is that the Best Picture stands alone, that without seeing any other films you know that’s the Best Picture. Occasionally there are two films in a year that deserve that honor, other years there are none. And it didn’t take long to realize this was the Best Picture of 2008. It’s a moving story that’s so well done I can’t even make my usual snarky comments. Go see it.
Frost/Nixon: Next up on my movie schedule was Frost/Nixon, which depicts the long interviews David Frost conducted with Richard Nixon after he left office in disgrace. Oops– I just gave away all the good parts. A movie about two dudes talking is just as riveting as it sounds and I have no idea how this ended up as a Best Picture nominee. The only thing that kept my attention was hoping that on one of his entries into the interview house, Nixon would be shot by someone on the grassy knoll who would put an end to the misery. I would have liked for this nomination to have been replaced by the clever indie, In Bruges.
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button: I’d heard plenty of cracks about how long and boring this movie is and when I saw the 2:43 run time, I was prepared for a snoozefest. If I’d seen it in a theatre I’d probably agree with the critics but I had a screener so I was able to watch it in chunks and I thought it was great. This is a Best Picture. It’s a shame it wasn’t a contender in last year’s weak race because I’m sure it would have won but I think Slumdog Millionaire is slightly superior and should take the Oscar.
The movie is about a man who ages backwards– the same premise that was attempted over 20 years ago when Mork and Mindy gave birth to a bouncing baby Jonathan Winters. This time around there are fewer rainbow suspenders and old men in diapers to ruin the story. My only real criticism of the movie is that toward the end, Button’s mind/body correlation seem to get confused and I don’t think it properly shows someone with a lifetime of experience trapped in a child’s body. Brad Pitt’s Best Actor nomination was a given for whoever played the part and since he didn’t do anything spectacular with the role, I think he’ll just have to settle for the Best Looking Couple Lifetime Achievement Award to be shared with Angelina.
Milk: After the beating the gay movement took in the elections, I’m GLAAD to see a gay-themed movie in the running for Best Picture but unfortunately this doesn’t have the chops to win. It’s the story of Harvey Milk, the first openly gay man elected to public office in California, who was later (as opposed to previously) murdered. It’s interesting to know his story but I probably could have gleaned just as much insight and entertainment value from reading his Wikipedia page in five minutes as I did in watching the two hour film. Sean Penn does a good job as Milk and his Best Actor nomination is deserved but, without having seen The Wrestler, I’d still give the award to Mickey Rourke as a consolation for the facial disfigurement he suffered in an attempt to resurrect his career. Plus I suspect Rourke’s acceptance speech will be the most entertaining part of the Oscar telecast and I always have to root for the train wreck.
The Reader: Last up was The Reader. Kate Winslet stars as every teenage boy’s fantasy: a loose older woman who’s unencumbered by moral boundaries and that annoying edumecation stuff like reading (though, depending on some guys’ folicle preferences, they might wish she knew how to read the words “Mach III”). It’s a pretty good flick that I’d rate third among the nominees (after Slumdog and Button). Winslet is the favorite to win Best Actress but I’m not sold on her performance because I’m not sure if I was supposed to sympathize with her character or not. Is she a Nazi war criminal with a heart of gold? Or is she a sexual predator with a heart of gold? In fact, I’m not even certain she has a heart of gold but her nipples do make cameo appearances in almost every scene and I’m sure the male members of the Academy will want to see that rewarded so I expect her to take the prize.
She Bangs…But Won’t Be Banging Him
It’s taken me a few days to post this because there’s a lot that I’ve had to process and come to terms with. After John-John and before Clooney-pie, my celeb crushes were Antonio Sabato Jr. and Ricky Martin, who are probably the two most beautiful male specimens to ever walk this planet.
Antonio is so stunning that, as a friend can attest, I swerved my car and almost caused an accident the first time I saw his Calvin Klein underwear billboard on Sunset. That’s some powerful art. Then I saw him at a party and there’s a slight chance that I may have ever-so-gently brushed up against him as I passed. But I swear it was not intentional, I simply miscalculated the four feet of open space that surrounded him.
