OMMG! (That's Oh-My-Mystery-God!, babes), we've got yet another Toothy Tile in the works, how divinely hideous, so check out our sexually outrageous Blind Vice Friday. Plus, David Cook doesn't hold back romantically, either, and who's got Anderson Cooper all hot 'n' furrow-browed, huh?
Naked boy stars screwing indiscriminately, sexy celeb danglings and more—babes, we got it all today, but first, gotta say how much I friggin’ love this biz about Star’s “exclusive” reveal about Matthew McConaughey getting blitzed and falling into raw sewage down in Nicaragua. Uh, we ran with that two days prior to the Star, and subsequently, the Daily Snooze, mentioned it after that. Just to be prissy-precise about it all.
What I adore most, though, is not the public outcry that folks seem to be having over the inappropriateness of a daddy-to-be (M2’s girlfriend, of sorts, is about to give birth to their kid any second) being drunk and debauched, but that this is the dude who set up Kate Hudson with Lance Armstrong? What, between getting tanked and losing his flip-flops and stumbling into Central American poop piles? Oh yeah, this is really who I’d want guiding me into my next amour sitch.
Well, certainly suits, and compares to, Kate’s picker selection in the past, gotta say that much. Not sure wild 'n' hazy Matty’s gonna do any worse. And now that we’ve gotcha thinkin’ on folks not exactly together who are together, let’s go:
Idol champ David Cook is warming up nicely to this whole celebrity thang. Davey partied with a bunch of pals, including new arm candy and ex-Idol ingenue Kimberly Caldwell, at H’wood’s nightclubbing douche epicenter, Les Deux. D.C. was celebrating his younger bro Andrew's 21st in style at the chic spot, complete with bottle service in a posh private area, guarded by two body goons. Damn, how many security guards do ya think Taylor Hicks or Ruben Studdard are sporting nowadays? Give Cookie-hon another month and he’ll be as down-to-earth as John Mayer, driving all around town in the back of a limo.
Cooksie sang '80s rock while his blond babe danced with female friends nearby, stopping every so often to smooch on the singer. Sorry ladies, and some gents, looks like this scruffy stud is spoken for. We hear David Archuleta's still available, at least when his daddy’s not around.
Cook wore a black blazer and superskinny pink tie. Caldwell was really hot. And feelin’ it, too: They couldn’t keep their mucus membranes off each other. At all. Man, I’ll take that kinda feelin’-it fever over Simon’s tired winks any day.
Remember when you’d think of Eddie Murphy and laugh? We mean with the former funnyman, not at him. E.M. hasn’t had the last chuckle recently—he lost an Oscar, begrudgingly gained a Spice Baby and his latest marriage, to Tracey Edmonds, lasted all of 15 days (that’s right, not years, not months—days). Guy’s going through almost as much trauma as we are staring at those creepy Meet Dave posters hung around all over Hell-Ay. Shudder.
But it looks like Eddie’s first wife, Nicole, has blissfully found a new beau in former New York Giant Michael Strahan. From the class clown to the football jock—way to work your way up. The erstwhile defensive end and Nic walked hand in hand down the red carpet at the Samsung Four Seasons of Hope Gala in New Yawk, cuddling on a loveseat while Mikey gave Nicky-babe a neck massage. N.M. was married to Ed for 13 years and bore the dude five kiddos—amazing, we don’t even have the patience to sit through the second Nutty Professor flick. We have no idea how the ef ya did it, babe. Were the rocks that big? That worth it?
One marriage we certainly hope isn't being served on the rocks is a hot H’wood pair ya prolly thought might actually make it to old age together. Christina Aguilera was hiding away at Hyde nightclub sans wedding bling or her hubby, Jordan Bratman. Take it from us happily hitched folk: This ring would have to be pried off our finger to scuttle our butt all over town without it. We sure hope X-tina just took off her band while redyeing her roots and simply forgot to slip it back on—all that bleach is seeping into her noggin’. We like X-hon and Jordy together, trust these two won't end up with a chaotic K-Fed and Brit bitter divorce sitch.
Anderson Cooper, oh, I should tell you, was in the middle of a heated exchange in New Yawk's Time Warner Center. Ander-hon walked in with a just-as-good-lookin' male amigo—not the Latino guy Andy's often been seen with before, but an all-American-ish dude with dark blond/light brown hair and a wee bit too much spray-on tan—but before the two could catch the escalator going up, they stopped and started a riled-up convo, unbothered by all the passersby curiously looking on. Andy-babe, skinny but still sexy in a pair of jeans and a blue tee, appeared seriously frustrated throughout the talk, running his fingers through his silver hair and holding his forehead in his hands. Badass producer on your fine tush, Coop? The two dudes stared at each other for a long time, and then Andy's companion flew up the escalator, while A.C. walked out the front door.
They didn't touch at all. No wave good-bye, hug or handshake. Nothing. Just walked in together, walked as far as the first escalator, they had their noncommunicative moments and they wordlessly turned away from each other. What could you have been talkin' about with your pretty pal? Something work related, or perhaps a matter far more personal? I'm tearing up just relating this, so cold!
Pamela Anderson, we also must report, had an appearance at club Opera in Montreal. Pammy-pie, a Canadian herself, was paid $100 g’s to appear at the shindig, donned a white blouse open down to her navel and way tiny tight white shorts, complete with her trademark blond mane overpowering her head. Apparently, celeb-hungry fans and press people alike were miffed at the Baywatch babe, since she blew off the red carpet, opting to enter through the back door. (We mean that literally, this ain’t another sex-tape type of thang, tho we wouldn’t be surprised if another one was unearthed sooner than later.) P.A. sat her butt down on a couch the whole night and then booked it out of there. Maybe she was on her way to another wedding?
Oh my, who's the latest closeted Hollywood star putting Toothy Tile's daring public nooky shenanigans to shame? Any guesses on Public Thrust, darlings, our newest boy who likes to do it while everyone watches? Clues comin' up!