Our coke-stoked sex-a-luscious Blind Vice today is big, bad and burly—can you guess who our stupid mystery man is? (Betcha can!) Plus, Aussie with the leastest—bump, that is—Nicole Kidman makes ‘em wonder, and we skewer more celebs on our barbie than ever before. Happy Birthday, America, ya don’t look a day over 35.
Happy Fourth, all you firecrotches, I mean, -crackers, course! Oh hell, you know what I mean. It's time to have a blissful weekend of short fuses, fatass food and friends. Very important, that last one. The ones you think are your buds often turn out to have some sort of agenda, ya know? Like the legions of Nicole Kidman hangers-on who are whispering the most mischievious little nothings to me about their good "friend" Nicole. Like the fact that she's supposedly wearing a fake baby bump, there's a surrogate mother, or—this one just in—that Nic-babe's sis, Antonia, actually donated the egg that was fertilized with Keith's sperm and then implanted inside Nicole. See what happens when you live with Tom Cruise for a decade? This kind of stuff just keeps dripping off ya for the rest of your life, but then, nobody's used to that more so than Ms. K. herself. She's a tough one. Just like her blood-thirsty bod-guards, eh?
So far, Nic's camp ain't talking. They're just biding their no-comment time till N.K. pops, which I hear is any sec. And they couldn't be happier with all the Brangelina brouhaha, what with the entire planet salivating for any word whatsoever of Angelina Jolie's delivery. But isn't it funny: Both babes are super-stick-thin when not in the maternal state. Now, however, dare I say, Angie looks simply divinely gorgeous (much more so than she does when she's deathly svelte and bones), and Nic looks, uh, like a coat hanger that swallowed a small rodent. No wonder people are making up these stories.
And they are stories, are they not? Nic?
Exchanging calls galore with Rachael Ray's repper, who keeps leaving me messages regarding our story two days ago about R.R. wanting to call her memoirs some stupid title and not being great with deadlines. "I'm 99 percent it's not true," relayed the nice enough P.R. dude. What? That the requested title by R2 (EVOhno and EVOhMy!, both beyond idiotic plays on EVOO = extra-virgin olive oil, so annoying) aren't accurate? That the memoir's not happening after all? That R.R. is not a giant douche who has trouble meeting editorial deadlines? Which one percentile is accurate? Do tell, doll.
Because, since our item, a number of folk who have worked closely with Ray in the past have begun contacting me, blabbing that it was not always the smoothest of experiences. EVOhNoYouDon't, in other words, might be the more accurate title of Ray's reported tome.
Are ya ready for some nice, plump wiener talk, everybody? I mean, it's the damn Fourth of Friggin' July! Let's celebrate our independence, already. After all, we're the land of the free and the bravado, right? Yep, so let's exercise that ballsy 'tude and speak out against those who have been so tyrannically trying to force-feed us with their pork-filled drivel and most unappetizing goings-on. Time for the inaugural A.T. Weenie Roast! Following are a dozen and two T-town dogs who think they're so hot—22, 'course, in honor of Lindsay Lohan's B-day. Hey, SamRo, you planning an extra-special toasting of Linds' buns this weekend?
22. Miley and Billy Ray Cyrus: This father-daughter pair is on the verge of becoming the next Dina and Ali Lohan. But, ya know, with talent.
21. Diddy: Rave reviews from Broadway, your cologne and designer duds are selling like cray-zay—but when was the last rap album you made? Way to earn that "music" star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, tool.
20. Lance Armstrong: Are you getting all your recent exercise bedding beautiful celebs instead of biking? Who knew a cyclist could be more of a lothario than footballer Tony Romo?
19. Spencer and Heidi: Montag's planning to record a Christian album, which makes even less sense than d-bag extraordinaire Spence having an advice column. At least they're dating each other, sparing the rest of the world from their catty clutches.
18. The Hogans: Like a blond Addams Family. But even more creepy, kooky and altogether ooky, par-tick those photos of Daddy Hulk's hands all over Brooke's butt. Blah. Gotta say, though, the cradle-robbing mama gets my vote for Best Dog-Catcher this holiday season—you, go, horny g-f!
