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Elizabeth Taylor

Michael Tullberg/Getty Images

This is a tough one about a very tough broad: Elizabeth Taylor. Hate to say it, but, like, everybody's aware that Taylor-Hilton-Wilding-Todd-Fisher-Burton-Burton-Fortensky's thisclose to checking outta the planet for good.

Elizabeth knows it, we know it, the tabloids know it—this is no secret. The only surprise is the fact that that this near-death send-off crap has been going on with the bejeweled babe for friggin' years. Eons! She's the legend that just won't quit.

But alas, the Taylor household is prepared for just such a sad occasion, and in such a Hollywood fashion:

"We are not supposed to call 911," said an employee of Taylor's (she has many, trust me on this), should anything physically nasty occur to Ms. T. Instead, Taylor's publicist, among other helpers, physicians and doers in the Bel-Air broad's household, are to be consulted first—and only. No hospitals or emergency workers, under any circumstances, snip my E.T. insiders, are to be rung up.

However, Taylor's publicist insists he is not on the list of folks to be called in lieu of 911.

"She has a lot of people at home with her, looking after her," replied the repper, who said he had no knowledge of 911 being made verboten at Elizabeth's deluxe ranch job, just down the way from that other teetering Tinsletown terror, Nancy Reagan. "A lot of stuff written about her is untrue." Uh, yeah, but this little chapter ain't, I assure you.

Also gotta say, Taylor, who was supposedly in the hospital for observation after a case of pneumonia, is not only wearing her omnipresent jewels, but she just found another home for one of her Maltese dogs "because it wasn't paying enough attention to her," sassed the Taylor insider. Sounds like Taylor's better than ever, really, though I'm told she's actually not. At all.

Big kiss from me and Margo, you old battle-bitch! Hang in there!