Fightin' Words!

What really went down during the much reported Grey's Anatomy dustup between Isaiah Washington and Patrick Dempsey...and who was the real victim? Plus, is Tori Spelling hittin' the bargain bin lately? Get the skinny on these sitches and more—like Janet Jackson's batty bathroom behavior!

Oh, you heard it all last week, I'm sure. That little boy-fracas (reported by, among others, the exquisitely coiffed Kristin Veitch) that supposedly went down between humpy Isaiah Washington and even humpier Patrick Dempsey on the Grey's Anatomy set here in Hell-Ay. Something about Mr. W.—who plays scalpel stud and perfecto impregnator on the hospital show—getting all hot 'n' bothered by Pat-doll's attempts to calm Isaiah's chastising of folks who were late for filming. Silly, really.

Or not: Get a load of what sources from the Hollywood-based medical soap tell me.

First, though, let's recap. It's been established by K.V., as well as the Daily News, that a to-do went down among Washington, Dempsey and another costar who plays a darling little shy thing. Washington and Dempsey quarreled, it's been reported, and Mr. Shy was involved because of something naughty Washington said about him. And then a fight supposedly broke out between Dempsey and Washington, even though reps for the actors denied this fact, simply saying in the process that "differences" were aired and that now everybody had happily "moved on." Oh, really?

'Cause what my newly installed Desk Doctor tells me is that when Dempsey tried to calm Isaiah, who was being impatient with other castmembers, Washington spewed—of the verbal variety, not the saliva kind.

The grotesque utterings were so beyond, I rang up Isaiah's reppers right away. I left word. 

Ring! Ring! Next thing I knew, my damn lawyer was on the phone. Yeah, mine! Turns out he partners with Isaiah's attorney (irony, thy name is H-town hell-raising). So, my $500-an-hour dude told me Isaiah's $500-an-hour dude said to be sure I got the story right, like I'm actually gonna eff around with such heinous words, but what-ev. I just said to my attorney, "All I want is the truth, so what is it?" 

I was told I'd be hearing it in seconds.

I did. "Not true," barked official reppers for both Washington and the show's corporate chief, Touchstone Television. However, these reps weren't at the scene of the supposed (verbal) crime. My source was.

So, I dug further and rang up Mr. Shy's representatives, who are at this very moment checking with their client to see if he cares to make a statement.

Oh, and of course, while this column was being put to bed, the National Enquirer made mention of Isaiah's rumored potty mouth, too. Makes total sense, as the potty's where I keep my NE, don't you? More later, stay tuned, my smelly babycakes. 

Oh, heavens. I mean, really. You think the above baddies know how to have a ruckus? They're friggin' amateurs compared to the chica I'm getting ready to gab about.

Has Tori Spelling really fallen on tough times as she claims? I doubt it. Nonetheless, the onetime superrich (and now disinherited, as she contends) gal probably surprised a few fashionistas when she announced "I'm wearing Kohl's" at a recent fashion event held at the Santa Monica Pier. Gosh, is newly preggers Tore-hon pinchin' pennies with her own wardrobe so she can keep up with the Spears-Federlines and afford a crib from Petit Trésor for her new tyke?                       

Nah, no worries: Said threads were actually completely cute and being worn at the Kohl's Transformation Nation Fall Fashion Show. Tori's Kohl's Diane von Furstenberg-inspired wrap dress was a hit with some pretty crusty style cops.

The divine Virginia Madsen was a walking advertisement for her Latina friend Daisy Fuentes' collection. Same event. Commenting on the whole skinny craze, Virginia boasted, "Daisy's clothes make you feel beautiful…and, ya know, her clothes aren't made for skinny people. They aren't made for a little stickling; they're made for real women!" Right on, Virginia, take those friggin' twigs down, one by one!

Al Gore with wife-unit Tipper, tryin' to get a table at the impossibly packed Cheesecake Factory. The Mall at Green Hills in Nashville. Al 'n' Tip had just finished shoppin' at Sharper Image and were hopin' to grab a bite at said spot. Evidently, being the former VP ain't enough pull to get you a table at the big, busy Cheese. When the harried hostess said it'd be 25 or 30 minutes, they promptly split. (Can't say I blame 'em!) The couple was all dolled up, possibly for a special occasion, in spiffy dress coats and shiny shoes. Al is "grayer than expected," reported Desk Cheese, and Tipper looked a bit put off by the whole sitch. Way less calm and collected was…

Janice Dickinson, lookin' a hot mess as she left the Bev Hills 'Bucks. J.D. was wearing a vest à la Britney and slim pants that appeared to be Levi's. How very plebeian and pedestrian for the super-self-proclaimed "first supermodel," no? "She was mumbling angrily and continued to talk to herself as she crossed the street…she was almost hit by a car!" said my sip spy. Watch yourself, girlfriend! Far more in control was…

Jamie-Lynn Sigler, eschewing the alcohol during dinner. Social in South Beach. Jamie was joined by boy-f Scott Sartiano (who she shacked up with during her stay at the Delano Hotel), Richie Akiva, Bridget Moynahan and the luscious Tom Brady. While the others sucked down vodka tonics with aplomb, Jamie-babe stuck to sippin' plain ol' Pepsi the whole night. I'm also told the pretty party left a "very nice tip" for their servers.