Something to Slink About

Which reality-TV star's a hot, horny mess at home? Find out in this week's Blind Vice! Plus, yet another Hilton hotbed conundrum, an American Idol potentially stinky-poo sitch and Kanye West and Patrick Dempsey are raisin' themselves some manly eyebrows, I'm tellin' ya!

Whole lotta enigmas popped up in celebville this past week, and we can’t tell what’s more mysterious: Nicky Hilton's weird weight loss or David Cook’s suspiciously disappearing music. We might not discover the answer to either, unfortunately.

First up, it might be hard to believe, but we’ve got eyes and hearts, so we’re genuinely worried about the younger Hilton’s feeble frame, as she scurries from one stupid fashion show to the next. Nic’s never been chubby, ‘course, but she's sure as hell never slipped into such skinny territory as she's in now. We’re getting flashbacks to Nicole Richie running on the beach in an unintentionally oversize minibikini—you know the horrific image. Hil-babe’s dating David Katzenberg, the same dude who got hot 'n' heavy with Mary-Kate Olson, another stick-thin half of a celeb sister set. Is D.K.’s love so fulfilling a girl can curb her appetite for it? Or is N.H. just stressed out after a lifetime of being compared to Par-poo and her endless exploits? Either way, someone sandwich that girl immediately, and don’t hold the mayo...She needs the calories. Is mama Kathy drilling social-climbing teachings into her daughter’s dubious skull (just as Kath’s mom did to her, trust)? Could it be having such a mind-numbing effect that Nic’s rebelling by cutting the calories? Or is she just so sick of Paris having it all she's demanding that somebody else notice, whatever the cost?

Back on Idol crookedness, Cook, the less Disney of the Davids on the ratings-diminished show, released an independent album called Analog Heart in 2006, and up until Tuesday, it was available to download on Amazon. In fact, it freakin’ beat pop-queen Mariah Carey in digital sales, and the only person you don’t wanna piss off other than a diva is a media conglomerate. Looks like somebody doesn’t need a dang reality show to propel their career. And if there’s money to be made, you'd better believe Fox wants its claws on the prize...Cooksie included. You think it’s a coinky-dink D.C.’s tunes went kaput right when he's starting to look more and more like a top two sure thing? Or are Idol producers so focused on securing David 2, the Archuleta edition, into the top spot that they’re making sure his competition doesn't steal some more fans? We put in some Q’s to the Idol peeps. No word back—they’re just unbelievably busy, right? Or is this mystery something they can’t spin in their favor? This whole hubbub is eerily reminiscent of the Jason Beghe anti-Scientology vid suddenly being snagged from YouTube. Now there’s a T-town smackdown: Who has more power in H'wood, Rupert Murdoch or L. Ron Hubbard? Let’s hope those two never join forces, or we’re all doomed.

Oh, yuck. There’s always some conspiracy revolving around American Idol: Paula reportedly gettin’ kooky with meds and contestants, sexy gay-club strippers gettin’ booted off, borrowed song choices and such. But this time we seriously smell something, and it ain’t our fairly expensive perfume. And as long as we’re on obviously gay trappings, what’s up with Jim Carrey hitting the homo territory? Read on.

Jenny McCarthy's main man, Ewan McGregor and Rodrigo Santoro sure got down for a dude’s night out in Miami, checking out a Martini Tuesday party at queer lounge Halo. The three amigos are in Ef-Hell-Ay filming I Love You Phillip Morris, about a prisoner who falls in love with his cell mate—this is the state of the romantic comedy, folks, so much for Pretty Woman 2. Jimmy wore jeans and a blue, checkered shirt and was sporting some shorter hair than usual. He arrived with R.S. (in a tee, dark jeans and bright white kicks to boot) and the two celebs set up shop in a corner booth, ordering a bottle of champs that wasn’t popped until E.M. showed up, an hour later. Ewy looked très European in a light black and white sweater, absolutely stunning, cancer scare be damned. All deadly diseases need to stay the ef away from Ewan’s precious face! The party grew to eight, most made up of crew members, and sadly, not us.

But look, let’s get something über-straight, as it were: If Carey & Co. really do want to do the “gay thing,” soaking up local nonhetero color, all, supposedly, for the good of the project they’re doing (yeah, right), what we want to know is, why the hell they didn’t just haul ass over to Jen Aniston’s Floridian palatial digs? ‘Course, she’s in town filming Marley & Me, and all the world knows she’s the biggest fag hag ‘round. So, babes, it’s really a no-brainer: Forget gay bars—Jen’s the professor on all things pooftah.

Now get your flirty behinds to Ms. A., pronto! (And stop torturing the gays so, they believe you when you twinkle your eyes like that, fellas!)

Lindsay L. and Nicole R. were not the only royal types at Kanye’s show this week. Jonah Hill got some serious street cred at West’s Glow in the Dark Tour at the Nokia Theatre on a Tuesday night in downtown Hell-Ay. The Superbad star donned his typical duds of plaid pants, a blue jacket and a porkpie hat, not to mention his extremely identifiable scruff 'n' chubs (which we mean in the most endearing way portliness can possibly be). J.Hill was awaiting the superfab show with some friends in the orchestra section when a group of drunk gals spotted him and screamed, “McLovin!” Close, sweeties, but wrong character. Soon everyone in the surrounding area got sight of the rotund actor, and he quickly drew a crowd of star-effers snapping cell-phone pics and demanding he say every quotable catchphrase from all his funny flicks. Who knew J.H. and K-Dub shared the same sorts of followers?

Loved Jeanne Wolf’s Parade piece about Patrick Dempsey having “pec envy” over Grey’s Eric Dane. Patrick went to great lengths to tell J.W. how he doesn’t want to be ripped for TV or anything like that. Is that so? Dude’s spent many a sweaty sesh right next to my not entirely ripped ass (don’t go there, folks), preening and pumping away. Dempsey’s as self-obsessed as the rest of us, no more, no less.

Except, maybe for Jake Gyllenhaal. Mr. G used to strut and stretch right next to Dempsey, me and Tobey Maguire, all at the same pumping station. Dempsey outdid us all, particularly the half-butt workout Jakey, no question. P.D. never stops. He be fibbin’ to poor Jeannie!

As far as what that Supreme Court source told us yesterday regarding the gay-marriage decision being considered before the California judges right now, we’re told the entire legal sanctioning (or denying) is resting on one person’s shoulders. Our robe-brushing insider would not tell us the judge's name, but she did admit, “It’s a woman. And it weighs entirely with her.” Added the court hanger-on, “Otherwise, it’s a completely split decision.”

Do the right thing, Missy Judge! Or I’ll call you missy again, and Ellen will sic Portia on you, and that, darlin’, will not be a pretty occurrence.

And please don't fag out on us like Hillary did!

Gross, sorry, but we've finally managed to get lesbians, poop and hot sex all into one Blind Vice. Aren't you impressed? Check out Fanny Fecal-Farmer's dubious domestic activities (but some of 'em sure are delish!) in today's animal-active Vice. Ready to bark, babes?