As for Ricky, I made my lust for him known in a comedy newsgroup, which is what began my rivalry with Suzy Soro, who also laid claim to him (as if SHE had a chance with him. Hmmph). Naturally, this elicited a considerable amount of ridicule from our comedy brethren about Ricky’s sexuality.
I figured the boys were just jealous. So what if Ricky has never been photographed in public with a girl on his arm? That just means he respects a woman’s privacy. And so what if pictures were published of him working out on a beach with a male buddy? Can’t two gorgeous, muscled men in banana hammocks help each other stretch without it being considered homosexual? I mean, geez, look at these pictures- how could anybody possibly think he looks gay?
I even tried to use Ricky’s purported homosexuality against the religious folks, saying that if there really was a God, He would ensure that such a magnificent creature would propagate, so either he’s straight or there’s no God.
I hadn’t taken artificial means into consideration.
This week came word that he impregnated a woman with a turkey baster and she’s just given birth to his twin sons, following in the footsteps of Clay “I’m not gay (but I soooooo am)” Aiken. As much as it pains me to say it, I finally have to admit that Ricky Martin is…wow, this is tough for me to write- give me a moment for the tears to subside…Ricky Martin is…a butt pirate. A salami biter. A friend of Dorothy. Light in the loafers. He’s as queer as a 3 dollar rim job from Richard Simmons.
Ricky Martin is gay.
Ok, I said it. And I don’t feel any better about it. This confirmation has really thrown my brain into a tizzy. Not only do I have to accept that my Ricky is gay and that I’ve exhibited George Dubya levels of denial, but I also have to acknowledge that, based on my own argument, this information means there might be a God. And if there is, it means God is a misogynist. Ron Jeremy is straight but Ricky Martin is gay? If that’s not the work of a woman hater, I don’t know what is.
God may be a Tom Leykis fan and Ricky Martin may be gay, but he’ll always be straight in my fantasies- even when Antonio Sabato Jr. is right beside him.
Three Minutes In Hollywood
The action never stops.
1:12 am- Two guys run full speed toward my car. One tosses a bag to the curb as they keep running.
I’m guessing they weren’t getting a jump on the next Olympic trials.
1:15 am- I have to slam on my brakes to avoid hitting Ron Jeremy who darted in front of my car. I know he doesn’t look like he can dart but I assure you, he darted. The funniest thing to me is that even in the dark I knew it was him before I ever saw his face. He’s certainly got his own inimitable style. This of course got me thinking about the inevitable headlines had I actually struck and killed the beloved Mr. Jeremy:
“Comedian Brings Ron Jeremy’s Life To A Head”
“Driver Doesn’t See Dick Run”
“Woman Whacks The Hedgehog…For The Last Time”
“Poker Pro Offs Pro Poker”
“Porn Star Reaches His Climax After One Final Blow”
Nobody Should Put Baby On The Cover
Rumor has it that photos of Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt’s twins may have been purchased for as much as $11 million. Given that this is not the first time magazines have paid such high prices, I’m inclined to believe they do so because celebrity baby pictures actually sell magazines.
WHY??????
I get that my interest in all things baby is not on par with the average person’s but for the life of me I can not understand what is so fascinating about pictures of someone else’s newborns. They all pretty much look the same to me. I would understand the curiosity if the babies had cleft palates or cone heads– you know, something a little out of the ordinary. But we’re talking about Angelina and Brad whose bodies are incapable of producing anything that isn’t sublimely beautiful; I’m sure he poops chocolate smiley faces and she pukes rainbows.
Maybe I’ll want to see pictures of their offspring 10 years from now when the older adopted ones get pissed that they didn’t get their parents’ great genes and beat the crap out of the younger ones but in the meantime I’ll pass on the baby pictures and wait to buy the issue that features celebrities with cellulite. Now those are great pictures.
