Blur the Slime

Blind Vice Friday has us coated in sexy shenanigans—quite literally. And Eddie Murphy, have your cross-dressing movie-star ways gone to your head and made you all crisscrossed in the romance department? Why the hell the two-sec union, man? Some of your past flames offer explanations. Plus, Britney's bullish, per usual, on brainwashing us!

Well, if this hasn’t been a bitchin’ badass week in the goss world. The dude’s dude, Matthew McConaughey, gets the g-f knocked up (more on that in a sec), but first, we just have to spill a bit on Eddie Murphy, who’s clearly trying to become the Angelina Jolie of his partner-switching set. Divorcing Tracey Edmonds before you’re even really married? What the ef’s that about, E-hon? Is this what Mel B was so pissed about? Thinking you were all cozy and ready to have a kid 'n’ all, and then poof, you dump Mel faster than Brit runs from her kids?

Why such love looniness, Eddie, why? 

“Because he doesn’t want to really be with a woman, that’s why,” sassed a former Murphy camper who’s actually been one of Murphy’s nookie conquests. “Eddie wants to be with Eddie.”

No merde. Makes sense for a guy who finally gets nominated for an Oscar (after an admittedly mucho talented career, Norbit notwithstanding), only to storm out before the show’s done just because a silly little thing happened—like losing. Ouch! Would hurt, too, I suppose, what with Little Miss Sunshine’s sass-bucket Alan Arkin (who’s even older than Eddie!) robbing the gold from E.M., especially after everybody told him his turn in Dreamgirls would nab him the big O. But the point is, what Eddie wants—a new girlfriend, new wife, new kid, new toy, whatev, other than an Academy Award—Eddie gets. And what he doesn’t?

Forget it. “Marriage doesn’t fit for Eddie,” blabbed the très close big-booty looker who’s been a recipient of Murphy’s more lustful advances. Hmmm. How odd. Wasn’t the comic legend married to wife number one, Nicole Mitchell, for more than a decade? 

“Define marriage,” bitched the former Murphy mattress mate. 

Hey, I’m not goin’ there. The point is, Murphy has a thing for lovely, luscious, overly painted ladies, just like Nicole, Mel and Tracey. He’ll find more of them, we’re sure. Hell, he’ll even propose to a few of them in the future, of this we’re certain, too. It just won’t ever last.

Unlike the memory that surfaces every damn time Eddie-babe garners a scandalous notch in his infamous bedpost—remember when Mr. M got pulled over by the LAPD for picking up a tranny prostitute all those years ago? Murphy claimed he was simply being a Good Samaritan, only offering the dude a lift. The hooker was arrested (for an outstanding warrant), while Eddie was warned about offering rides in questionable hoods.

Why, Ed-babe, does this story of booby benevolence come to mind every time we hear more screwy mishigas from you, bro? Just asking.

So, looks like M’s been nude 'n’ bangin’ on something other than his bongo set. 'Course, Matty and his girlfriend, Camila Alves, are expecting their first child together, which is absolutely mind-blowing to us, especially since when has M2 been spending terribly much quality time with someone other than Lance Armstrong or Jake Gyllenhaal? I’m surprised neither of those two are expecting, after all those shirtless bike rides and panting parades in the sunset. 

Maybe Jakey’s been teaching our sexy surfer stud about the joys of domesticity...He himself has been spending an awful lotta time getting all cozy and family oriented—and we don't mean Reese, trust. Anyway, congrats to the blond bro and his bella, although...'Member that scene in 40-Year-Old Virgin when Steve Carell’s loveable loser tries to cover up his past prudeness by describing second base as feeling up a “bag of sand”?

Something definitely similar about M.M.’s strange phrases and off-kilter expressions on his blog (where Matthew announced the blessed event, so very modern of him, just like Spencer) rings way false, like he’s got no inkling on earth what he’s talking about. Catch the awkwardness?

“Yes, my girlfriend Camila and I made a baby together...it's 3 months growin in her womb...” (Boldfaced editorializing completely ours, please forgive the overly dramatic punctuation.) Sounds like No Shirt McConaughblah’s excitement was pieced together by whatever he picked up while eavesdropping on normal mommies-and-daddies-to-be. It’s “We’re pregnant!”—not this stilted silly speak. He may as well have said, “I tickled her uterus with my sweaty powerful love tool, and look what happened!” 

Try not to bong before you blog, Matt.

Rumors are goin’ round and round that Britney’s planning on getting’ hitched and pregged again, and this time the prick purveyor is Adnan, the pap with a heart of gold. If at first you don’t succeed, whether with husbands or children, try, try again! Right? Oh so wrong. Now, are these reports to be believed, or are they as fake as that British accent B’s been chip-cheerioing all week long? Let’s take a look-see:

Fact 1:  Brit was caught perusing the family planning aisle at a Rite Aid, picking up some home-pregnancy tests. Does she want us to know there’s more Spears spawn on the way? Or, more important, does she want Jamie Lynn to know she’s still the queen procreative bee of the fam? Could Britters be toying with all of us? I hesitate to think B.S. even knows how to spell devious, nonetheless be it. But the snaps were taken by Adnan’s photo agency, which definitely points all signs to Britney staging a preg scare as a solid to her pet pap. Ah, l’amour, aisle seven.  

Fact 2:  Brit’s been wearing a new diamond ring on her ring finger. (Maybe she bought this one herself, like with her first engagement? Pap money only goes so far.) She’s also been rocking a lot of white lace frocks, including the very one she donned for her K-Fed wedding reception. To be honest, who gives an ess what material or color clothes Spears is wearing? We’re just glad she’s wearing anything at all.

So, is our darling daring-do Brit-Brit engaged and with child? We doubt even she knows. We’ll find out, along with her, in nine months, when she stops into Starbucks and pops out a tall Americano with extra foam.

Oh, and we hear the intervention—complete with Dr. Phil at the helm, unbelievably so—is still on. These people are truly whacked. 

Now, we have a little announcement of our own: Bet you’ve been wondering where Cristina Gibson’s wandered off to and who this new Becky Bain chick is. Just who does she think she is, with all that friggin’ alliteration? A supervillain? Well, Cristina’s graduated on to her own Party Girl column, where she’ll give you the deets on what she knows from the soiree streets, congrats, babe. Break a flute!

And Becky’s taking over helpin’ yours truly report the nefarious and hilarious round T-town. With a Posh’d-up 'do, Becky’s not a girl who dabbles in the goss biz only from nine to five. Case in point: During her recent vacay to Hawaii, Becky spent the majority of her balmy time keening into her piña colada as she was legitimately worried about Britney’s condition following her hospitalization. Now that’s a girl who cares. Glad someone does. 'Cause that Spears bitch is pushing it, far as this bitch is concerned. Welcome aboard, B2!

Oh, sister, do we have a Blind Vice vamper who likes to act out for you! The bellowing Bravado Boom-Cocks is back, and hornier, more indiscreet, than ever! Warning: Please put on a raincoat before reading this one.

Note to Readers:  We'll resume our busybody snooping and such on Tuesday, outta respect for Martin Luther King Jr.’s fab legend. That holiday and reverence all happens Monday, 'course. So, why don't we take that day to help somebody the way King would have, instead of sitting round on our butts waiting for Britney to help herself, know what I mean? Ain't gonna happen.