por Ted Casablanca | Traducido por | lun., 3 mar. 2008 12:01 AM
Whitney's Whatever: Nobody’s begging for this broad to follow through on her reported “comeback” more than this cantankerous queen. But I’m getting (even more) gray hairs waiting for it, and I’m friggin' fed up. Was especially peeved when musical insiders told me—despite Clive Davis setting up recording sessions for Whitney to deliver her newly written material—that “she never makes it completely through [a session].” So snark those who are equally upset over W.H.’s tepid tries.
“It ain’t gonna happen,” says our Whitney witness, regarding a big splashy reentry into the music scene. At least, not anytime soon, say these record biz movers ‘n’ snarkers. Triple merde. (More on Ms. H latuh.)
Britney's (Shaved) Cojones: B.S. ‘rents, Lynne and Jamie, are finally back on the scene but so are B.S.’s bad habits. Apparently the girl’s underwear is in the same place her right mind is in, 'cause it’s been MIA for so long we’re gonna have to have a dual funeral for the both.
Britters reportedly stormed into a Betsey Johnson boutique and wanted them to re-create a white Dolce & Gabbana dress by that evening. Why the rush, Spearsy? Got an appointment with Adnan at the chapel you couldn’t cancel? B-hon settled for purchasing a yellow wig, straight off a mannequin’s head, for one Benjamin. Yellow’s the new pink?
Lest you or Daddy Spears think just showing up and dining out with your daughter’s gonna do a damn thing in the long run, B-babe’s crotch cavorting is nowhere near kaput...and neither is her penchant for making boutique salesgirls squirm. Can’t anyone realize the lady has to leave Hell-Ay (if not planet Earth) before she can get any better?
Whoopi's Wimpiness: Ms. Goldberg says she’s now A-okay for her supersuspicious Oscar snub: Nary a single hosting clip of the comedian’s was shown in the telecast. (Oops, did we say we were done with Oscar gab? What can we say, except, we were kidding! So sorry.) Whoops got an apology from the AA’s producer for the whoops, and bygones are cool.
Pardon us for picking this snubby scab, but W.G., you were an emcee four times, and you were both the first female host and the first African-American host. Simple oversight? Bullmerde to moi. Allow us to now be offended that you’re taking this lying down, Whoo. Thought you were more aggressive than that.
Paris' Manacles: P-poo and Benji Madden are the comeliest couple o’ the week. Benji-boy's been shacking up with the pooch-poofing heiress mere weeks after ending his engagement to Aussie actress Sophie Monk.
B.M. reportedly plopped a ring on Par’s digits, which is surprising—not because their relaysh is moving at flashbulb-flickering speed, but because Benny-babe was able to obtain a ring big enough to fit on P.H.’s huge hands. Plus, blondie’s already up on Good Charlotte’s website in a so-called “family” photo. But why stop there? Where’s the sex tape, kiddos? Where’s the giant “That’s Hot” tattoo inked on your scrotum, Benj?
Some think it’s a PR ploy or the most rancid rebound of all time, but I think their coupling is just a plain old case of sibling rivalry gone socialite-ified. Joel got the better looks in the fam, and then he obtained the more famous (and more useless) g-f. You know Benny-boy wanted to trump his twin so terribly, and there’s no one more infamous and more willing to bang pretty much anybody, in at least some fashion, than Ms. Hilton. No wonder Marilyn Katzenberg, David’s mama, is shizzing her Lean Cuisines over D’s affair with robo-sis Nicky.
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