Honorary Nominee: Aretha Franklin to Beyoncé, who got riled up 'cause Bey called Tina Turner “the queen” at the Grammys, even though the title of Queen of Soul usually goes to 'Retha. I’d tell her to get off her high horse, but she’d need at least five people helping her down.
Best Slacker: Mary-Kate Olsen, for not taking responsibility for her questionable actions in the Heath hysteria.
Honorary Nominee: Bill Clinton, for letting his woman, Hillary Rodham, take the fall for his lying, whoring fat ass.
Best Threesome: Tilda Swinton and her many lovahs of all ages.
Honorary Nominee: Randy, Paula and Simon. The only thing Cowell’s big mouth is good for.
Best Mother: Britney Spears, for keeping Sean Preston and Jayden James out of harm’s way—by handing 'em over to K-Fed. Smartest (and safest) thing she’ll ever do for her kids, no merde.
Honorary Nominee: Denise Richards, who’s running her own personal Kid Nation, finagling her kids to costar in a reality show. Hey, it could be The Osbournes. Then again...
Best Rebel: Barack Obama, because what’s more rebellious than a black man running for the highest office in a country full of backward-minded white racist folk?
Honorary Nominee: Amy Winehouse, just because we love her. And her beehive. And her unapologetic fearlessness. Just don’t lose any of it, dear.
Best Heartbreaker: Oprah Winfrey. Poor Stedman. Whose heart are you concentrating on breaking into a million little pieces next, my media goddess of love? Besides Hillary’s, that is.
Honorary Nominee: George Clooney. A get-out-of-tabloid-jail-free card should come with every chick unlucky enough to hook up with this joker.
Holly Madison, sans Hef, shopping at the Beverly Center’s Victoria’s Secret. H.M., which could also stand for high maintenance, kept it low-key, looking for lingerie in couture casual wear and a baseball cap. Deffo a big change in demeanor, says our Vicky’s source, since the last time the Playboy babe came in with co-Hugh g-f Bridget, they were made up and on display like divas. Holl-hon was a sweetheart to the Secret staff, and bought a sexy 34D demi push-up bra for a measly 40 bucks—tho' does she really need her girls to be even more prevalent? And ain’t H.M.'s sugar-gramps giving her enough moolah to afford a more pricey push-up? Partaking in less uppy, more downy, activities was...
Adrian Grenier, honoring our nation’s leaders from George W to George W. (weird how that worked out, huh?) imbibing the Monday night away at the Other Room in Venice. Think he had any idea he was frequenting one of Venice’s more popular under-the-radar gay bars? Not like it matters much—A.G. arrived at the upscale lounge with a bevy of buds, spending most of the eve on the comfy couches, eye-locked with a cute hipsterette. The Entourage dreamboat almost never seems to have a prob picking up pretty babes of all types, from the indie-cred set all the way to posh princesses like Paris. Howevs, the usual chick-magnet peaced out of the bar alone at midnight. Somebody said no to Vinnie Chase? Musta been the massive mop hair and strike beard that Ad’s been sporting around town. Guess Gren tired of the too-late pub scene, since the next night the 'Fro’d fella sported his more serious side with a blah white blouse at...