Bizarre Harping
As someone who often has to backtrack when the words I say don’t come out the way I intended them to, I’m somewhat forgiving when others do the same. Ok, maybe it doesn’t seem that way in here because I tend to exaggerate the foibles of celebrities but in reality when someone makes a retraction I let the offending statement slide. However, I do think there’s a limit to how much stupid shit a celebrity should spew in the course of an interview before one of their lackeys gives them a nudge and whispers, “Dude, you’re coming across like a jackass.” Gwyneth Paltrow could have used such as an assistant during her interview for the July issue of Harper’s Bazaar. Some excerpts:
On pregnancy: “I may force myself to do it one more time because the result is so worth it.” She has to force herself? Is she talking about creating life or eating brussel sprouts?
On adoption: “I do feel we’re so fortunate, and we kind of owe it to humanity.” Narcissistic much, Gwyn? If by “humanity” she means “tabloids” or “comedians,” then I’ll concede that the Kabbalah-worshiping, macrobiotic-dieting mother of Apple and Moses does indeed provide an invaluable service to “humanity.”
On Obama: “I think that having a president called Barack Hussein Obama in 2008 says that we are part of the world.” Yes, there’s no factor more important in a president than his name. America will be loved by the whole world if Obama can just find a running mate named Fidel Hitler.
On working out: “I don’t want to look like a mother who doesn’t care. For myself, for my work and for my relationship, I want to look good.” Because nothing shows your children you’re a mother who cares like rock hard abs.
On regrets: “My dad said to me that his only regret in life was that he had only two children and he didn’t have more.” At least we see where she gets her diarrhea of the mouth from. Am I correct to believe that’s a stupid thing for a parent to say, particularly to his child? Granted, my parents never fail to remind my twin brother and me that we were mistakes but at least they have the decency to follow it up by saying we were the best mistakes they ever made (then they wink and point at my brother so I don’t know what that’s all about).
And finally, some words of wisdom: “If you don’t have time to go to the waxer, then shave your legs.” Oprah better watch out- there’s a new oracle in town!
I’m Fucking Matt Damon
I can’t stop singing this damn song so I’m passing it along in the hope that infecting others will help me return to my usual tune, “I’m fucking George Clooney.”
(FYI- It was a gift from Sarah Silverman to her man Jimmy Kimmel for the fifth year anniversary of his show).
Heath Gone
In the last week, two young celebrities have met untimely deaths and since this stuff usually happens in threes, Britney Spears and Amy Winehouse would be wise to check the expiration dates on their respective deals with the devil. While Brad Renfro’s death garnered less press than his breakthrough role in “The Client” did, Heath Ledger’s will surely be talked about for years to come.
The police say no foul play was involved but I call foul on the woman who found him and (naturally) decided her first call should be to none other than an Olsen twin (I guess the wiser Uncle Jesse wasn’t available). If I discovered a movie star’s cold, lifeless body then spotted George Clooney’s number on the speed dial, sure, I’d be tempted to give him a ring. But I think I’d have enough sense to cut short a 911 call before dialing Georgie’s digits.
Oh, I forgot to mention Ledger was naked, which apparently is an obligatory fact to include in any article regarding his death. I would understand including his state of dress if he were wearing something like a Member’s Only jacket or culottes, because those would speak to his state of mind at the time of death. But when the legitimate news sources repeatedly go out of their way to mention that he was naked it sounds like they’re trying to titillate and that’s just so Enquireresque.
I feel bad for the guy for the way his body was traipsed through a crowd of photographers in a trash bag. It’s such an undignified final appearance for anybody- they might as well have brought him out in all his glory. It seems particularly unceremonious for movie stars who are used to traversing the red carpet of their own accord and I’m a little surprised nobody’s created special body bags for celebrities. Maybe some ambitious designer will get on that and have them included in the Oscar swag bags. I think a lot of celebrities would appreciate the opportunity to make one final best dressed list- and the designer would certainly benefit from one last “Who was he wrapped in?” nod.
I served Heath champagne on his biggest night in show biz and he seemed like a nice enough guy who tipped well. Actors may be a dime a dozen in this town but good tippers are a C-note a dozen and for that he will be missed.
