First off, when I rang up Washington's power pooftah rep, Howard Bragman, I asked if I could speak directly with Isaiah again and avoid all this back-and-forth nonsense in the press.
"He'd sooner pull his eyeballs out with pliers," snarled Bragman. "You're not one of his favorite people."
Ouch! Blame the friggin' messenger, already! I reminded H.B., who's a fellow fagola, that it was Isaiah who started all this, not moi. No response. So, I went straight to the facts, always a good follow-up to chitchat gone awry:
"I'm not doing clarification," Howard offered. "I wasn't there."
Well, I was! It's outrageous for Isaiah, at this late date, to begin peddling the whole sordid biz as some sort of problem created by T.R., who, according to ear-witnesses I've spoken with, was the first victim of Isaiah's antigay mouth on the Grey's set. And now, Isaiah's saying T.R. stared it all? How's that?
"I'm letting the Chronicle speak for itself," Bragman responded. For the record, in the Chronicle, Washington says he did originally utter an antigay slur, but that it wasn't directed at Knight, and that Knight started claiming it was. When I pressed Bragman who the hell Washington was aiming for, and why, H.B. wouldn't budge. That's because it's all nonsense, I daresay.
I then asked the repper how he felt working for a man I consider homophobic to the highest degree.
"Well, I don't need the money," he quipped, instantly. "And I don't think [Isaiah]'s homophobic."
Yeah, right. Stay tuned, everybody (I'm sorry to say).
6. Head to Magic Mountain: Booze definitely wouldn't mix with all those ups and downs, thus making for some nice clean fun.
Special Bonus Feature: "The gays" love theme parks, and you know how Linds lives fer the fruits! Everybody comes out a winner!
5. Enter the Malibu Grand Prix: Since Ms. El enjoys speeding around in her near-lethal German wheel collection so much, this is a legal, friendly way for her to enjoy same.
Special Bonus Feature: No innocent busboys or nefarious paps blocking the raceway!
Special Bonus Feature: Everybody knows Lindsay would sell her, uh, publicist, to get back into any kind of Oscar-worthy project, and Jen seems to know the secret, right? I mean, did political amigas or her work in The Break-Up get Ms. A. noticed by the snitty Academy? L. should take copious notes.
3. If Jen Doesn't Call Back, Linds Should Ring Up Meryl Streep: Her old Robert Altman costar is also, incidentally, Lohan told moi, the woman she'd most like to sleep with, were she a lesbian (never quite understood that one). Regardless, Streep's not quite as much a trend-a-zoid as Jenny A.—no designer water deals, natch—so I'm sure the Oscar-winning gal would skip flicks and lattes. Instead, she'd get straight to her trademark direct self and tell L.L. just what the ef she's supposed to do so she can go back to making A-list bombs like Prairie Home Companion.
Special Bonus Feature: Cool tunes!
1. Get the Hell Outta Hollywood: Darling, your pals don't exactly want what's best for you (see item no. 2). I know this for a fact—so, too, do a lot of other folks. The men you're dating, the hangers-on in your crowd, they remind me of those things that eat my plants until there's no green left to eat. Lose 'em! Go stay with Jane Fonda in Atlanta. She's dying to help you out.
Special Bonus Feature: Best boob-, hair- and reputation-rebuilding tips in the biz.
Okay, sugar muffins, the only reason this one's in the Vice section is because until quite recently, Toothy Tile was dating his superpopular, superannoyingly perfect girlfriend. Not boyfriend. Which, if you ask this old gossip whore, is the classification Tile would prefer his significant others be filed under in the very near future.
Mere days ago, while everyone was hooting and complaining about this gown and that host from the Oscars, Tile was right out in the open holding hands with his man in a West Hollywood restaurant—which shall remain nameless...because I love going there and they probably won't serve me anymore if I start outing their customers, ca-friggin'-peesh?
Uh, sure, I'll ID Toothy right way. I'll get straight (as it were) on that one, just so everybody can finally find out who H'wood's most reluctant, closeted rising star happens to be.
Meanwhile, ol' Tooth has two new (sorta) same-sex competitors. One's old, the other's quite young. Ironically, the former's career is far hotter, as we cyber-speak. And, no, I don't mean John Travolta.
Stay right homo here for the secretive gay boys who are beginning to push the, uh, sometimes-purchased envelope much further than Toothy ever dreamed!