Pam Anderson clings desperately to her rapidly waning beauty like a turd on a dog’s hindquarters–they’re both yesterday’s tidbits and they’re both full of germs. Now Magazine reports,

Pammy says she’s planning to strip off for Playboy – for the 14th time!

‘I don’t like the number 13,’ she says. ‘I’ve got one more left in me.’

So how does the mother of two keep her enviable figure?

‘I don’t have an exercise routine,’ she says. ‘I run after my kids and I’m outside all the time on the beach. I’m just very active.’

I bet the symptoms from her Hepatitis B help with keeping her thin too, since the symptoms include nausea, lack of appetite, and diarhhea. Will Playboy have a companion article about that, too?

At Vivienne Westwood show in London:

First off, Lindsay Lohan turned down Playboy.  From Page Six:

IT’S once nude, twice shy for Lindsay Lohan. The Sapphic-leaning star has turned down a $700,000 offer to do an eight-page topless spread in Playboy’s 55th-anniversary issue this January. “If there’s nudity, then the answer’s no . . . She’s not going down the [New York] magazine road again,” Lohan’s rep told Playboy’s creative consultant, Hal Lifson, referring to Lindsay’s naked Marilyn Monroe tribute last winter. Lifson said he hoped to have Lohan do a tribute to ’60s sex kitten Ann-Margret and her film “Kitten With a Whip,” which is one of Lohan’s faves.

Well, naturally.  Lindsay gets naked for free at least a couple times a year, so of course it would be totally beneath her to get paid nearly three quarters of a million dollars to go topless.  Her boobs are not for public display!  That’s why she never wears a bra, and favours saggy baggy tank tops so she’s always hanging out all over the place.  When she’s feeling especially demure, she wears clingy see-through stuff.  She is KLASSY, and she don’t need no stinking Playboy!

In other news, La Lohan may or may not be on speaking terms again with her trashtastic father.  That’s what he says anyway, and he’s SUCH a font of truth and reliability.  Michael Lohan has recently been spending his time talking smack about Samantha Ronson and yammering about how he still wants a stupid show, and then his father died.  Lindsay skipped the wake, but Dear Old Daddy seems to think this was maybe just a scheduling conflict or something, and says she’s totally gonna be at the burial.  From E! News:

While devastating, the elder Lohan said the passing of his 73-year-old father has brought his family closer together, and while Lindsay was not present for her grandpa’s funeral, she will be present for the final service.

“She is going to be at the burial,” Lohan told E! News. “All my kids will be there.”

I guess that could theoretically happen.  I mean, anything’s possible.  For example, Lindsay’s dad actually said something nice about Lindsay’s mother:

“And I can’t believe how great Dina has been,” he said of his ex-wife. “She has been wonderful. She has been the woman I married. She has been great.”

Whatever.  Dina Lohan is a famewhoring, stage mothering beast, and Michael Lohan is a famewhoring, badmouthing lunatic.  They turned Lindsay into a drunk, needy slut and Ali’s so used up she looks like she has Progeria.  Those girls would have been better off being wards of the state.

In honor of the U.S. Women’s Swim Team and the Olympics, Playboy models are donning each of the U.S. Team’s official suits from the past six Games on Playboy’s website. (Nine-time Olympic medalist Dara Torres in this year’s suit on the right; Playboy’s Cyber Girl of the Month in the same suit on the left). Because nothing says “homage” like a bunch of fake-tittied no-names in body makeup wearing the same suit you trained six hours a day, seven days a year for ten years to wear. Look forward to Playboy’s “Bad Habit: a Tribute to the Many Looks of Mother Teresa” and “Supreme Whore — Beneath the Robes of the Women of the Supreme Court” to debut sometime this fall. Playboy^TM — because sometimes women get too big for their britches.

Playboy’s version:

The real deal:

Girls Next Door’s Holly Madison was on hand for something called “Playboy’s 3rd Annual Bunny Hunt” this weekend, which I’m guessing is just a code name for “Stare at Big Fake Tits All You Want” Day. Brilliant. I’ve already started a petition to make it a national holiday, along with “Use the Force Day” and “Punch Your Boss in the Balls” day. All we do is wait to hear back from Congress and we’re golden.