Celebrity Skank-Off
The big Celebrity Skank-Off between Britney Spears, Paris Hilton, Nicole Richie and Lindsay Lohan has become an exciting race with Britney’s recent hit-and-run charges. For those having trouble keeping track of who’s in the lead, let’s break down the numbers:
Crotch shots: Photographs of each of their nether regions are in abundance but Nicole takes up the rear (ahem) since she actually knows enough to wear underwear with a short skirt. This also makes it impossible to tell if she’s courting pedophiles with the bald look like her peers so it cost her a few points. Britney earned a few extra points because she was already a mother when she started sharing her privates with the world and Lindsay got hers bumped for showing her stuff at the Kids Choice Awards. Paris takes the lead with her own tendency for exiting cars snatch first as well as for her sex tape. Totals:
Nicole- 4 points
Britney- 6 points
Lindsay- 7 points
Paris- 10 points
Driving records: Britney’s at the bottom of this list with just a hit-and-run and carrying her child on her lap. Next is Paris with a DUI and driving with a suspended license. A bit more hardcore is Nicole with her DUI and driving the wrong way on a freeway. Lindsay is the front runner for two arrests bookending a rehab stay for driving under the influence of cocaine and alchohol and for smashing up about 20 cars in the last year alone. Totals:
Britney- 4 points
Paris- 6 points
Nicole- 8 points
Lindsay- 9 points
Crazy-assed nonsense: Nicole is once again at the bottom of the list for her limited displays of insanity. Next up is Paris whose points mostly derive from her planting of a libelous story about a jewelry heiress and her sex tape. (Sidenote: The only purpose of a sex tape is for a guy to share it with the world when you break up. That’s it, so don’t ever make one. If more girls would learn this we’d have less socialites being thrust upon our collective consciousness). Lindsay earned extra crazy points for photographs of her seductively holding an enormous knife to Vanessa Minnillo’s throat and breasts. Britney shaved her head. ‘Nuff said. Totals:
Nicole- 1 point
Paris- 5 points
Lindsay- 8 points
Britney- 9 points
Dating history: Paris lost some serious points for managing to having not one but two cute GSHB (Greek Shipping Heir Boyfriends). In a world with maybe four GSHB total, that’s quite a feat. But she did date the asshole who marketed her sex tape which prevents her from being in negative digits in this category. Lindsay dated Brandon Davis who’s certainly a hottie but hardly the classiest guy around for publicly referring to her as “fire crotch.” Nicole was engaged to a DJ then impregnated by a rock star. Yeah, that’s gonna work out. Britney’s first marriage lasted 72 hours then she married a white trash wannabe rapper a few months after another woman gave birth to his second child then squeezed out two more lucrative spawn for him. Totals:
Paris- 2 points
Lindsay- 4 points
Nicole- 6 points
Britney- 9 points
Just plain dumb: Paris refers to herself as a role model and Nicole expects us to believe that the chunky girl from the first season of The Simple Life can’t seem to gain weight. Lindsay got arrested for a DUI a week after exiting rehab and apparently didn’t think to dispose of the narcotics in her pocket when she saw the flashing lights. Britney- where do I even start?
Paris- 3 points
Nicole- 4 points
Lindsay- 7 points
Britney- 8 points
Adding up the points we’ve got:
Nicole: 23 points
Paris: 26 points
Lindsay: 35 points
Britney: 36 points
Even though Lindsay and Britney have a commanding lead, I’m confident that Paris and Nicole will do whatever they can to catch up. Stay tuned to find out who wins the big Celebrity Skank Off!
Bye Bye Merv
I just read that Merv Griffin passed away. I had a great experience with him a few years ago and thought I’d share.
I was asked to be a part of a new show called “The Court of Common Sense.” It was sort of like “Judge Judy” except that the decisions were based solely on common sense rather than the law. Needless to say, I loved the concept.
Every day for about a week we did run-throughs in Merv Griffin’s Beverly Hilton office. A run-through is when you test out a show and hopefully work out the kinks before the pilot is filmed. There were only a handful of us involved in this- me as the wisecracking court reporter, the always-funny Steve Seagren as the sidekick bailiff, the show creator, Merv Griffin and one of Merv’s top development execs. We auditioned several people to be the judge, including Howie Mandel, Bobby Collins and Adam West. Yes, the original Batman. He was my favorite as I thought his dry sense of humor was a nice contrast to Steve’s goofy style and my smart ass style.
