Oh, heaven's, who's bashing Britney this time? Yikes, it's almost as predictable as yet another T-town broad swooning lasciviously for Angelina Jolie—can't you lesbian-fantasizing babes come up with somebody new, already? Plus, Tom Cruise can't...well, you'll just have to read to find it, sorry!
We went to Spike TV’s Guy’s Choice Awards, 'cause there just aren’t enough useless awards shows out there. Do we sound jaded? Hell, no! In an age when sober celebs like Tatum O. are saying they relapsed because they lost their doggies, perish the thought. Now, we love gettin' out in the fresh air, what little there is of it in Hell-Ay. Over at the Sony lot, stars of all sorts walked the gross, mustard yellow carpet. That's Spike TV’s color, but still, it made it look like someone'd spewed all over it. No one seemed to mind, since sitting atop the carpet with such a hideous hue was an open bar. We’re surprised it didn't have a pool table and a dartboard as well.
We talked to the emeritus guy's guy of the night: Hugh Hefner. H2 wore a tux, which is not only surprising for such a low-key event as this, but we’re used to seeing the original Playboy only out and about in some high-class silk pajamas and slippers. Is this change in clothes signaling an end to the beloved bedroom fixture’s lifestyle? “I would like to be doing this forever. So far, so good!”
Hugh-hon’s the man of the evening, but who are the guys he admires? “The guys I admire are long gone. You do that when you’re very young.” What about all the men who subscribe to his magazine? “Then I admire you! You have good taste.” Well, Playboy's not exactly our taste here at the A.T., in case ya couldn’t figure that one out, but we won’t burst his bubble.
There weren’t just the dudes at Guy’s Choice—naturally, men would choose to fill their awards show with a bevy of lovely and leggy ladies. Holly Madison, one third of Hugh’s personal version of Big Love, chatted us up. H.M. sported a sexy black dress and a ton of makeup, making her look like a sluttier version of Gwen Stefani, fer sure. Hollz and the gang were gearin’ up to look for the next big Playmate for the 51st anniversary. What kind of lady makes the best pinup, we wondered? “Fresh face, nice body, good personality, and hopefully I’ll find all that and more.”
Pardon us, but does a personality really count in this career path? “You just wanna make sure she’s someone who won’t have a psycho Britney Spears-type meltdown and make everyone look ridiculous.” So much for Brit posing nude anytime soon...in a magazine, at least.
We also gabbed up It girl of the mo’, Katy Perry, who's at numero uno on iTunes with her single, “I Kissed a Girl.” K.P. was friggin’ gorgeous in a shiny, blood red mermaid cocktail dress, complete cleavage on display for all the dudes’ wandering eyes. The precious Perry’s album, One of the Boys, will be released later in June, and the bodacious babe contested, “I am one of the boys, but I’m not one of the boys...I’m a tomboy who keeps her red lipstick intact.” Complex, we like it.
So what’s the deal with lesbians being so en vogue in the media as of late? “It’s not 100 percent usual, and I think there is a fascination with women in general because we are the more beautiful creature—besides some of the gay guys out there. But we’re delicate and we smell like flowers. If Angelina Jolie said ‘Let's make out,’ I would have to make out. I’m sorry...I love my men, but there’s always that one.”
And if Angie’s not around 'cause she’s too busy not giving birth at her villa in France, you can always go for the poor man’s Jolie: the giant-lipped, tattooed, raven-haired Megan Fox, who picked up Hottest Girl on the Planet at the awards show. “I’m going to propose!” exclaimed Kate-babe when she realized the foxy Meg was there. Gal’s not even a real lesbian and she’s more forthcoming than Lindsay Lohan's been about that engagement-lookin’ ring on her finger.
We caught Jeremy Piven in the green room just as he was coming back from the stage to give his props to Hugh Hefner. A random guy came up to the Entourage actor and we couldn’t help but overhear the man mix-up:
“Hey, Jeremy Piven! I still use that line you say all the time!”
Piv-babe looked puzzled. “What line?”
“You know: money! Money! You’re so money, baby, you don’t know it!”
Jer didn’t look pleased. “That wasn’t me. That was Vince Vaughn.” Looks like somebody needs to take in another screening of Swingers, stat. Don’t be too upset, J.P., at least he mistook you for the lean ‘n' lanky Vincey and not the paunchier pal he’s morphed into in the last few years.
