Sorry I’ve been outta touch these last few days — I’ve been in New York on important business for “Yeeeah!” And by “important business” I mean “drinking with strangers” and “getting lost.” Special thanks to locals About: Celebrity Gossip and Metadish for dinner and drinks and all around kick-ass time.

Anyway, I learned some important things about the city during my three-day stay. Ten important things, to be exact. I made a list for you, in case you ever visit.

TOP TEN THINGS I LEARNED IN NEW YORK CITY:

10. Maps are for pussies.

9. You can never honk a car horn enough.

8. Never, EVER order a “Buttery Nipple” in an Irish pub in New York City, because: a) the bartender will refuse to make it, and b) several people will volunteer to kick your ass, even if you’re a girl.

7. Cigarettes in New York are made from shredded one hundred dollar bills instead of tobacco. I figured this out with the help of a little something we in the South like to call “math” — they’re EIGHT FUCKING DOLLARS a pack.

6. No meandering. At any time. Anywhere. Hurry the fuck up already.

5. Being on live TV isn’t “cool”; it’s an annoyance. I went outside my hotel one morning and Fox News was parked outside, desperately pleading with passersby to stop and be on live television. I watched him get rebuffed not once, not twice, but fourteen different times while I smoked one of my eight-dollar cigarettes.

4. Only the very elderly and the legally insane attempt to operate motor vehicles.

3. Good luck finding “Mountain Dew,” “Mello Yello,” or “Pabst Blue Ribbon.” I had sense enough not to ask after the whole Buttery Nipple debacle.

2. This one was a surprise — not all foreigners smell!

And the number one thing I learned in NYC:

1. Everything’s cooler in New York.

You can expect your daily gossip fix today, junkies. Thanks for understanding the lack of posts while I was out of town. And by “understanding the lack of posts” I mean “sending me 4,000 spittle-flecked enraged emails telling me what a lazy douchebag fucktard I was and how I should die in a fire.” You guys are the best!

I’m sure when you think “parental role model” and “maternal instinct,” the first person that comes to mind is Courtney Love. Spot-on. You can’t forget the important role Kurt Cobain played in his child’s life before he offed himself in a heroin-induced stupor. Sunday’s Page Six revealed,

It was a wild scene at the hospital when Courtney Love gave birth to her and Kurt Cobain’s only child, Frances Bean, an upcoming tell-all reveals. In “Nirvana - The Biography,” author Everett True describes how Cobain and Love both ended up at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in L.A. within days of each other in August 1992 - the grunge rocker checking in for a 60-day heroin detox stint and Love, a few days later, for complications arising from her pregnancy.

Two weeks into his stay, Love found herself about to go into labor. According to True: “Courtney grabbed her intravenous drip stand at 4 in the morning, and wheeled it down the corridors to where Kurt was staying. ‘You get out of this bed and come down now!’ she screamed. ‘You are not leaving me to do this by myself, [fuck] you!’

“Her husband followed her to the delivery room - weakened from his treatment, and hooked up to an IV stand himself - and passed out just moments before Frances was born.” Then things got even weirder when, as Courtney related to True, “I’m having the baby, it’s coming out, [Kurt's] puking, he’s passing out and I’m holding his hand and rubbing his stomach while the baby’s coming out.”

I got a little tear in my eye when I read that. It sounds like something from a movie, or a wonderful fairy tale. A fairy tale where the young princess cowers under her bed while the queen and king scream obscenties at each other and then shoot up in the tower room. And the king wields a shot gun and the queen screams, “I should have had a fucking abortion!” on a regular basis. The end.

Have you seen ex-Friends actress Courtney Cox’s new show on FX, “Dirt?” Yeah, me neither. You, me and about 80% of the US population aren’t watching. Show execs are scrambling to find a way to boost the ratings, and everyone in the industry knows there’s only two ways to boost ratings: 1) Lesbian kissing, and 2) naked sex scene with Rosie O’Donnell. Page Six reveals the master plan:

Jennifer Aniston is guest-starring in [Courtney Cox] Arquette’s FX show, “Dirt,” playing her archenemy, a rival tabloid editor. But even better, according to Michael Ausiello of TVGuide.com, “Aniston’s character is a lesbian. What’s more, she won’t just mouth off to Cox’s tightly wound counterpart; she’s going to share a lip lock with her.” That should pump up the ratings.