Quite often during the week, Merv would ask for my opinion on things since I was the only female in the room. I remember being surprised the first time he did that because I wouldn’t expect someone of his stature to even notice I was there much less care about what I thought. But he was so friendly and kept commenting on how lovely I was that I thought he was flirting with me and I told a friend that. My friend said, “Uh, you know Merv Griffin is gay, right?” Apparently I missed that issue of the National Enquirer but it made perfect sense since the ‘Mo’s love me (I think it’s because at my former height of 5’10″ and with my broad shoulders I resembled a bad drag queen).
When we actually filmed the pilot, Joe Rogan held the role of the judge and it was absolutely hilarious. I was certain that the show was going to be an enormous hit but for some unknown reason it wasn’t picked up. Serious error in someone’s judgment.
But in a town full of phony, conceited nobodies, it was nice to encounter someone at the top who still acknowledged the little guy with respect. Merv Griffin seemed like a class act to me- R.I.P.
Cash For Trash
I thought I was done with Paris Hilton for awhile then along comes a story like this:
LOS ANGELES (AP) — An empty can of gourmet dog food taken from Paris Hilton’s trash fetched $305 in an eBay auction. The sellers were from the Web site HollywoodStarTrash.com, which also listed several other Hilton items for sale on eBay.
A used toothbrush sold for $305; two envelopes sent to her while she was in jail sold for $510; and a Coke can pulled from her trash went for $51.
It kind of scares me that there are people in this world with free access to the Internet who can spare $300 on an empty can of dog food.
WHY???? What’s the plan? Will they display it in their curio cabinet alongside their Fabergé egg collection? Turn it into a candy dish on their coffee table? Did they actually think that Paris Hilton herself allowed her delicate hands to touch a stinking can of dog food? And even if she did, WHO FUCKING CARES?
Obviously, plenty of morons do. Tomorrow I’m going to buy a map of the stars’ homes and some rubber gloves. I need a piece of this action.
Paris’ Jailhouse Rock
I feel guilty that I haven’t shared all the information I’ve received from Paris’ PMS (Private Messaging System). Probably the juiciest news came a couple days ago:
Monday @ 1 pm: Paris ate a bowl of baked beans.
Monday @ 1:15 pm: Paris farted.
Juicy indeed. Paris’ PMS was money well-spent.
Beyond that, our favorite heirhead has been busy crying and phoning elderly newswomen. Oh, and she found God. I guess that explains that “undisclosed medical condition” she’s suffering from: she’s nuts. It’s been well-documented here that I don’t believe in God but I do believe if God does exist and he hasn’t found you in 26 years maybe it’s because he didn’t want to be found. I can’t help but picture God like Saddam Hussein, holed up in a crawl space that Paris stumbled upon in her cell, reluctantly admitting to her, “Yeah, I’m God. I left you like 10,000 clues to help you find Allah instead. I can’t believe I got so sloppy.”
Paris has also been using her jail time to film a music video, which was directed by a comedian I know, Allan Murray, and his partner Sean Haines at Omovies. I understand they are currently in negotiations to film her jailhouse stay 24/7 in the format of Big Brother. For the low low price of $199 for the remainder of her sentence, you could subscribe to a live feed and see for yourself all the goings on, such as the Head of Jailhouse competition and the Lee Baca Veto Competition. They’ve even promised if there are at least five million subscribers, there will be nightly pillow fights with the accidental removal of clothing that goes with those. Keep your fingers crossed that they’ll be successful in bringing such riveting viewing to our homes. In the meantime, check out their video- I’m sure you’ll get a chuckle.
**Warning and Disclaimer** The following video contains a melody from an actual Paris Hilton song. It will be annoying and it will get stuck in your head. By viewing this video you absolve the folks at Jenée.net and its parent company, Jenée’s Mom and Dad Inc., of all responsibility for any pain and suffering it may cause. And it will.
