The How I Met Your Mother Lode

Today the stars let loose on what makes loads of them laugh, and it ain't Britney-babe's sitcom guest-on, that's fer sure. A Friend refuses to throw some kindling on the reunion fire and stir up some Hollywood hype, way to ruin our fun. Plus, Paris Hilton can't appreciate some fine art—surprise, surprise—but we sure can!

So Brit’s whatever, Adnan, blogs ‘bout what Britney will—and will not—be doing while Ms. S herself guzzles red wine with big dark glasses on and ponders her next animated music vid? You have heard, haven’t you? We’re told by musical worker bees buzzing thisclose to Spears that a whole slew of anime mishmashes are being planned—no wonder that bitch is sucking down the sugar-loaded booze. After all, animation wizards are on call to remove all traces of any “comeback”-
ruining poundage. And excuse us, but how the hell is any of this tacky-ass nonsense any diff from when Britney and K-Schmuck, on their wedding night, went clubbing with "pimp" and “ho” plastered on the backs of their windbreakers?

Folks are expecting B to have some kinda Whitney-esque, class-ay return to popular love? Right. And thank highly rated heavens. B-babe’s back-to-the-boob-tube hypefest only lasted about a week or two, as opposed to endless months had our gal decided she wanted to star in the next Star Trek flick. Most of B.S.’s HIMYM reviews as the slightly bonkers tattoo-removal doc's receptionist have been golf-clap polite: “Hey, everyone! She didn’t vomit on camera or start crying midsentence! Way to go, Brit!”

Sorry, Spearsy, but we aren't exactly known for patting mediocrity on the back and handing it a cookie. Your weave has been worse, fer sure (tho' we can’t say the same for your lack of comic timing), but it still looked unsightly next to your perfectly sitcom groomed costars. And after your total of two minutes onscreen, we were left scratchin’ our craniums wondering why ya took this tiny part to begin with? The role seemed destined for a no-name actress trying to get a SAG card rather than for the world’s most famous entity. The real winner of the night, besides CBS and its ridiculously roof crashing ratings, was Sarah Chalke, who stood out with the best scenes. We’re certain this funny femme’s got nothing to worry about once her Scrubs are taken off.

Pro laughers (as opposed to civilian ones like Brit-Brit) of all assortments were in quirky abundance at the Run Fat Boy Run premiere at Hell-Ay’s primo cinematic screening scene, the ArcLight. First thing we noticed at the Sunset Boulevard shindig was star and writer Simon Pegg, the deadpan dude from Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz, who plays the titular fat boy. But this funny fella clearly hasn’t been hogging the crumpets and scones, 'cause he ain’t pudgy in the slightest. What gives? S.P. explains: “I came off the back of Hot Fuzz, and I actually was pretty slim. I had to wear a fat suit...[my character is] kind of fat in his head, in his attitude...he needs to get himself in shape mentally.” That was the same excuse Kirstie Alley gave for Fat Actress...no?

RFBR is about a schlumpy guy who tries to win back his neglected g-f by competing in a marathon—hey, if it worked for Katie Holmes, it can work for anybody. So what’s the most this British import’s ever done to woo a woman? “Got a bunch of flowers I bought off a gypsy.” Must be a U.K. kinda thing. Be happy you’re hilarious, Si-hon. So we wondered, elsewhere at the premiere, what makes people who make people laugh...laugh? Here are our hilarity-laden results:

“At the moment, Flight of the Conchords.” 

—Simon says (which means you better watch this kooky Kiwi show)

“I love pretty much everything Tracy Morgan says on 30 Rock...Alec Baldwin is right up there with him.” 

—Last Comic Standing’s Doug Benson

“Simon.” 

—Friends alum and Fat Boy director David Schwimmer, who must only have eyes for (his) actors

“Farts. Lately, farts. I go through cycles where I don’t find farts funny, but then I do find them funny. It’s a perennial favorite.” 

—Stella’s sketch writer and all-around immature man-child, Michael Ian Black

Apparently, what makes Thandie Newton guffaw on set is pulling pranks on the all-too-gullible cast and crew. “She was wise not to mess with the director,” says Schwimm-babe. “'Cause otherwise I would forget to shoot her close-ups that day.” Could it possibly be this still-doable guy picked up his bitchy ‘tude from sharing screen time with Jennifer Aniston all day long for a decade?

Actually, that diss-reverb woulda been from one Lisa Kudrow, from what I (accurately) hear, never the Coxster. We love our C.C. Glad a few other folks do, too—seen the decent ratings for Dirt lately?

Post-Friends P.S.: “No! We don’t want to mess with perfection. We love the way it ended. We don’t want to jinx it.” So screamed Schwimmer on whether there will ever be a Friends reunion. Guess he didn’t watch the ho-hum last two seasons like everyone else?

Jeremy Sisto and Jesse L. Martin, gettin’ into character while shooting a scene for Law & Order outside the main post office on 33rd Street and Eighth Avenue. InWhySee. The Clueless cutie and the Rent alum (we so know our '90s film and theater, trust) were in full-on “detective” wear, donning jackets, ties and gloves, lookin’ all Mulder and Mulder. The stars were chatting up a local fruit stand merchant, or rather, a background extra. The real New Yawkers walked by without giving the scene a second look. Typical. Elsewhere on the island were...

The Strokes, who strolled into the This Is Burlesque show at cheeky and cheerful Corio eatery on a Friday eve. The Strokers slid into a table by the stage (to get a better look at the ladies, fer sure) and interacted with the emcee throughout the campy show. The five indie fellas sported jeans and rocker tees, natch, foregoing anything harder than vodka 'n' Red Bulls. Funny, you'd think their energy drink du jour would be Rock Star, huh? The band enjoyed the saucy entertainment—who wouldn’t?—and stayed well after the show was over to chill with the cast. Bet none of the performers in this sexy dinner theater were a match for drummer Fabrizio Moretti’s ex Drew Barrymore, but a guy’s gotta eat, no?

In case you like your goss a li'l more visual (and we ain’t talking sex tapes...yet), we highly endorse the illustrating instincts of Circus Hour, run by ex-soap-scriber Candy Kirby and artist 14, who foregoes giving over her given name, prolly wisely, since some of the celebs she sketches don’t have as good a sense of humor as she does, surprise surprise.

Bitchy case in point, l'artiste was reportedly approached by Paris Hilton’s hard-at-work legal team, requesting the gal remove some feisty crabs near P.H.’s crotch in one of her many Par paintings. Fourteen complied, but tells us exclusively, “I never understood how adding them could possibly harm Hilton’s reputation any more than she had already done to herself...The biggest problem I was having was trying to maintain a straight face through all of this.” Us, too. Indeed, once those legal rumblings became news, the drawer 'n' blogger smacked those crabs right back up.

If anything, 14’s more shocked that “Tom Cruise hasn’t come after me. I always draw him wearing ridiculously exaggerated platform shoes and yet still being woefully short. Doesn’t he get all hopped up and litigious over that sort of thing? I suppose it’s just a matter of time.” We think you may be in the clear, 14-hon, as Andrew Morton is Tommy-boy’s personal scapegoat nowadays. And though she’s sketched her fair share of Spears-inspired art, 14 declares all little-girl giddily, “I’d love it if Britney would commission me to paint a giant canvas of her.” Certainly wouldn’t be surprised if nutty B.S. did just that. Go for it, girl!