The Awful Truth is here to stay, which is more than we can say about Laura Bush lately. The First Honey and Dubya visit a disaster site, separately, within mere hours of each other, while Dave Navarro dishes on his choice for hottest man and all things Lindsay Lohan! Too loose 'n' licious fer words.
Well, 11 years ago, it happened. I abandoned ship at Premiere magazine and came over to help E! TV, where I had been a contributor on the Paleozoic era’s Gossip Show, let loose E! Online—that’s where my first column here appeared on Aug. 8, 1996. Trust, this was back when Tommy C. still said he loved Nic and online wasn’t at all the thing, can’t tell you how many people told me, “Darling, you simply must not even consider it.” Obviously, I did.
Right about 1,121 columns and a billion Talk Soup hosts (love The Soup now, too, Joel’s ballsy ‘n’ brilliant) later, couldn’t be more in the mood to keep doing what people tell me not to do. But, ya know? It almost didn’t happen at all back then. See, I told the E!-ites no, originally. Then I called back and changed my mind. Have never been happier about a change o’ heart.
Otherwise, I dare say, myriad blogs ‘n’ columns ‘n’ electronic burps would be written in utterly hetero, boring-ass lingo. Why, natch (one of my favest verbal distortions) alone gets lifted more than I used to “date.” Toothy Tile and Lindsay Lohan can’t friggin’ fart or fall out of a car, all disheveled, without getting mentioned in one of my Blind Vices. I was one of the first to call Michael Jackson’s superinside team on covering up for his fondness for little boys—and, that one, I assure you, is one of my all-time proudest moments.
There will be many, many more bests to come. And I’d rather keep the focus on a highly misbehaved future than what came in kooky Christmases past. Look to this missive in the upcoming weeks for further stocking stuffers, Britney's dubious dude collection notwithstanding.
Jean Baptiste Lacroix/WireImage.com
‘Cause the fact that the Prez and his First Gal in Name Only are so not living together—and the far more distressing news that Oprah seems to be an ice babe on par with my chilly mama, Mariah—is only the (new) beginning. Otherwise, then Paris doesn’t have a racist potty mouth.
Oh, on that impossibly impolitic note, let’s revisit the couple that apparently knows how best to keep a marriage together: Separate everything.
As if you needed any more proof that all’s not peachy ‘n’ perf between Dubya and Laura Bush, look no further than their separate trips to Minneapolis last weekend. The First Hon toured the I-35W bridge collapse last Friday morning minus her hubby. Incidentally, Bush toured the scene, all by his lonesome, the very next Saturday.
Come on now, they couldn’t make nice for one friggin’ day, save taxpayers’ money and view the site together? Maybe the devastated area coulda used the support? Why take two trips within secs of each other if something’s not seriously wrong between these two Republican coots? We rang up Laura’s press office and found out the following: The First Lady was already scheduled to visit Minneapolis that Friday for the Helping America’s Youth Conference. Uh, okay.
“That had already been announced and planned for Friday,” L.B.’s cheery spokesperson informed us. So, she worked her visit to the disaster site into her trip that was already planned. This is all well and good, but why not just have George accompany his wife-unit on Friday instead of making a separate stop Saturday?
“You’ll have to ask the president’s office about his schedule,” chirpy spokesperson further chirped, albeit semicurtly. Fair enough. So, we rang up the press office of the Prez himself, where someone took our info and promised they'd call us back. And I’m going to marry my fiancé a virgin.
In celebration of all thangs X-treme, fast and fabulous, H'town types like Kathy Griffin, Dave Navarro and Jaime Pressly hit up babe-and-boobage bible Maxim’s ICU event at Area last Thursday night to kick off the X Games. Since the men’s mag puts out its list of the 100 hottest babes every year, we got to wondering just who would make the cut if Maxim ranked the most doable dudes, instead of dames?
“It would have to be Depp,” Dave Navarro answered faster than he switches mattress partners. “He’s much sexier than your typical Hollywood actor who’s just doing the safe action-adventure blockbuster films. John goes a little left of center, and I think he has a lot more depth, and I think that depth is sexier than beauty.”
Is that why Carm-babe got the heave-ho? No matter...
Gosh, so Depp has depth. That has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? Davey, accompanied by a buxom, blond rendition of ex-wifey Ms. Electra, also talked about all the T-town train wrecks.
“I think it’s time we let it all just lie,” D.N. said, suddenly serious. “We keep talking about Paris and Lindsay and that whole world. They’re like 20 years old, and that’s just, like, growing up to me. When I was 20 years old, thank God there weren’t cameras following me around, because I’d be put in jail.” Before we could bother to wonder ‘bout Davey-poo’s dirty doings, the leather-clad finger-pointer continued:
“You give ‘em an endless supply of money, an endless amount of people who are gonna do stuff for you and you’re trying to have a good time, you’re going to cross some lines every once and a while.” True enough, but how many lines does one have to cross (or put up their nose) before it gets to be too much already?
See, Dave thinks we press peeps are the ones overstepping boundaries. So not interesting. Could tune into the damn Fox network for that nincompoop thought.
Santa Monica Police Department
Now, celebrity goss is indeed a slippery slope, but here in Awful Truth land, we can’t help but wonder if havin’ the media watching your every move might help some of these outta-control starlet types. Someone needs to be keepin’ tabs on Lindsay Lohan, for gawd’s sake, and if it’s all of Middle America instead of your own mother, so be it.