The Awful Truth

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Their friends are cautious. Their reps are mum. Maybe that's because all folks involved know that what Sarah Silverman and Jimmy Kimmel are attempting is unlikely to work out? "They're being very careful," says a mutual bud to both comics, who have made no secret of sniffing around each other in recent days, in hopes of giving it another love try.

And isn't it interesting that the busted-up couple S.S. just likened herself to on The View, Bruce and Demi, are a just-friends twosome, with no nooky whatsoever involved, not exactly the scenario we hear Sarah 'n' Jimmy are currently entertaining. We'd be circumspect too, babes, with break-up/hook-up/break-up-damaged duos such as the following littering H'wood's cupid catastrophes:

Liz and Dick—sex was great, fights and booze and drugs were even greater.

Shanna Moakler and Travis Barker—might be back on now, thanks to an incredibly dire circumstance.

Sienna Miller and Jude Law—completely off, despite numerous attempts at reconciliation.

Pam Anderson and Tommy Lee—will be back on one day, yet again (and again, until something wicked befalls one or either party, to be sure).

Lance Armstrong and Sheryl Crow—she better not take him back, 'cause southern heavens know he'll be asking. Again. Prolly right around the time he decides to run for office.

Dubya and Laura Bush—even though the first lady moved back into the presidential digs after a trial split, the real test will be post-White House. Stay tuned, babes, ain't gonna be pretty.

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Istockphoto.com

Even while stuck in a sling, Daniel Craig looks absolutely debonair. Attending a James Bond tribute to 007 scribe Ian Fleming in Londontown, the blond Bond strutted out in a sleek black suit, some facial scruff and a serious injury to his arm. Don't they have body doubles on set for all that dangerous stuff? Whether Danny was trying to prove his manhood by doing his own stunts or he just slipped on a banana peel, dude still looks completely doable. We'd be more than happy to nurse him back to health.

—Additional sass by Becky Bain

INFdaily.com

"I don't think I'm a sex symbol at all."

So said Gerard Butler at the Rocknrolla premiere in Hell-Ay last night, nixing the notion of his stud status. Lotsa ladies are sure to disagree with him, but hey, his words, not ours.

On the potential fornication front, Mr. B refused to confirm he's doing just that with one Jen Aniston (maybe that's because there's never really anything substantial going on there...just a thought). Yeah, we hardly considered Ger-hon, big tits notwithstanding, all that much of a catch, espesh after eavesdropping on G.B. attempting—and failing—to hit on a H'wood stargazer with some pathetic pickup lines. Maybe he's better when he sticks to being eye candy?

Another denial by Butler? The idea that he ever even romanced Jen to begin with. Dude wants to make it perfectly clear that he never swooned the star. Too bad for Jenny—even with Ger's unfortunate lack of game when it comes to charmin' the gals, guy's still a step up from John Mayer. So is a vibrator. The Rabbit would never talk to TMZ behind your back, that's for sure.

—Additional sass by Taryn Ryder and Becky Bain

Joseph Connolly/Getty Images; Andrew H. Walker/Getty Images

Dear Ted:
I am living and working in the heart of DeeCee (a stone's throw from 1600 Pennsylvania Ave.) and can tell you that all the "Independents" I know are firmly Democratic since Sarah Palin arrived on the scene. And those that were in denial became Democratic after Katie Couric did her business. You need to recruit a new Desk DeeCee...anyone who has ever had a windup doll in DeeCee is realizing that Sarah Palin's crank is fairly short.
—Sarah, D.C.

Dear DeeCee Diss:
I'd much rather believe you, trust. But Desk DeeCee rarely disappoints and is also polling a far more dangerous section than just the Washington types: the heartland.

Dear Ted:
Enough with the bitching about Sarah Palin. You're starting to sound like your hemorrhoids are flaring or something. I just wanna hear about the latest doings of my favorite hell-raiser Angelina...
—Lonewolf

Dear Jolie Jaded:
I'm sure you meant to say Amy Winehouse, darling, not Angelina, right? Angelina's changed! (And I'm blond.)