“I’ve never seen such a big wad of hundred-dollar bills.”
—Ohio fam members who, on a rare occasion, play golf with the most famous Ohioan (by marriage) ever, Tom Cruise
One needs green to play on the green? Well, yes, certainly for country clubs, such as the ones T.C. has access to in Telluride and Toledo. But that’s not exactly what we’re talking about—membership dues, that is. See, according to some wholesome Holmes types, when they’ve played with their mucho well-known relative, Katie’s hubby, Mr. C likes to “haul out” lots of bucks at the pro shop, buying this, buying that, for both himself, as well as Katie’s fam members.
Too sweet! What’s a Bev Hills mansion owner and party thrower to do anyway but share the wealth with the clan? Isn’t that how it should be? Absolument! But uh, how’s T’s game, we wonder?
“Awful,” barked Desk Fore, which has played with and observed Tommy-babes up close and personal when he’s doing his very best to get it in the hole. “He tried teeing off,” revealed D.F., "and he just missed—wildly. Couldn’t even hit it. And, then, again and again and again. He just couldn’t hit the ball at all.”
Oh my, I like Tom, I really do (though nobody believes me). So I absolutely refuse to make any Lions for Lambs analogies here, sorry.
Oh, tad more from Jack Black’s Kung Fu Panda job, which we mentioned yesterday: Black was mucho happy to share his martial-arts moves with everybody on the carpet, and guy didn’t even break a sweat. Has the jolly jokester ever gotten in a fight in real life? “Not really, I’m not a fighter.” You sure about that, Jackie boy? “Well, a couple of times. Some bullies wanted to bully me, fight me. And then I was forced to use my self-defensive moves. I got some bruises on my hands, but I was able to successfully shield my face. I usually come out on top, but one time I just came out like...“ and J.B. contorted his face, making every guy and gal in the place giggle. Sorry, folks, had to be there to watch this physical comedian do his thing in the flesh.
Jack was wearing a custom-made panda T-shirt and sweatpants, perfecting the “just got out of bed” look a little too perfectly. First we saw Adam Sandler show up to the Zohan premiere looking as if he was attending the World Series (or a bachelor party), and now Jack Black walks the carpet like he’s hiking Runyon Canyon? Just 'cause you’re making people laugh doesn’t mean you get to be lazy in the looks department.
Take a tip from a fellow funnyman Wayne Brady, who walked the carpet with his ultra-adorable daughter. Brady-babe donned a pair of bright blue corduroy jeans and a tight-fitting black T-shirt exposing two clear-cut contestants to the gun show, if ya know what we’re sayin’. Now this stud is how you balance style and humor simultaneously. There’s nothing funny about neglecting fashion, fellas, espesh at your own damn flick’s fete.
Believe it or not, there are a few rockers left who are feted and famed for their music and not for their relationships with socialites. Grammy-winning Green Day embarked on a minitour across a scattering of U.S. cities, posing as the Foxboro Hot Tubs, a '60s retro-punk band. We went all the way out of T-town to catch their insane and intimate gig at Alex’s Bar in Long Beach, a dive bar with a day-of-the-dead kind of vibe inside—not the giant stadiums G.D.’s used to playing...or places we’re used to frequenting. No valet? We were definitely out of Hell-Ay.
The petite place was packed (maximum occupancy of Alex’s Bar: 178) and two wretched opening acts later, the American Idiot dudes appeared to deafening applause. Lead singer Billie Joe Armstrong took the stage by literally crowd surfing atop a surfboard, decked out in full '60s garb. BJA was playing guitar and prettying himself up with guy-liner when Pete Wentz was still in braces; we were def in the presence of a real punk legend, as well as a pro. Billie J downed beer after beer, worked the massive amount of moshers and simultaneously sang without breaking a bad note for two energetic (and exhausting) hours. Wish Amy Winehouse coulda been there to take note that you don’t have to be a prude to be a professional—ya just gotta know your limits, lady.
The tunes to their novelty, swinger side project were still the pure hard ‘n’ heavy punk-pop Green Day excels at, except no Bush bashing this time around. Think their next album will take it easy on Obama? Too bad go-greeners like Al Gore or Leo DiCaprio weren’t in the house head-bashin’ with everyone else...They woulda loved this environmentally conscious band’s act. Bet you’ll never see too-cool-for-school Bono perform, let alone step foot in, a dive bar.