While Mischa's mommy is gunning for our in-box, we ruminate on the reasons behind Britney's ruinous VMA performance! Plus, 50 Cent cha-chings it big-time, while Marisa Tomei simply zings it!
Hollywood hath no fury like a stage-mother scorned.
On Monday, we mentioned Mischa Barton was back in town, having been spotted in West Hollywood near a doc known for his, uh, unconventional ways with wacky-smelling substances. Nuala Barton, M's mama, contacted me right away, claiming we were incorrect in our celeb sighting, as her daughter hasn’t been in Hell-Ay for months. Failure to run a retraction, she stated, would warrant legal consequences.
Done. We officially retract the sighting, no funny-doc biz for Meesh!
But, uh, has Kathy Hilton suddenly been tutoring Nuala on how best to handle the media? If so, I don’t think Nuala’s listening, as Kathy’s far more deft in her finagling ways (she seduces, never scorns). Nope, Nuala’s straight outta the Dina Lohan hit-‘em-hard school of doing biz.
Indeed, when N.B. received my auto-reply back after her initial email, she reiterated that I’d better respond forthwith if I knew what was good for my “health.”
Oh, goody! Haven’t had such a threat since Carlos Leon, Madonna’s ex, didn’t much like the way I said he’d been strutting through my über-gay gym. It’s all just too much fun for the terrorizing tum!
Actually, I simply responded (immediately) to Ms. B that I’d be happy to run a correction on the item, but what’s with the legal guns? “Don’t be a smartass, Ted,” she snit-shot back, saying she objected to the association Mischa might have with any physician prescribing marijuana.
Not that I think pot smoking’s bad, mind you, I think the damn stuff should be legal. But whatev. I do, regardless—and sincerely—apologize to both Mischa and Mama B. I actually do mean this.
Just don’t understand the heavy-handed hullabaloo. Who do these moms think they are, Britney’s new pissy manager, Jeff Kwatinetz? More on that one in a sec.
First, just want to also put out there that Nuala thinks a conspiracy exists regarding unpleasant things being said ‘bout her daughter (à la the nipple that was said to—but in actuality didn’t, according to N.B.—peek outta Mischa’s designer frock at a NY fashion event).
Uh, Nuala-love, this crap is nothing. Speak to a gal named Lynne Spears if you think your offspring’s being maliciously gabbed ‘bout.
This is getting akin to Kennedy assassination theories, I swear. So, let’s review. Britney blew it (so big-time) at the VMAs, and here are, basically, the top five theories why:
- She was mad as hell she wasn’t allowed to do the magic act she’d rehearsed with Criss Angel. (Source: E! Online)
- The heel was broken on her stiletto, causing the Louisiana babe to stumble. (E! Online)
- She’d heard Sarah Silverman rehearsing and making fun of her and her kids and got upset. (X17)
- Lynne’s firstborn didn’t arrive on time or rehearse much the day before, instead choosing to drink margaritas and order food. (Page Six)
- She was “just plain nervous and embarrassed.” (People.com)
Well, here’s the latest, courtesy of a source I am not at liberty to reveal, on yet one more reason Brit was off her game (by the by, I think a number of dynamics, not to mention some severe mood probs the gal’s suffering from right now, culminated in the pop-hon’s loopy performance):
That comes from a woman who’s tighter with this overpartied set than you can dare imagine (and, no, it’s not actually Britney talking about herself in the third person, which ain’t too far-fetched a notion at this sorry point). Thought you’d heard it all with this babe, right? Well, think again. I swear, so much more and more gab’s bein’ bandied about on this bothered blondie, we’re all gonna be asking "Lindsay who?” in a matter of secs.
And who the hell would the father be? Kevin? Say it ain’t so!
Regarding the semibombshell above, no word back, as yet, from Spears’ latest management team—that being the incredibly divisive office of Mr. Kwatinetz, onetime fiancé of Brittany Murphy and the man largely implicated in the unfortunate pro sitch of the now somewhat tarnished Kelly Clarkson. Remember, J.K.’s the dude who encouraged Clarkson to duke it out with the venerable Clive Davis, as stupidola an idea as wearing a microbikini if you’re anywhere near jiggle weight. Kelly later fired Jeff.
