Slippery When Whet

Blind Vice Friday is bitchier than ever! So much so, supervain Sheila Muff-Driver's stupidly driving herself into money-grabbing oblivion. Plus, Brendan Fraser's pounds puzzle us while Will Ferrell laments a lost career in hot-oil body pumping, check it out!

Supersatisfy Me!

You know how such nasty little anything’s just come out from everywhere when two famous folk get divorced, right? And no, we aren't gabbin’ Guy and Madonna here, hons. Afraid we’re going to goss about the once utterly doable hunk known as Brendan Fraser, who just divorced from his wife, Afton Smith, of nine years (just a few months short of Tom and Nicole's near decade!). Witnesses claiming to have firsthand knowledge of purchases made by Fraser may help to explain, at least partially, what the ef went wrong with that marriage. And if you’re thinking along the lines of negligees for Maria Bello—who was rumored to be rather snuggly with Fraser—you’re quite wrong, darlin’s. Conjure up something far greasier; then you’ll be close.

According to our most inside Fraser source, the Mummy man hauled out his wallet recently for, among other things:

•Seven trips to Wendy’s in one day

•Six boxes of Ho Ho’s from Wal-Mart

•$120 bucks worth of cold yumminess at Ben & Jerry’s

Well, gosh. At least now we know what the hell’s wrong with Brendan’s physical appearance these days, as anybody with a decent set of eyes—not to mention memory for when Bren’s tits were the hardest, most de-lish thing about George of the Jungle, save Holland Taylor’s wit—is cognizant of the fact that Fraser looks weirder than Meg Ryan’s current  face. A steady diet of sugar, fried square-cut meat and corn syrup sure would explain a lot. Only prob being Bren’s press rep says none of it is true, at least, not exactly:

“[Brendan] doesn't recall having Wendy’s recently,” replied B.F.’s tough rep gal. “Maybe with one of his children at some point? [He’s] not a consistent patron.”

The sweet-as-fast-food-pie repper went on to edify us that her client hasn't had a Ho (the edible kind, and otherwise, one assumes) since he was a kid and that Brendan has not enjoyed ice cream “in quite a while.”

Hmmm. Perhaps, our Brendan insider observed these purchases (she did not actually witness Brendan swallowing the goods, this must be stated, I feel, here in the Court of Calories) on behalf of Fraser’s three kids? One wonders. Just so easy to assume, what with Daddy F’s new figure. Maybe he rifled some of the not exactly healthy fare for himself?

I mean, we’re absolutely reduced to thinking such stupid things when it’s virtually impossible to enjoy B.F.’s fab acting chops (Gods and Monsters, anybody?), even in something light like Journey to the Center of the Earth, thanks to Ben-babe’s bod softly hovering somewhere beneath billowing singlets and gauzy fabrics that belong in SoBe, circa 1990.

About-Time P.S.: Anybody who thinks Brendan, one of the nicest dudes in town, doesn’t deserve such an eagle-eyed examination of his bod is naive. Women have been enduring far more heinous dissections of their bodies for years. Way past time to even things up.