She's (almost) always on the list

Bush, Biggs, BBQ and Bad Boys

Mon., May. 14, 2007 4:29 PM PDT by Sydne Summer

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After Fergie’s performance at Lyric Culture, I follow Kim Kardashian and Sophia Bush’s lead and drive over to the Roosevelt for Bartles & Jaymes Poolside BBQ. At first, I was skeptical about attending a nighttime barbecue, but the party is adorable, with county-fair-inspired checkered tablecloths, a huge spread of fruity pies and even a dunking booth, where Haylie Duff is giving some guy a good soaking.

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Samantha Ronson mans the deejay booth adjacent to a large fake cow, where Jason Biggs is using his American Pie skills to win a mock milking competition. It’s, um, udderly hilarious.

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Meanwhile, Carmen Electra stuffs down some fries, then sits shivering in her black leather jacket. The shuddering sexpot should stand near Samaire Armstrong, whose cheery demeanor emits a warm glow. I’ve missed the actress since she left Entourage and The O.C., so I’m psyched when she says she’s almost positive she’s going to star as the daughter of Donald Sutherland in a new show. “We find out soon if the pilot I did called Dirty Sexy Money is getting picked up,” she tells me with a contagious smile. “And it is. I know it is!” I’ll have to check with my pal Kristin Veitch on Tuesday to see if ABC in fact greenlights the show.

If they do, it'll be a total change of direction for the sweet actress. “I play an aspiring thespian, but she’s really awful,” Samaire says. “Her catchphrase is: ‘You’re poor.’ She wears chinchilla and other fur and really uptown fancy clothes." PETA’s going to have a field day with this one.

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On the couches next to Samaire, James Van Der Beek sits beside his wife, Heather McComb, and chats with another former O.C.-er, Adam Brody. Okay, this is weird: First, I never knew Dawson had gotten married, and second, the boy next door has grown a grizzly beard—and there’s a piece of food stuck in it. Gross!

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My attention is diverted to a dizzying Rumer Willis, who prances from table to table, finally sitting down to talk with Elisha Cuthbert and hunk of the night Scott Speedman. Rumer’s got good taste in men, just like her mama.

I spot record producer J.R. Rotem and ask him about Britney Spears’ comeback, since he produced some of her albums. Apparently, the randy dude has more on his mind than promoting the Britster. “It’s going to be awesome," he says tersely, before quickly segueing into sexual innuendos. Since we’re at a barbecue, we get to chatting about our favorite summer activities. He tells me his is the “rusty trombone.” Dude, you didn't specify "getting" or "giving." Moving right along….

At midnight, the party starts to die down, and everyone heads upstairs to Teddy’s. Cisco Adler slides right past the velvet rope, but it looks like it's not happening for me tonight. A bouncer discloses that Jimmy Kimmel, Sarah Silverman and even Britney Spears are inside, so unless you’re a celebrity, it’s best to head back to the Tropicana Bar. I briefly ponder if J.R. can help me pull some strings, but not wanting to play in that band, I decide it’s best just to call it a night.