Hey, I know what it’s like to have these jokers. Once had a manager who cussed more than I do (and that be a whole helluva lot). Doesn’t anybody know screamers are so last season? You didn’t get that memo either, Ms. Barton?
Will keep you all posted, natch, on all things Britney.
In fact, here's some more pop-tart poop right now:
Finally found somebody deep within the bowels of the current Britney machine (which, admittedly, could combust at any second), and I was told they're doing their damnest to get Britney "away from the personal" and "completely to the music." For ince, Spears, who's been through some of the priciest personal publicists in the Biz, will no longer have any private publicist whatsoever. Huge mistake. I asked the insider what the ef went wrong with the VMAs then, as that inquiry could easily be construed as a musical question. "Not discussing it," came the superquick snip.
And the pregnancy rumors? I pressed.
"That's because people don't like her weight," the B.S. current camper quipped, "and that's just mean."
Well, even Britney herself must realize that at this very damned point she's gotta lotta meanie amigos hangin' round her still.
50 Cent, throwing down at the Style Villa on Saturday. Vegas, baby. Fiddy was makin' the swag rounds when a worker bee at the Hanes undies booth challenged the rapper to an arm-wrestling contest. Up for grabs? The $62,000, blinged-out Haimov watch he'd just scored. Fiddy won easily and actually took the other's guy watch, which was a whopping $7. Also spotted freeloading was...
2389/Most Wanted/ZUMA Press
Alli Sims (aka Britney's cousin), walking barefoot through Caesars casino, loaded down with bags o’ loot from the same suite. Not wearing shoes in public places must run in this refried fam, or somethin’! Hope the hanger-on enjoyed the freebies, because something tells us she isn't gonna be scoring gratis stuff after Brit's disastrous performance. Hangin' with amigos back East was...
Daniel Radcliffe, dining on ahi tuna and spareribs at Sapa. Harry Potter himself was with nine friends and had just come from a screening of Daniel's new movie, December Boys. Expect to see Danny boy in the Rotten Apple more often: He just announced that he'll be taking it all off for audiences here in America, as his pants-droppin' play, Equus, is Broadway bound. Another dude never afraid to show skin was...
Ricky Martin, opting to spend VMA weekend in South Beach. Ricky was spotted girating with friends at Love Hate in Miami. Skin-to-skin witnesses report the humpy crooner happily signed autographs and posed for a plethora of pics with excited fans. A bartender was overheard saying the Latino looker was the "most approachable celebrity they've had in the bar," which was so not the case when Brit chanteuse Amy Winehouse stopped by after her quickie nuptials a while back. Havin' a boys' night up north were...
Justin Long and Scott Speedman, drinkin', dancing and being dudes at the Motorola Late Night Lounge at the Toronto Film Festival, with Mena Suvari nearby. The pretty hons and their buds took over a private banquet, where they downed miniburgers, minipizzas and "plenty of beers." Brit, what hath you globally wrought? The rowdy group was joking around all night and seen "chest thumping, laughing and hitting each other"...semihunky, bongo-ready horseplay, anyone?
Marisa Tomei, at the hideously attacked age of 42 (which, for a woman in Hollywood, might as well be 102), is not showing any signs o’ timidity. Hear she not only bares all in the upcoming thriller Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead, with Philip Seymour Hoffman and Ethan Hawke, but the Brooklyn babe looks damn effable. Love it! And so glad it’s her nude and not Philip! Hooray!
Steve Granitz/WireImage.com, Jason Moore/ZUMA Press
Barbara Bush, is that you? Oh, that’s right, believe it or not, this coif-shorn chica is none other than Paris Hilton. We kinda dig the new short 'do, but what’s with the grandma-ish way she’s got it styled? It looks like she sat under a hair dryer with hot rollers in for an hour to get that look. Sorry, we’re just grumpy—too much Britney crap to write about these days. Better get used to the bitchiness!