Recent photos of Tara Reid looking like she ought to be crouched over a bowl of gruel and crawling with flies have sparked rumors that she could have anorexia. Not so, the “actress” says. She tells OK! Magazine

“I’m not too thin. I go up 10 pounds, I go down 10 pounds. I was thin for a movie that I just finished… What have I ever really done? Dance on a table? Who doesn’t drink with their friends and have a good time? If I have a drink in my hand, it doesn’t make me an alcoholic. If I want a glass of wine, I want a glass of wine!”

Then some emphatic table pounding and frantic breathing and a couple of lower eyelid twitches before she turned the bottle up and polished off its contents in a single gulp. “Besides,” she added as she lit her cigarette, “I eat meat all the time. You know — pant sausage, pork loin, tube steak, one-eyed salami, meat balls and gravy, trouser snake, bologna…”

Tara in Indonesia last month:

Tara Reid took a major spill the night and jacked up her elbow the night before her big Bali photoshoot for an Australian clothing company. Yes, you read that right. Someone actually elected Tara Reid to be the face of their product. I guess it’s hard to put “gonorrhea” and “shame” in a string bikini, what with their lack of physical form and all. Gatecrasher says

The actress was allegedly treated at a local hospital for cuts and bruises suffered during a night out on the party island of Bali. Reid arrived there Friday night from Australia, planning to shoot ads for an Aussie sleepwear range. But X17 reported that she “fell accidentally while out late at night partying” and was treated before returning to her hotel to recover.

With Tara Reid, that’s just par for the course. I’m pretty sure that “getting fall-down piss-your-pants drunk” is actually listed under “skills” on her resume, right after “blow jobs,” “butt sex,” “liver failure,” and “nipples.”

Tara doing the bikini photoshoot in Bali yesterday:

The Daily Mail has pictures of Tara Reid poolside at the Palazzo Versace Hotel in Australia yesterday, and Christ Almighty are they terrifying. And that belly chain with the plastic beads she’s wearing? That’s a scar and a couple of bolts holding her disgusting frame together.

The American Pie star has a large scar around her entire waist and five screw-like pins bolted into her body. She has been also been left with a rippled and sagging stomach after [botched liposuction].

She looks like some kind of slutty Frankenstein brought to life. Like an evil scientist stitched together a couple of out-of-work porn stars and low-rent hookers and then set them on fire. Only she escaped his lair before he was finished and headed for the Australian coast to get tag-teamed and ejaculated on while a production crew films it. “Skank-enstein — the Erotic Tale of a Whore Brought to Life,” coming soon to an adult theater near you.

I know the first thing that comes to mind when I think “Tara Reid” — besides “stink,” of course — is “useless whore.” So how apropos that we find her hosting “The Hookers Ball” in Australia this weekend! The flier reads:

Special Guest: Tara Reid, Hollywood A-Lister and star of American Pie

A-Lister? Is this some kind of joke? Does the “A” stand for “acerebral” or “anathema?” Maybe “asshat?” Is there some variation of “skank” that begins with “A” of which I’m unaware? Ah, of course! How did I miss it? It’s Hepatitis A. I guess Hepatitis “B” and “C” aren’t getting the screen time they used to. Well, that’s Hollywood for you.

If you’ve always wanted to know what Tara Reid smells like, you’ve come to the right place, my friend. Here’s a hint: it ain’t self-esteem! According to Rush & Molloy

Don’t look for Tara Reid on another episode of “Scrubs.” Appearing at the New York Comedy Festival, show creator Bill Lawrence said Reid was his least favorite guest star - “not because she wasn’t a nice person,” but because she allegedly stank of booze and smokes. (Reid’s rep didn’t return an e-mail.)

Just booze and smokes, huh? No mention of ball sweat and desperation? Strange. Well, if you want to imbibe the heady scent of Tara Reid for yourself but don’t live in L.A., you could try this handy alternative: lure a couple of homeless winos and some former teenage runaways turned prostitutes into a tiny, poorly-ventilated room, then crank up the heat while making them do jumping jacks and mountain climbers. Make sure they all have lit cigarettes and a couple of bottles of Thunderbird. It’s fine if a couple throw up or use the corner as a toilet — it just adds to the authenticity. Now lock them in said room for three days to allow the subtler notes to ferment, open the door and mist with Britney Spears’ Curious and voilà! — Tara Reid. The only difference is the smell won’t sleep with you.

Tara stinkin’ up The Ivy November 23rd: