This much is true.
Now, as I had just run a piece on Borat hitting the Meridian Sports Club, where the B-man swept in days ago with a Hollywood entourage the size of Britney’s detractor list. Mr. B came by for a little yoga posturing (also, apparently for this Borat, coffee-table tome I spilled the hairy beans on last week), remember? So, I followed up with Euphoria:
Yes, Borat requested a dude, not a gal. Did he receive a happy ending? No comment. Did he have the same big-ass team of agents along for the ride? Yes, a half dozen again, just like he had at the Meridian. Well, with that kinda stiff-shirt collection, no wonder there weren't his typical hairy happenings going on.
Oh, also, the pampering place is dying to have B back for their back-waxing services. And this time, they want B to bring a camera crew. I so do not want the same.
Ms. Witherspoon was just vigorously, famously perky blond locks bouncing away, grocery shopping at Whole Foods in Brentwood. Now, I happen to know the broad also loves to hit W.F. in WeHo (where the gays adore her and she them, I swear, that gal has more Debbie Reynolds in her than any woman under 40 should dare have, but whatev), but this time she pinched ripe things closer to home.
And the blond babe was there all alone, I’m mucho sorry to say. But as R.W. seemed to be putting this ‘n’ that together for an intimate little din-din, one can only wonder if she was buying the feel-good fancies fer Jake Gyllenhaal or Ryan Phillippe? Yeah, right. Either one makes equal sense to this overripe fruit.
See, I’m told by campers close to both previously plucked types that this reconciliation stuff you’re no doubt hearing about is strictly for the media express lane (10 People items or less), nothing more.
Donald Rumsfeld, in DeeCee with a Wilmer-esque security guard. The former secretary of defense and Dubya’s best bud was spotted in front of Burberry at 17th and M streets on Monday around 4:30 peeyem. Rummy was apparently in town to testify in the Pat Tillman hearings, and looked “younger and shorter than expected” in the flesh, reported Desk Obviously Intoxicated. D.R. had a healthy tan and his skin looked "way too good for 75,” said our impressed pore witness. Guess getting off of Capitol Hill does a complexion good, huh? Shiny, happy peeps elsewhere included...
Bill Paxton, lunchin’ at Giorgio Baldi in Bev Hills. The Big Love boy was eating with two studio/agent/Biz types and seemed “very friendly and smiling.” Nearby masticators reported Billy looked trim and toned and was low-key in a dark tee, jeans and loafers. Break me off a piece of that! A svelte single in the same city was...
Cash Warren, hangin’ with his boys and not with onetime g-f Jessica Alba. Cash hit the Regent Beverly Wilshire Friday night for B-ball buddies Baron Davis (bro of Brandon) and Paul Pierce’s cocktail party for the L.A. Stars charity. The chic do was held in the eighth-floor penthouse and boasted two bars, a poker table and a Cuban cigar maker. Uh, surely all that fun stuff helped take Cash’s mind off the breakup with his beautiful ex? Yeah, prolly not.
See, Ali has a long-term nookie-hon. We’ve heard her mention him in interviews, only to be shushed by her damn publicist. Mystery Mush was there that night, and the two were clearly very together...kissing, canoodling, etc. But all that ended when the cameras were around. We didn’t see these two lovahs take any pictures together. And then People.com ran a big article with Ali gushing she’s “madly in love” but won’t reveal her beau’s identity. What gives, horny hon? You embarrassed, or somethin’?
All that weirdness aside, Ali didn’t seem fazed by all the T-town train wrecks when asked what she feels might be in store for misbehavin' Hollywood, considering how low the bar is set lately. “I think people have been misbehaving for a long time,” she sassed. “The more debauchery the better!” Yeah! Works for moi! Who needs a silly thing like a liver, right?