Actress AnnaLynne McCord spent her weekend lapping up the sun in South Beach, and boy did she look good doing it. I just have six words for you: Nine. Oh. Two. One. Oh-yeah, baby! See how I did that right there? Yeah, I should probably go lay down now before I hurt myself.1 Don’t want to blow any circuits in the ol’ cerebrum!
1And not out of shame and self-loathing, either, but because I forgot to stretch properly before tossing out that kind of zinger. Somebody’s gonna be feeling that one tomorrow!
Look! Madonna from Like a Prayer and Mary-Kate Olsen had a baby, and nobody tried to put a stake through its heart or make it have sex with Keanu Reeves while Al Pacino watched. Vanity, definitely everybody’s favorite sin!
Supermodel Kate Moss hit up Surin Beach in Thailand last week with The Kills’ guitarist Jamie Hince. I guess her bra never made it past customs. Assuming of course that that pink blobby thing under there is supposed to be a nipple on a breast. It could just as easily be a robust skin tag or an extra pinky toe growing out of a mound of fibrous connective tissues. Carnies have to come from somewhere, you know?
Break out the disinfecting wipes, boys — Amy Winehouse is back on the prowl! The Daily Mail says
Amy Winehouse appears to have attracted the attentions of a mystery man. The Rehab star cuddled up to an unidentified hunk [while] on holiday [in] St. Lucia. Last week, the singer was alleged to have had a secret affair with an unidentified man who played Father Christmas at her Caribbean hotel.
With her clear skin, glossy hair and obvious lust for life, energetic Amy is a world away from her previously bedraggled figure suffering from the excesses of London life.
I’m sorry — are we talking about the same girl here? I was talking about Amy Winehouse. The one with the Hall and Oates hair and the flat tire titties. I don’t know who the Daily Mail thought they saw, but it sure as hell wasn’t Amy fucking Winehouse. Any “lust for life” Amy might have could probably be cured with a little Vagisil and some loose-fitting cotton panties.
Lindsay Lohan and Samantha Ronson rang in the new year by screaming at each other in a nightclub and waling on each other outside their hotel room. Just like Mom and Dad used to do! Page Six says
On New Year’s Eve, the couple went nuclear and started screaming at each other while hosting a party at Mansion. After Lohan and Ronson went back to the hotel, several sources heard crashing sounds and screaming coming from their room until the fight spilled out into the hallways at about 11 a.m.
“They were punching each other - it was bad,” a spy said. “And they were doing this in front of all of us.” At one point, Lohan dropped to her knees and cried, “Why are you doing this to me?” And Sam just said, “I don’t know you.”
Eventually hotel security was called and photos were taken of the girls’ trashed room. “Mirrors were broken and it was a complete mess,” another spy said.
Several hours later, still fighting, Lohan and Ronson tried to board an American Airlines flight back to Los Angeles. Lohan was said to be such a mess before takeoff that flight attendants asked her if she’d like to disembark. She refused.
That just proves that their love is the real thing after all. I’ve learned from watching episodes of COPS that it’s not true love unless you have a steady cycle of screaming fistfights and broken dishes and kitchen knife-brandishing in a double wide trailer. I’ve also learned that if you’re high on PCP and not wearing any pants, you are magically immune to tasers and pepper spray. That little tidbit has come in handy more times that I can count, believe me. There’s not a life lesson around that can’t be gleaned from a good episode of COPS! PBS can go suck it.
For those of you who are freezing in subarctic temperatures, here are some pictures of Kristin Cavallari enjoying the sun in South Beach, FL on New Years Eve. You can be comforted in the fact that narcissistic celebrity-wannabes who get paid obscene amounts of money for doing nothing useful get to sit on a beach while you’re left rotating your front and backside in front of the heater to keep warm. Cheers!
Verne Troyer tried to hit on Kelly Osbourne. Shiver. (The Blemish)
Charles Barkley was rushing to get a blowjob when he got pulled over. Now if THAT isn’t a valid excuse to be driving while drunk, I don’t know what is. (Socialite Life)
Here’s Billie Piper and her husband Laurence Fox enjoy their sunny holiday on Miami Beach with their newborn baby.
Bleh. Come on, how hard is it to throw a freaking blanket over you? Not everyone wants to see you suckling in public. But I guess if you’re Billie Piper (I have no idea who she is, do you?) you need all the exposure you can get!
TMZ is reporting that John Travolta’s 16-year-old son, Jett, died today in the Bahamas while vacationing with Travolta and his mother, actress Kelly Preston. Jett was rumored to have been autistic, though Travolta denied it, saying he suffered from Kawasaki Syndrome, which often leads to heart disease.
Travolta’s attorney Michael Ossi says Jett suffered a seizure at his family’s vacation home at the Old Bahama Bay Hotel on Grand Bahama Island. Attempts to revive him were unsuccessful and he died on scene.
Very sad, and a really screwed up way to start the new year.
Hello dear friends, it’s Sonya and I’m taking up the reins for the rest of this very lazy day after New Year’s Day.
So here I am in my office doing absolutely diddly squat, wishing I had the opportunity to bask my ass in the sun and get a little tan like lucky duck Chloë Sevigny, who might possibly have the most bland face in Hollywood. Perhaps she needs a little down-time to visualize what hideous outfit she can next parade herself around in so that people will say, “Well, that Chloë Sevigny might not have the most interesting face, but she has such unique style!” Clever little minx!
“Comedianne” Kathy Griffin spent her New Year’s Eve co-hosting CNN’s End of the Year Countdown with Anderson Cooper, and by “comedianne” I mean “social wart” and by “co-hosting” I mean “bleating ‘Shut up! I don’t go to your job and knock the dicks out of your mouth!’ at an inaudible hecklers on live TV.” Good times. This is why you don’t hire Kathy Griffin to do anything except impersonate a woman at a drag show or feast on little children in her gingerbread house.
