So, let’s aim a few digits at ol’ Georgey-Porgey himself! This too-fun-fer e-words begins with the following quote:
“She's staying at the Hay-Adams. I don't know how many people know...but it's probably not many.”
That’s my Desk DeeCee, hard at busybody work, informing me further of what this column has more than hinted at before: that the U.S. Chief of Grief, George W. Bush, has a wife (by the name of Laura, ‘course) who’s so damn put out by the teetotaling Texan’s return to drinking that she had to get outta the White House. Woo-hoo! That be first-class First Lady dish there, my darlin’ goss lovers!
Like most of the rest of Bush’s constituents haven’t?
Kinda weird, though, as Laura-doll reportedly used to smoke fags, ya know. But whatev, guess she got squeaky clean and expects her hub-unit to do likewise (would it mean he’d get us the hell outta Iraq, already?). You go, barely elected girlfriend!
Oh, for the official record, neither the president’s press office nor the president’s wife’s press office would comment. Which I find damn insulting, as I help pay those persnickety peep’s salaries!
Paparazzi P.S.: Hate to blow Laura’s cover ‘n’ all, but look, you stalkers of all things Hollywood—if you want an exclusive snap of L.B., she’s not exactly using the posh inn's front door, ka-peesh?
Which is that rumored fiancée Jenny McCarthy is doing her best to see that Jim and his daughter, Jane Erin Carrey (18), patch things right back up. Too sweet, that Jen-doll. Marry her already, Jimmy!
(Gosh, I'd have preferred to see Teri Hatcher turn up next to the frozen pizzas, but nobody asked moi.)
But what I didn’t ooze from my nasty e-mouth to ya a few columns ago is that it's K.J. who seems to be ‘bout the only one of the wives these days who I can find to not spill chilly when I bring up the name Felicity Huffman. Told ya that broad was the bitchy one to look out for. ("She stabs you with her smile," sniffed one par-tick hairied Desperate doer.)
Ages ago.Hmmm...life imitating art, perhaps? Just so happens Adam recently split with his ridiculously adorable g-f and former O.C. costar Rachel Bilson. So, I figure the boy might have some insight, whether from his onscreen exploits or real-life relationship.
“What’s the best way to get over a breakup?” I asked Adam, who was wearing a three-piece suit-and-tie number.
“Um, sleep with their rooommate,” he deadpanned. “No, I think...oh, that’s a chauvinistic comment,” he stopped himself. “Go ahead, say it,” I urged him, wanting to get a real answer. “No need to censor yourself.”
“That whole thing with Don Imus really freaked me out. I’m just minding my P's and Q's right now, if you don’t mind,“ he cracked, before trying to duck my Q. “I don’t even remember the question anymore.”
Joking the pain away, huh, bro? I gently reminded him of my query.
“I like to drink with friends,” he blurted finally (and boringly). Not sure if he was still kidding or not...kinda think not.
Well, at least he got to imbibe with friends later at the flick’s post-premiere party held at Cabana Club. Seemed like Adam had a ton of female interest from comely chicas, so here’s hoping he finds a new object for his affections soon. And I actually sorta mean that.
“As much as there was an uproar, as much as a lot of people, including myself, went on record saying we were very upset about it,” he said of the infamous Isaiah Washington F-bomb incident, “it doesn’t really compare to the uproar of the last few weeks with Don Imus.
“It just tells me, as much as I, as a nonwhite person, don’t approve of racism in any form and support the firing of Don Imus, it’s clear that in our society racism is somehow more offensive to the general public than homophobia,” Rex ranted. “That’s sad, and we have to change that, and I’m not exactly sure how to do that.”
You and T.R. Knight both, I’m willing to bet.