Girls Just Wanna Have Power!

By Ted Casablanca Apr 23, 2007 7:01 AMTags
Did the First Lady really walk out on Dubya? Did the American-dream-turned-nightmare ditch manager Larry RudolphLaura Bush and Britney Spears are doin’ it for themselves and it’s sinfully delish as apple pie!
Oh, isn't it too delish, seeing those goss-column thinly veiled items appear in venues elsewhere regarding a certain "bombshell" actress who recently dirtied her hotel mattress and has a rep for liking "dirty" sex with her partner? And just as scrumptious as this news is, it's also, well, old.
Jeffrey Mayer/WireImage.com,Nancy Kaszerman/ZUMApress.com

Been running that Blind bit fer ages (practically). So long, in fact, I'm sure by the time this buxom babe reveals herself—as all "dirty"-deed types usually do, in the end—she'll be onto a new sex scene, fer sure! And, no, you nasty-ass, lesbian-baiting Donald Trump, our big ta-ta'd type is most certainly not Rosie O'Donnell, so you'll have no further femme-fodder fer your Irish nemesis from yours truly.

Jesse Grant/WireImage.com

Oh, by the by, for all you gaga goss types who are fretting right about now on just who this naughty gal could be, no, it's not Jessica Biel, not evah! And gotta warn ya: Our mystery gal ain't no comparison to her filthy-butt (albeit terribly talented, in many ways) boyfriend, who lives to use his woman like a toilet. Gross! On to the next item, pronto, please!

Dimitrios Kambouris/WireImage.com
Just as disgusting, mind you, is the story of domesticated ruinous romance I ran last week. I mean, specifically, the inside dope I've been delivering regarding Laura Bush, First Lady of the U.Es., not exactly residing at the White House right now. Scuttlebutt being—according to prominent and knowledgeable Washington know-it-everythings—Laura moved into the ritzy Hay-Adams hotel, because she couldn't stand Dubya's drinkin' no more.

The White House refused comment. Repeatedly. Meaning, I called over. A lot. Most-heard excuse by moi was that everybody had "stepped out," so claimed "Sarah" from "Mrs. Bush's press office," as she identified herself.

I declare. Sarah, as well as the folks over at Mr. Bush's media corral, really do need to come to Hollywood for a quick course in how to best bulls--t during calls from journalists. "I can't reach Mrs. Bush right now," or even a simple, "I'll pass along your message," would have sufficed beautifully. Instead, Laura Bush's silence to my inquiries (yes, the First Lady is entitled to privacy, but hell, if she's checked out of 1600 Pennsylvania due to the leader of the free world's imbibing, that's news) combined with her spokesperson's nervous Nellie uttering, I smell somethin' bad.

Jason Moore/ZUMApress.com

Additionally, my trusty and, like, totally connected Desk DeeCee reports further 80-proof suspicions from Potomacville, regarding whether or not the Prez (who once abstained from alcohol) is drinking again:

Desk D.C. is one of those who hang and socialize at the White House. Desk Dee says fellow hangers and members there report that when they gab with G.W.B., "There is definite slurrage...not just the regular word mangling, eliding and grammar screwups when he speaks off the cuff, but real slurring in speeches and interviews."

Could any of this above crap have anything to do with why Bush keeps making hideous state decision after another, and I'm not just talkin' Iraq?

Now, for something really vital to the affairs of this country: BritGate! 

Remember how I told you last week that Britney's been hard at work, dancing her butt off, to prep for her upcoming House of Blues tour? Well, the part of the story about those crazy rehearsal outfits panned out. Paps have snapped her in some pretty wacky getups since we ran that item.

But now with red-hot word that B.S. has fired Larry Rudolph and rehired publicist Leslie Sloane Zelnick as her mouthpiece, I wanted to get the scoop straight from her rep. So, I shot Leslie an email asking if Brit is indeed gearing up for her comeback tour during her myriad moments at the Millennium Dance Complex.

"She is in the studio recording for her album," was the curt reply. (Leslie obviously wasn't raised in the gracious-ass South!) 

Okay, that's all well and good, but what about the rumored tour, where B.S. is supposed to preview some new tracks? And what really happened with her and Larry? Those were the burning Q's on my brain—yours too, I'm sure. 

Well, guess what? Nobody’s officially gabbin’, including the supposedly deposed career director, Rudolph, who’s been with B.S. since she had far more pimples than paramours.

Howevah, just for you fab Awful-ites, got some additional scoopage: A source veddy, veddy close to the whole sad sitch tells moi that even though Ms. Es may have, indeed, fired Rudolph, she was not, by law, permitted to do so. In other legalese words, a Spears camper superduper close to the dicey showdown tells me Rudolph considers himself still legally bound to Spears, not just morally (he’s wanted Spears to get sober, for, like eons, now).

And as far as the goss goes regarding Britney working on a new album, this same source who has intimate knowledge of all things Brit, snapped, “What album?”

Hmmm. Ms. Spears, what’s goin’ on here? You partying or preparing to be a pro again, what gives?
Bridget Moynahan, shopping for lingerie at Bloomie's in Century City. Could the former babe of Tom Brady have a new amour interest she's trying to seduce? Or maybe the expecting mama just wanted somethin' sexy for herself? Whatever the reason, she's lookin' "very normal, very pregnanty, very tall and very thin," reports Desk Negligee. "If you saw her from behind, you'd never know she's preggers," they insist. A fellow femme who survived a nasty split elsewhere was...
Sophia Bush, hangin' with her sisters. Well, sorority ones, that is. The former Trojan was the "surprise celebrity guest" at USC for a philanthropy event, where she posed for pics and signed autographs with excited gals. Soph-babe was sporting a yellow Lacoste shirt and jeans. "She was supersweet and prettier in person," says my sorta-saccharine spy. Just as chummy elsewhere was...
JC Chasez, in deep conversation with a boy bud. The post-soiree for the In the Land of Women premiere at Cabana Club on Monday. The blue-eyed former boy-babe bander was wearing a black sweater and was bundled in a big ol' gray scarf, as if he were trekking through the friggin' Arctic tundra. Come on, bro, it's April in Hell-Ay. The dump winds ain't that bad!