Katie Holmes, Tom Cruise

AP Photo/Gregorio Borgia

Okay, because I've been bitching so damn much about this overly hyped wedding of TomKat's, Cristina Gibson—my right-hand Awful colleague—and I figured it was high time we delivered a little somethin' we're actually veddy happy about these days. So, wipe off those scowls you've usually got firmly implanted on your pusses for Awful Truth reading...and get happy with us! 'Cause you're about to read our bottom nine reasons for being celebrity correspondents in Hollywood.

Here's what, exactly, makes our lives worth getting up in the ayem, no joke. Without further ado, let's get to all the H-town crapola we're utterly thankful for this holiday season!

Kevin Federline

Chris Weeks/WireImage.com

No, we're not appreciative of K-Fed because of the musical genius of "PopoZão" or his penchant for baggy pants. But we are quite grateful that he was the dubious dude Brit chose to hook up with. Let's face it: Brit was always dying to rebel and choose a bad boy who would shock the public. She was sick of being controlled by managers, Mom, record execs and the public, so she went and got herself hitched to someone with seemingly no redeeming qualities—makes perf sense to me.

So, a year later, Britney's had enough of said greasy dude in her life and sends him packin'. Whorey hoo-ray! Now, she's back with her old manager, Larry Rudolph, she's America's Sweetheart again and she's on her way toward a comeback (although I'm not sure how much hanging pantless with Paris in Sin City will help). See, if she hadn't picked someone so sucky to marry, this thing coulda dragged on for years 'n' years, à la Whitney and Bobby. So, Kev, we salute you—for helping Brit see the loser light so damn quickly. Yay!

Paparazzi

Chris Weeks/WireImage.com

We gotta give kudos to the supposed media bane of celebs' existences. What other peeps, besides those precious paps, would have the dedication to stand outside Hyde, night after night, for friggin' hours on end, just to capture Tara Reid getting denied at the door? I ask you: What other selfless species on Earth would relentlessly chase Lindsay Lohan down Robertson Boulevard every day, just so we can all know exactly what kind of salad she ate at the Ivy or what clothing she purchased at Kitson? (Speaking of, Linds-babe, you might wanna invest in some undies.) And just think of the countless football 'n' soccer games these shutterbugs on crack have endured to get yet another shot of TomKat cheering on the sidelines! Really, we can't thank them enough for allowing the public to gaze upon these priceless moments.

George W. Bush

Jason Moore/ZUMApress.com

Darling, Mr. Prez, we love ya! Withoutcha, the country would still be sorely divided into factions of what is right and wrong. Now, thanks to your ineptitude (and pure evil doings) in Iraq, we're all, albeit slowly, coming together again and realizing we really do have something worth fighting for: the good of our country—without money-minded politicians who make oily, backroom deals. And let's face it, us Dems never would have gotten the House back without you—you little Oval Office version of K-Fed, you!

My Name Is Earl, Jason Lee

Paul Drinkwater/NBC

Here in T-town, where dodging tough questions is de rigueur and "no comment" is constantly heard, we're applauding honest celebs such as Jason Lee. And he gets extra snaps for spilling the beans so easily. See, way back at the Stuff mag party, I asked if he had any well wishes for Jaime Pressly, who'd just gotten engaged. And he not only gave props to her as a future wife—but as a future mama, too! Talk about a journalists' jackpot: a juicy answer to a harmless question. Now, we give J.P. a wrist-slap, as she lied and denied about expecting for ages, but it's her womb, right? Guess it's her right.

Oh, and that Reichen Lehmkuhl gets a nice facial expression honesty award, too—for absolutely blanching when Desk South Beach asked when, exactly, Mr. R. first knew he was in love with Lance. Can startled eyes actually say…never?

Brandon Davis

Chris Weeks/WireImage.com

Brandon Davis, boyfriend, we love ya! After all, isn't your Lindsay Lohan-directed, slurred-catchphrase Firecrotch the new Brangelina of bastardized Hollywood denizen lingo? Only this time, you're simply marrying a celeb with her body parts instead of another person! Man, you're a genius. I'd hire ya in a sec if you just figured out how to do crunches.

Chad Lowe

Lisa O'Connor/ZUMAPress.com

Stars take themselves so damn seriously, especially when they tawk and tawk about their work. That news flash said, it's always quite refreshing when these famous folk can inject a little irony and sarcasm into the me-me-me-mix. Chad Lowe did just that when he was introducing his directorial debut, Beautiful Ohio, at the AFI Fest. After blabbing 'bout the film and rifling off a long list of thank-yous, Chad paused and said, "I wouldn't want to forget anyone" before dissolving in hysterical laughter. This obvious reference to Hil's leaving him out of her thank-yous during her first Oscar acceptance speech had the audience in stitches.

Still haven't gotten over that one, huh, Chad?
Mischa Barton

Nancy Kaszerman/ZUMApress.com

I'm also grateful when those big, bad celebs slip up every now and then—aren't you? Just 'cause it proves they're ordinary peeps, like you and moi. Take Mischa Barton at the Ray-Ban Wayfarer Sessions, for ince. After Mischa had her glamour-ass turn on the red carpet, she took a nasty spill up in the VIP room in front of all the posh partiers. Never fear, Miz B. picked herself up and handled it like a pro.

Also havin' embarrassing moments in public: Paris Hilton, after the Jay-Z concert in Vegas this weekend. My fave svelte-doll, and yours, spent most of the concert checking herself out in her compact and quenching her thirst with swigs from a bottle of Grey Goose. After Jay-Z was done, P. got up to perform two songs from her album. She opened her mouth—but what came pouring out was definitely not sweet music. Nerves getting the best of you, babe?

Or is that Oops subcategory of Man-Recycling exhausting ya? I mean, Cristina 'n' I adore so how babes recycle romances better than they do paper, and such, in this town. Stavros has been shared by, well, let's see, Mary-Kate Olsen, Paris, Linds, etc., right? And what about those quasi-sex-ay studs Harry Morton and Matt Leinart? In other words, is that a gun or a disposable dude in your pocket? Whoops!
Mel Gibson

AP Photo/Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department

Mel Gibson, gawd, are we ever happy your drunken ass got pulled over. Finally, the world got to hear how you really felt regarding those subjects you had, heretofore, filtered through overly long movies with incomprehensible languages. Who knew all it took was a (big) bottle o' booze and a "sugar"-bosomed cop to find out how you, deep down inside, felt about women and Jews. Can't wait to hear the diatribes when a gay copper pulls you over next time!

And Michael Richards and Isaiah Washington: honorary drumsticks to you, too—you angry girls. So glad we all know how you two also really feel! Bigotry's gonna disappear, pronto, with jokers like you around.

Doll-babes, it's been a rough few months, I know. What with our new redesign, which seems to burp a new production prob faster than Tom Cruise remarries, Cristina and I are very, very grateful that you're sticking with us. After all, this glam stuff takes tinkering, and if you plastic-surgery-obsessed sweethearts don't know the price of beauty...well then, I simply don't know who does.

Here's to a happy, happy holiday (and an even toastier, more roastier 2007)! And please—I beg of you—be kind to Cristina, who is covering for me next week while I'm on vacation. After all, she may be a tough Jersey broad, but she's still my favorite go-to goss gal.

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