Crazy, Beautiful

Crazy, Beautiful

By Ted Casablanca Jul 30, 2008 12:41 PMTags

Oscar-nominated freaks are sniffing our hair, Batman's looking fierce while he falls apart and the Bunny knives sure seem to be out over at the booby-trapped Playboy Mansion—be very careful as you goss with us today!

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There’s a flick coming out this Friday in New York, it’s called America the Beautiful. I’m in it, but that is not the reason I think you should run to see this movie. America’s a pissyass, yet highly entertaining documentary by Darryl Roberts about how we’re all so slavishly trying to look like, fawn over, emulate and ridicule (i.e., secretly pining to be) rail-thin model types like Paris Hilton. Why do dudes only want to do chicks like her? Why do so many young girls ache to walk in her stilettos?

 

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Paris herself is interviewed. So, too, is my booby colleague from Texas, Jessica Simpson. Vagina Monologue creator Eve Ensler is particularly droll and rebel-mouthed in her deadpan appraisal of how women are—per usual—treated like dicks in this culture. Check it out, fer sure. Great stuff from Roberts, who, by the by, thought Marilyn Manson was a pretty together dude who’d let him use some of his gal-empowering music for the movie. No go. M2’s a money-grubbing tool and wouldn’t participate, figures Roberts. Wouldn’t surprise me. I mean, Manson wants to be Paris more than anybody.

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Angelina finally gave birth to the most anticipated creatures in the world, and like any Hollywood trend, the B-Lister’s are sure to follow. Jerry O’ Connell and Rebecca Romijn announced they are expecting twins this winter, which I told you days ago was a superstrong likelihood. ‘Member, I chatted with J at the Bow Wow Wow event and Jare revealed he and R were trying to get pregnant. “It would be amazing if it happened; I hope it does happen,” he blabbed first to A.T. J.O. added they were currently trying. Meaning, they’re still doing it, just to make sure, love it!

“Which is a lot of fun for me, you know. At least a few days a month,” J gigglingly elaborated...so Matthew McConaughey of him. Jay, ‘course, is working here in Hell-Ay while Rebecca is filming Ugly Betty out in New Yawk. While he dished that a little separation might be the key to a successful marriage, he also stressed that when together, “You want to make the most of your time.” Looks like they make up for time wasted in the bedroom. Congrats to the happy bunny-rabbit beauties! Why would anyone ever care if docs in labs coats were used along the way—it’s all so fab!

AP Photo

Another (eerier) foreshadowed moment comes from my interview with Kelsey Grammer at the Hell-Ay premiere of Swing Vote. K.G. was hospitalized in InWhySee over the weekend while promoting his new flick. Contrary to what you might think, it was not the heinousness dorkass quality of SV—second only to Mamma Mia!, to be sure—that made the former Frasier star sick, but he went to the hospital because he “felt faint.” Kels nearly died in June when he suffered a heart attack, so he went to see about altering his meds.

Jeez, was just last Thursday that Kels was joking around with us about his recent brush with death. When asked what Kelsey considered a stress reliever he said, “Just have a heart attack!” He looked quite dapper at the event with his wife, Camille, by his side and was joking that it was because he’s been eating “less salt.” Oh, gawd, you didn’t hit In-N-Out in the meantime, did ya, babe?

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So this stacked blond writer was talking to Julia Roberts’ old flame Jason Patric at the new hit hang in Culver City, Rush Street. Said blondie and the quasi-humpy Patric (in other words, it’s still fairly possible to see why J.R. ditched fiancé Kiefer Sutherland at the altar so she could run off and make fornication pies with Patric all those years ago) were gabbing ‘bout the fact that she'd recently interviewed the director of Patric’s latest movie, Expired, which is just the loveliest little stinker, complete with such glorious shots as Patric whacking off to Internet porn and Teri Garr, who plays a stroke victim, literally mumbling through her entire performance. Not exactly H'wood’s most shining hour.

Mike Owen/eyevine/ZUMA Press

The big-titted one asked handsome Jason, somewhat smokin’ in a green tee and jeans, about his filming experience. "Samantha Morton is crazy", he exclaimed, while eyeing the other bar patrons and barely looking the lass in the eye. "Crazy?" she asked. "What do you mean"? "No...She's really a nut job. It wasn't fun at all", replied the 42-year-old actor/sasser. Now, gotta tell you all that this little hissy declaration really annoyed the blond journo, who just happened to be a superbig fan of Morton. Let’s say J.P. got a very loud earful right back. He winced. The star of Speed 2 then retired to a booth in the packed restaurant, where he proceeded to scope out the Kardashian-infused eye candy that was starting to arrive on this par-tick Friday. Apparently the night to scope the brainiacs is Tuesday.

Jerod Harris/ZUMAPress.com

Back over at the Swing Vote premiere, Larry King, weighed in on who lies better, actors or politicians. The old man chuckled, “It’s close. I’ll tell ya how you know when either one is lying: If a politician or an actor answers a question by saying ‘I’m glad you asked that,’ a lie is coming.” Noted Lar.

 

 

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Also stopping by for Kev-hon’s silly flick were Tim Allen, Quentin Tarantino and Dane Cook. Not sure exactly what D.C. was doing there; however, I shouldn’t say I was surprised to see Gary Busey show—dude always pops in when you least expect it. I couldn’t pass up a sure-thing odd encounter with the real nut job (Samantha Morton, my still-taut ass), so I asked G.B. the lying query. Gare-Bear, referring to himself in the third person, sorta garbled out: “Oh that’s a dangerous question for this kid. I think the jury’s still out on that.” Then, never one to disappoint, Busey creepily leaned in and whispered in my ear, “Politicians.” I’m pretty sure he took a nice whiff of my coif too. Needless to say, my night ended up with a good hot shower. And just to rid myself of the utter dirtiness of it all, thought of Jason, not Gary, as I scrubbed and rubbed. The Samantha-insulter still has to be good for something, right?