Maybe it would, if it wouldn’t be like watching two hens peck each other to death. Jen and Courtney are two of the birdiest-lipped actresses in Hollywood. Gross. If they really wanted to boost ratings, Jen should be joined by a doofy-but-lovable male character and an eccentric and quirky female character. Maybe a super-sarcastic male character and a giant douche male character. And then the should change the name of the show to “Friends.” I bet people would watch then.

Ever heard of “silver dollar pancakes?”  Have a look at Mena Suvari’s nipples.  (Dlisted)

Keely Hazell still looks hot, even without a dick in her mouth.  (Popoholic)

Jack Bauer rescues a nine-year old boy trapped on a cliff.  My panties would be so wet right now… if I were wearing any, that is.  (Celebitchy)

Lindsay Lohan won’t be able to witness her new film being booed first-hand at Sundance.  (A Socialite’s Life) 

Vince Vaughn scores an orgy.  (CityRag)

Keira Knightley will sue you for saying she’s anorexic.  And then pass out from dehydration.  (ICYDK)

Michael Jackson tries to sell Neverland Ranch to the Beckhams.  Jesus Juice not included.  (Metadish)

Mark your calendars, folks. Today is the day that floundering pop star Jessica Simpson became “officially ugly.” Well, to be technical, it was actually on Friday, but for holiday purposes, we’ll denote Monday so that the three-day weekend will fall at the beginning of the week, which is always better. Anyway, she and some friends headed to Hahm’s Healing Hands massage in West Hollywood for a little beauty “R & R.” I can only hope that “R & R” stands for “Replacing those sausages with actual lips” and “Ripping out those shitty hair extensions.” Or “Re-inventing herself” and “RGoing away for a really long time into a lair with other bloated fish-lipped trolls to watch “Newlyweds” reruns and Dane Cook’s stand-up comedy for hours at a time, much like Chinese water torture.” Although that last one doesn’t technically begin with the letter “R,” it probably does in Chinese, so it still counts.

One more shot of the officially ugly after the jump. You might want to show it to your boss and see about getting off for the rest of the day. Warn him or her first.

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Actress Joanna Krupa, whose work includes the stunning portrayal “Friend at Leo’s Party” in 2001’s “Planet of the Apes” and “guest” on “The Jenny Jones Tenth Anniversay Show,” spent a little time Friday evening promoting the social responsibility that hot chicks have to get naked. Naked, but with lots of lip gloss and high heels and provocative staring. Oh — and there was something else about fur, too. I don’t really remember. Something like, “Fur is Awesome!” or “Bear skin rug, me, naked, by a fire. And you pouring champagne on my exposed breasts and whipped cream on my nipples. The bear skin rug’ll probably get all sticky from the alcohol and whipped cream and jizz and stuff, but we can just throw it in the fire when we’re through fucking. Because there’s plenty more where that came from! Hooray for fur!” That wasn’t really the important part, though. The main gist of the message was that nudity was imperative for hot chicks.

More naked poster displays (LSFW) after the jump.

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“Victoria’s Secret Angels Appreciation Week” commences. (CelebFart)

Two black people winning Golden Globes still counts as “racism” in Matthew Knowles’ book. (Seriously? OMG)

Enough Angelina Jolie to “get you through the weekend,” if you know what I mean. (Use My Computer)

James Franco “just says no” to freckles and herpes. (Celebitchy)

Oprah just another “teen pregnancy statistic?” (Celebslam)

Petra Nemcova is “The Devil in a Red Dress.” (Gabsmash)

John Mayer has some new “plot ideas” for “Grey’s Anatomy.” (Spank Cheeks)

Britney Spears and David Lee Roth, “two peas in a pod.” An ugly pod. (Best Week Ever)

Julieta Prandi’s ass is “the Alpha and the Omega.” (The Bastardly)