Larry Birkhead plunked down three grand at an auction this weekend for lingerie worn by Anna Nicole Smith in a Playboy shoot before she died. According to Us Weekly

Birkhead paid $1,800 for a pink bustier and $1,000 for a white negligee because he wanted to give their 1-year-old daughter Dannielynn a keepsake of her mother.

“I have a lot of history I have to put together that she doesn’t really know about,” he told the Associated Press. “Playboy was such a big part of Anna’s career.”

Nothing makes a better keepsake for child than some of momma’s used lingerie. Not to mention the panache a hot little crotchless number mounted over the crib brings to a one-year old’s room! All Larry needs to do now is pipe in Motley Crue’s “Girls, Girls, Girls” and stack a couple of gin-soaked singles by the crib, and — except for the noticeably absent puke — you’d almost swear Anna Nicle was right there in the room with you.

Celebrity Rehab’s Dr. Drew offers his opinion on the impetus behind celebrities like Tom Cruise joining cultish religions in next month’s issue of Playboy. Page Six quotes him as saying

“A lot of people in the public eye who behave strangely have mental illness we can learn from, and much of it is based on childhood trauma, without a doubt. Take a guy like Tom Cruise. Why would somebody be drawn into a cultish kind of environment like Scientology? To me, that’s a function of a very deep emptiness and suggests serious neglect in childhood - maybe some abuse, but mostly neglect.”

Tom Cruise, of course, instantly unleashed his lawyer:

“This unqualified television performer who is obviously just looking for notoriety is so grotesquely unprofessional as to pretend to diagnose Tom and others without ever meeting them. He seems to be spewing the absurdity that all Scientologists are mentally ill.”

And it looks like it worked. Dr. Drew, probably fearing for his life now, had his PR flack issue the following statement:

Dr. Drew meant no harm to Mr. Cruise and apologizes if his comments were hurtful. Under no circumstances is Dr. Drew making a blanket diagnosis about Scientology nor Mr. Cruise whom he does not know. Dr. Drew was simply using Mr. Cruise as an example of someone who is recognizable to help the public understand. Again, Dr. Drew meant him no harm.

Jesus, what a puss. If you’re going to say something, stick behind it. Trying to retract a statement is like trying to un-shit a turd. It’s still gonna stink no matter what you do, and it’s just going to be messy for everybody involved. Just ask Bobby Brown if you don’t believe me.

Katie Holmes BEFORE Tom:

Kate Holmes after:

Kim Kardashian didn’t pose for the December issue of Playboy because of the money or her desperate need for attention — she did it for fat girls the world over. What a philanthropist! The NY Daily News reports

Kim Kardashian had reason for posing nude for Playboy’s December issue - and it wasn’t the paycheck. “I did it because I’m not one of those stick-skinny girls you see. I felt like girls today need to see a normal body,” she told us at the Morgan 4 Ever launch at Underbar last week. “My mom actually pushed me to do it! I think she’s living vicariously through me a little bit.”

Maybe someone should tell Kim that fat girls aren’t the ones buying Playboy. The magazine’s target demographic is guys who enjoy jerking off and the occasional socially relevant read while they’re on the crapper. If the Great Satan wanted to empower fat girls so bad, she should have tried posing in Woman’s Day or the Dress Barn catalog or Fat Girl Weekly or whatever it is that fat girls read in between eclairs and corndogs. I’m guessing magazines coated in mylar to make the pages impervious to grease stains. Speaking of which, there’s a novel idea, Playboy! Lamination! The gift that keeps on giving. Maybe Kim did inspire something good after all.

Kim shopping at Ralph’s on Wednesday:

Today is Friday, and Fridays at my house are always naked Fridays, so here’s some skank I never heard of from “The Apprentice” getting naked in Playboy. Her name is Kristine Lefebvre, which rolls of the tongue like a curious melange of rubber cement and wire-hair terrier fur. Kristine’s, um… fit, I guess, and clearly has the best implants money can buy, but not even magical fake titties can make me forget about the mushroom cloud billowing out of her ass crack there. Sexy. Maybe there’s some Spanish moss tattooed around her asshole, too. Or a sunburst. Or hemorrhoids, or a pair of lips, or the other half of a winking pirate. Who knows what kind of devilish delights are hidden between the legs of a woman who’d tattoo her own ass crack!