Dear Ted:
It's official! You are America's new hero! For what? For dissing Angelina Jolie. Never liked her and her man-stealing ways (I got the "man-stealing ways" line from your BFF Jules Asner). When will the people of this country realize what a fake she is? Never bought the whole adopt-a-child scheme of hers. There are a lot of homeless and orphaned children in this country. Why not start here? Question: When do you think she'll dump Brad?
—Taryn

Dear Man-eater:
When another hunky, unavailable partner comes along, that's when. She and Jodie Foster really should get together. For so many reasons.

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Charley Gallay/Getty Images for JLINE Group

"I don't think she cares...It's better if she doesn't even try to show the real her. 'Cause what she's doing right now is working for her."
—Paris' blogging bestie Perez Hilton, on what the public should know about the real Pare-poo. You mean there's more to this thigh-spreading heiress than photo ops and hair extensions? We'd love to see it sometime, would blow our collective minds.

Zuma; Joseph Connoly/Getty Images

Ran into Cybill Shepherd in New York, just saw her at dinner. And as Sarah Palin had, seconds prior, misquoted Madeline Albright so gloriously about women who "don't support other women" going to hell (help, is actually the verb M.A. originally used, and she's made it clear since that she did not mean this statement in any political fashion), I asked Cybill, "as a woman," how she felt about Palin.

"Oh, I'm just crazy about her," she gushed.

"I'm not," I said.

"Yeah, well, I'm not either," Cybill deadpanned, who knew she was so damn talented? Had me going completely. Maybe Martha Behind Bars isn't her best work yet? "I just can't help looking at her, though," Shepherd continued about the Alaskan politician Roger Ebert has so deftly compared to a folksy Coen Brother character out Fargo, "like she's a car wreck on the 405. It's scary!" True.

But not quite as frightening as trying to guilt the female population of this country into voting for her simply because she possesses a vagina. Well, let's see here. I have a penis, as do both John McCain and Barack Obama, so who am I supposed to vote for, according to that demented way of thinking Sarah? One cojone for each candidate?

AP Photo/Dan Steinberg, Ron Galella/Getty Images

Leonardo DiCaprio is pretty much the perfect celebrity: good looks, great talent, dates models and most importantly, is all about the causes. Leo has inspired his younger fans to vote with a star-addled, viral PSA, and now he's onto helping out some nonhumans with the International Fund for Animal Welfare. Dude obviously gets bored just making movies.

Today's the start of the annual Animal Action Week, and this year's objective is "to protect the ocean and marine wildlife from the impact of human activities." Paris should sign up for a crash course pronto. Prof. DiCaprio could sure teach her a few things about animal activism. The way she treats her pooches on land doesn't leave much hope should dolphins ever be up for adoption.

We can totally see it now: sea lions as the new It pet in '09. We'd like to see her try and schlep that around in her purse down Robertson Boulevard. Oh, and can Sharon Stone also get familiar with how to protect animals? 'Cause no leopard would be caught dead wearing such heinous pants.

—Additional sass by Becky Bain

Gaz Shirley, PacificCoastNews.com

Jeez, Sharon Stone's recent fashion frocks are as badly chosen as her political statements, and that's sayin' a lot. Someone needs to tap her on the shoulder and let her know she's no longer 39 years old, 'cause, damn, if S2 ain't still dressing as such. Leopard-print pants—paired with a mismatched, boring blue jacket—is about as cougar-iffic as they come. You're so very subtle in your sexiness, hon.

An all-smiles Shar must have just realized how wrong her wardrobe was for her to be laughing like that. Whatever gets you out of your funk after hearing your custody rights with son Roan are still stuck in their San Fran place.

—Additional sass by Becky Bain

Playbill

Just got back from New Yawk. The husband, Jon Powell, was in a musical, Fancy Boys Follies, with hilarious Jim J. Bullock. Both men were fab, but then, I'm married to one of 'em, so guess that's sorta like Tom Cruise going on and on about how sensational Katie Holmes is in Arthur Miller's All My Sons. Yeah, right.

