Family Panning

The clan Spears is having yet more randy ricocheting, and this time it ain't Britney, shocker! What the hell did mama Lynne put in their milk as little kiddies, we wonder? Plus, Lindsay, Samantha...the whole wowin' gang's back in awesome action!

Oh, right, did anybody listen when we uppity types here at AT were crucifying Lynne Spears back when she was just screwing up Brit-Brit’s life? You know, by never letting her have a childhood, essentially, commercializing her oversexualized, underage ass beyond belief, that sorta thing? No! But whatev. My personal fave was back when B.S. was posing for a skintight silver lamé job—back before she became the 24/7 cracker job she is currently—writhing with come-hither do-me-ness for the photographers, all the while Lynne S cooed, “And what a good example she sets for young women!” (This grotesque event happened in front of an old friend of mine, so trust, it really did go down.)

Perhaps Lynne was referring to her now-preggers 16-year-old, Jamie Lynn? Is that who Mama Spears felt was being regally guided by her oozing-with-oomph eldest offspring back then? Who the ef knows. What I do know is that some of J.L.’s colleagues are cryin’ to moi that the pretty Zooey 101 honey has had “scares” before. Oh, do tell!

It was last spring. Certain folks at Nickelodeon, where Zooey’s based, were “terrified” Ms. S was pregnant then, too. When it turned out she wasn’t—claim these Nickelodeon loose-lippers—they wrongly assumed Jamie-love might then start using protection, something the younger Spears sis apparently equates with announcing things quietly. Well, look, we said it once, we’ll say it again: Lynne Spears, you’re right up there with the Joe Jackson Club. Ya don’t let your kids be kids, this is what happens.

Let’s just hope Jamie Lynn and Britney get help way before they hit totally looned out Michael-ville.

• Brit-babe, apart from scrambling for her very life, has been spending more and more QT with a pap named Adnan Ghalib—talk about sleeping with the enemy. Why not hang out with one of the peeps who makes lots of money snapping you as you continue to spiral out of control? What’s next, Brit dating the drive-thru guy at Carl’s Jr.? Jeez. Actually might find more maternal guidance there, no joke.

• In not so surprising news, Lindsay Lohan officially fell off the wagon when video turned up of her chugging champagne straight from the bottle on New Year's Eve. Her rep insists this was a one-time slip-up and Linds called her sponsor right after imbibing. Hey, Linds, at least this gives you an excuse for why you hooked up with that hairy Italian dude after being snapped straddling him at a club. Champagne goggles, anyone? We seriously hope you wouldn’t get down with that skeezy dude completely sober. He makes Riley Giles look like a stud, and that’s sayin’ somethin’.

• Still goin’ strong and much easier on the eyes back in the States are Hilary Duff and Mike Comrie. The two lovebirds hit Sapa in New Yawk City for a cozy dinner of tuna tempura, steamed fish and mussels. (Nice to hear Hil’s actually eating, as she was getting too skinny there for a while.) The darlin’ duo also downed a bottle of wine and were later joined by an NHL buddy of Mike’s and two other gals for more drinks. The group hung until the restaurant closed and left a big tip for the waiter.

• Is Teen Vogue saying sayonara to The Hills? Word on the sequined street is the fashion mag was looking to distance itself this season from Lauren Conrad and Whitney Port, who toil there in a closet for the cameras. Sounds like it’s true. In a recent interview with The Moment, Whitney hints the mag might be ready to cut ties with them. “I think Amy [Astley, Teen Vogue’s editor in chief) thinks [Lauren and I] are maybe getting too old for the magazine,” she dished. “It’s a teen magazine—I’m 22.” Maybe Lauren’s angling for a job with Brent Bolthouse’s company instead, since the two were recently seen lunching together at the Newsroom Café. Just a thought.

• Samantha Ronson, Lindsay L’s good, wholesome bud, was just spotted shopping at the special Louis Vuitton boutique at the Takashi Murakami exhibit at MOCA's Geffen Contemporary in downtown Hell-Ay. She was wearing her usual uniform—really skinny jeans, a tee, beat-up leather jacket, Converse low-tops that had been scribbled all over and that black fedora—and looked exactly like she does in pap pics...just kinda weird and androgynous. But wholesome and totally substance free! Always! Such a love-muffin for rosy cheeks, that one! Oh, S was with a Latin guy friend who looked pretty much like she did. And she was buying a limited-edition Murakami LV bag, which she quietly agonized over for a long time. What exquisite pain, eh?