Britney Spears made a quick stop into a convenience store last night for some Vagisil and powdered doughnuts (well, I don’t know that for sure, because I couldn’t see inside her bag, but it seems about right) and spent a few moments perusing the Wall Street Journal before checking out. Wait, did I say Wall Street Journal? Because I meant Us Weekly. She stood there, with the very same tabloid she tearfully proclaimed to be “trash” in that finger-quote-laden interview with Matt Lauer last year, and read up on her whirlwind romance with the artfully-bearded Isaac Cohen. And that right there, people, is why I devote my days to this line of work. Blogging, I mean. You see, the celebrities do care what is said about them; they do read the gossip blogs; and by God, if I can make Paris Hilton insecure enough to fix her wonky eye or Britney Spears sob her way through a yeast infection and box of Dunkin Doughnuts, then I’ve accomplished what I’ve set out to do. It’s good, honest work, much like cabinet-making or being a farmer. Or maybe it’s more like being a one-legged Turkish prostitute with boils. I vaguely remember hearing something about that. Well, anyway, it pays the bills.

In response to the rave reviews I gave myself on the Katherine McPhee “massive rack” post from Wednesday, I’m bringing you yet another glimpse of the “American Idol” singer today — the “naughty librarian” side. She’s not even wearing makeup and she still looks sexy. No photoshop either. You know you’re hot when you can saunter down the street sans makeup, in your glasses, without a computer geek blending and cloning and airbrushing you up. Another good way to tell if you’re hot? A massive rack. And the only thing I can say to that is, “check and check, baby!”

More sexy spectacled McPhee after the jump.

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Donald Trump launched his very own brand of vodka with a party Wednesday night, and plenty of douchebag pseudo-celebrities showed up to get hammered Russian-style. Jessica and Ashlee Simpson, seen above, came dressed as clowns. Anyway, the new Trump Vodka is created by a team of third-generation master distillers and — naturally — is ridiculously overpriced. Gawker quoted the Donald describing his new product:

Trump Super Premium Vodka is a big idea. The Premium Vodka category is where the very best of fashionable spirits brands compete. That is the place for the Trump brand. By the summer of 06, I fully expect the most called for cocktail in America to be the T&T or the Trump and Tonic .

I bet that Trump Vodka tastes like ego and hairspray. With plum and cinnamon accents and an overbearing-pompous-ass finish.

More of no-name celebrity types at the launch party after the jump.

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Celebutant Paris Hilton has finally decided to do something about her notoriously wonky left eye. Page Six explains,

According to a Beverly Hills source, Hilton stopped by a plastic surgeon’s office earlier this week, seeking to “fix her drooping left eyelid.” Our insider says Paris had hush-hush surgery six years ago to lift her lids. The muscles of her left eye were supposedly damaged as a result, “causing it to droop more than the right” - a look that was once parodied on “South Park.”

And also parodied mercilessly on this site. Honestly, I’m surprised she hasn’t tried to correct that eye sooner. Paris spends two-thirds of her waking hours admiring herself in a mirror — in between giggling vapidly at firecrotch jokes and getting porked, of course — and I imagine eight solid hours of narcissism a day would make the wonky eye all too apparent. And then there’s the “wonk-wonk, wonk-wonk” sound I kept murmuring under my breath while following her around that one night at Hyde. It actually made her cry. It was really funny, because her right eye cried harder than her left one. I laughed and pointed and everything. Lazy eyes are a real scream!

Newly-single Cameron Diaz hooks up with Gisele Bundchen’s leftovers. (Socialite Life)

P. Diddy likes boobies. (Ninja Dude)

The First Annual Pajiba Shit List! Highlights include “Scarlett Johansson’s mouth appears to be full of marbles” and “Nicolas Cage looks like a mandrill.” Have truer words ever been spoken? (Pajiba)

Jessica Simpson is disabled. Not like retarded disabled; apparently, her boobs are her handicap. (Egotastic)

What the fuck has Clint Eastwood done to his face? He’s supposed to be grizzled, man. It’s part of his appeal. (CityRag)

K-Fed is the poor man’s Isaac Cohen. (popbytes)

Rosie O’Donnell, art enthusiast. (Gawker)

Charlize Theron has the best legs in Hollywood. (CelebNewsWire)

Adrianne Curry sounds off on Lindsay Lohan. (I’m Not Obsessed)

Salma Hayek’s dog saved her life. I said ‘dog,’ not ‘boobs.’ (Celebitchy)