Well, guess what? She is good. Very good.

It's really stupefying stuff, too, 'cause for the past year or two, it's been looking like Kate's going the way of Mad Money, after hooking up with Cruise, and further from the more formidable material from her career prior, Pieces of April, for instance. Well, she's back. The talented Katie, that is, as a complex and most fetching girlfriend to hunky Patrick Wilson. Dianne Wiest is divine, but that's like a boring statement, really, she's always so genius. No, it was Holmes' role to prove, really, and she did. And those folks teaming outside waiting for her autograph were rabid for her, not Tom. The anti-Scientologist screamers seem to have given up? Damn shame, such added drama!

But look. Think this calamitous, barricade-requiring showdown outside the Schoenfeld on Broadway would have occurred had Holmes not married Cruise? No way. K.H. was smart. She knew exactly what she was doing, just like her predecessor, Nicole Kidman, did. Kidman's a fab talent, to be sure, but would she had ever ended up where she landed had not she not been Tommy's No. 2? Unlikely.

It's all in the moment, and Holmes saw how best to grab it, for sure. Sadly, and ironically, Nic even showed up to show her support (or revenge, perhaps?) by looking so utterly gorgeous it hurt: on the back of the show's Playbill, in an ad for Chanel No. 5.

Half the audience was tittering about this not so subtle stab, intended or not? Doesn't matter. All anyone could talk about was how N.K. doesn't look anything like the ad these days, really. And there was Katie up onstage, looking real, accessible, womanly—she's too thin, to be sure, but she's got the curves down—and damn close to brilliant, too. Score one for the Third Wives' Club, for sure.

Ash Knotek/Snapers/ZUMAPress.com

“The contestability provision only allows the insurance company to contest during the time the insured was living. Since he’s dead, the insurance company’s case is dead, too, and they should pay up.”

—Washington Superior Court Judge and current mediator and arbitrator Charles Burdell Jr., regarding ReliaStar’s slimy attempt to fault on paying the late Heath Ledger’s claim due to the edgy star’s generous drug-taking, about which, of course, I’m hugely guilty of reporting. But then, I’m not an insurance company, am I? Seems they’re trying to do my job and get out of doing theirs.

AP Photo/Shizuo Kambayashi

Shall we call Janet Miss Jackson since we're about to get nasty on J2's case?

Our fave Jackson family member (tho there ain't much to choose from) is now up to six cancelled concerts in just one week's time, but that number will probably climb by tomorrow, right? Babe's suffering from some mysterious illness that her people ain't opening up about, how odd. Or not. Can't be as simple as a sore throat, otherwise they woulda said as such, no? Could it be pregnancy?

Jan's fluctuating figure has been on the heavier end recently—we ain't bashin' her full fig, just observing. It's all of J's jealous ninnies in the Biz who are pulling the curvy cutting comments, not us. But even if she was carrying a li'l Jermaine Dupri, wouldn't her fans forgive her pronto? Gwen Stefani, Jennifer Lopez and Christina Aguilera were able to go on with their own shows despite being pregged up. And we can bet Jack-hon could kick all of their asses, with child or not.

So what the ef's going on, J?

NEILL J. SCHUTZER/RAMEY PHOTO

For any of you who lost sleep over our little item about the rumored split between Nick Lachey and Vanessa Minnillo, then you can breathe easy. For now. Nick and Vee were spotted downing some drinks with Drew Lachey and wife at Whiskey Blue in Hell-Ay last night. Guess Nicky-Poo still has it going on, 'cause at one point they had to close off the cabana room due to the ever-present gawking gals. Think Ness was behind the cover-up? Wouldn't be surprised. Looks like N. 'n' V.'s PR folks are going overboard to show that these two are still hotter than ever. Not totally buying it, but don't totally care, either.

—With additional sass by Taryn Ryder