17. John Mayer: You've changed, man. From Jennifer Love Hewitt to Jennifer Aniston, you've gone from floppy-haired music dude who's cool to getting lewd in a Miami pool. You know how to play the ladies better than the guitar.
16. Naomi Campbell: We'd love to see N.C. on American Gladiators with all that adrenaline. Instead of the joust or the javelin, Camp-babe could just hurl a cell phone.
15. Joel and Benji Madden: You realize you've alienated all your emo-age fans for a chance at scoring some high-end ass, right boys? Be careful of all that limelight, babes, your tough-guy tats will start to fade.
14. Sienna Miller: From Jude Law to Rhys Ifans, and allegedly now further inappropiate dudes—S is picking up where Lindsay Lohan left off. Except she's British, so, natch, all the bed hopping is dubiously considered more classy, as if orgasming with an accent is more proper.
13. Tori and Candi Spelling: Candi-girl blogs while off-and-on daughter Tori tells all—they can't keep their private lives to themselves, no matter how much we want them to.
12. Sharon Stone: After your heinous remarks regarding China, just stick to what you do best. No, not acting. What is it that you do best again? Run auctions?
11. Samantha Ronson: We hope you and Linds tie the knot. (Hey, it's legal in California now, why the hell not?) You'd be the most normal addition to the Lohan clan. Or is that honor for Michael's shrugged-off supposed spawn, Ashley?
10. Lily Allen: Even worse than your hot-pink hair and on-display drunken debauchery is the rumor you want to duet with LiLo on your new record. Your career choices are getting as cracked out as Wino's hive.
9. Mitch and Janis Winehouse: A Grammy winner at 24, your daughter is well ahead of her age. How ahead? She also has early signs of emphysema. Stop constantly talking to the press about Amy and start talking to her, while she still has vocals chords to talk back.
8. Mischa Barton: We don't care about your cellulite. We also no longer really care about your career. And it looks like it's been a long time since you've cared about your clothes.
7. Katherine Heigl: Who knew you'd become Grey's No. 1 villain once Isaiah left? Maybe he shoulda stuck around, then your badmouthing of the show's writers wouldn't look so bitchy.
6. Matthew McConaughey: We can't get enough of your bongo-playing, silly surfer stud slipping into sewage during drunken Nicaraguan nights. Think your baby mama, Camila, is enjoying it as much as we are?
5. Mike Myers: M2 should pull a Steve Martin and focus on some human comedy—write a play or a memoir. Just stop trying to convince us that obvious jokes made at the expense of midgets and the country of India are funny.
4. Kate Middleton: We can tell you are so not into being pimped as the new queen-to-be (since Camilla, that scheming down-graded Duchess will never be one, regardless if her schmuck of a cheating husband ascends to the British throne). Guess you found out they don't teach beer pong in charm school. Bitchin' Di would have approved.
3. Brangelina Twins: Before you're even born, you babies are already better looking than the rest of the population. Way to give the Lopez-Anthony offspring set an inferiority complex.
2. Tatum O'Neal: You get caught buying crack—referred to as "disorderly conduct", how cute—and your fine was less than a hundred bucks? We just hope you didn't eBay off your Oscar for a score.
1. Beckham's Package: The most delicious offering on the grill. Still, D.B.'s bulge is getting more overexposed than Posh's bob. At least this trend isn't as successfully lifted by copycats.
NAUGHTY NOTE TO READERS: We here at the obviously phallic happy A.T. are off next Monday. Forgive us for taking a holiday, but we're stopping over to Joel McHale's for a delish barbecue—J. said he wanted to throw a few dogs over the coals, along with Ryan. We're so in!
Porta-Potbelly's got a craving for candy—the regular gumdrop variety, as well as the sweet stuff that goes in your schnoz. Good thing his latest projects have propelled him into the limelight—and into a lotta ladies' laps. It's also shot him right into our Blind Vice alley of dubious behavior. Welcome, P.P.!