Whether it's Madonna's reported doings or zero-sense-of-humor Dr. Phil's thin epidermis, girlfriends, do we have naughtiness for ya today! Plus, Kanye really needs to cool it, but like that's ever going to happen.
Don’t think anything Madonna issues publicly, i.e., press releases, has bubkes to do with the reality of the potentially sad sitch. Yes, M’s seriously contemplating divorce, so gab my Big M movers ‘n’ snitters. But actually, more revealing is what’s barreling in from A-Rod’s camp. Certainly his more unofficial campers, that is. Meaning his relatives, who are gabbing totally in overdrive right now about their famous (infamous) athlete blood relation. Wanna hear?
“They’re absolutely doing it,” insist these New Yawk loose lippers thisclose to A.R., who’s being divorced by his blondie wife, Cynthia, as we cybergoss. Doing what, I wonder? Talking kabbalah? Trading baseball tips?
Do tell, M ‘n’ A. We’re all ears.
Like the humpy chick above, H’wood sure loves its Pilates, but the town's far from a peaceful place outside the studio. The whole damn place is overflowing with egomaniacal stars who can’t take criticism without morphing into the Hulk. At least these stuck-up, arrogant celebs make more convincing Hulks than the CGI green guy from this summer’s superhero flick.
Kanye West is surely at the top of this tantrum-throwing list, though at least he isn't hurling phones at people’s heads à la bad-temper titans Naomi Campbell or Russell Crowe. From defiantly defending his two-hour delay at Bonnaroo music fest to wishing ill will (to put it lightly) on the staff of Entertainment Weekly for daring to rate his Glow in the Dark tour a humiliating B+, everyone seems to be suffering the wrath of Kan in blog form.
'Twas just a rumor, said Ye himself in—where else?—his blog that his reps were forcing the rap star to take some anger-management classes to curb his laptop rants. Kay-babe’s posts full of capitalized SCREAMING ain’t goin’ anywhere, wrote the type-happy guy. “I don’t do interviews—if there’s anything I wanna say I’ll say it right here on my own blog.” Little does K.W. know, unleashing his anger online makes him seem as riled up as a 15-year-old bashing bullies 'cause he can’t stand the heat in person. Sorta silly way to work out your probs, Kan-babe. Maybe ya should listen to somebody’s advice for once and talk it out? You’ll at least save yourself one problem: carpal tunnel.
You could always book an appointment with Dr. Phil—we doubt his schedule is all that full nowadays. Doc McGraw reportedly makes a living doling out the life advice and giving strangers “tough love,” seeing it as his unalienable right to tell people what they don’t want to hear. Mighty funny, then, for us at least, that Dr. P got all uppity at a Hell-Ay George Michael concert when G.M. poked at the doc and his wife in the crowd. The pair were booed and became the butt of a bunch of jokes by Georgie M., and the embarrassed couple flew the coop, 'course. Philly was seriously upset by the roasting—guess the hirsuteness-free one can’t handle being pooh-pooh’d in public, the way every guest on his show is. Guess no one ever talks back to ya there, the way you like (and demand) it.
And as if it isn't sensationally obvious enough, just thought all you Phil-haters (second only to Rachael Ray-despisers, for whatever reason) might like it confirmed: McGraw was majorly pissed. Those who toil beside him tell us how "really upset" he was by Michael's disses and how much they gnawed at P.M. for days after, making the already somewhat tricky minefield of working in McGraw's employ even more so. Hell, we agree with Michael, already—the dubious doc really should see somebody about this resentment. Just might be able to discover his own part in it, eh?
Will Smith is H’wood’s biggest superhero of the moment—sorry Iron Man and Spidey, your places in the sun now belong to Hancock (at least for another week until Batman returns to the crime-fighting, box-office scene). But just 'cause Big Willie’s proven to be a sure thing at the megaplex, don’t let that fool ya into trusting this movie star in other PR respects. W.S. is a PG family man who refuses to utter a nasty word in his raps and who says he values his fam’s privacy more than any of the friggin' summer homes the Pinkett-Smiths prolly own. But then Mr. Smith chitchats to Fox News—'cause they aren't considered a tabloid, just like Vanity Fair, right?—about how he keeps his 11-year marriage as hot 'n' heavy as the honeymoon: “Lots of sex. All the time, every day. Just lots of sex keeps me going good!” 'Scuse us, but that ain’t exactly keeping it private, is it? At least Smithy didn’t specify any sexual positions between him and the wife. Hmmm...wonder why?
So hypocritical, like Rock the Vote campaign spokessiren Paris Hilton, who wasn’t even registered at the time. (Then again, who's taking political advice from Par-poo when you have a talking head like Spencer Pratt to guide you?)
So many stars say one thing, do another and then expect us not to notice. We can’t get over the former mascara-laden tears squeezed out of Britney Spears' ducts as she begged the paps to bugger off and leave her alone. Which is precisely why she filmed a reality show using private camera footage, went to Starbucks every day instead of picking up a superdeluxe espresso machine and staying home and, that’s right, dated a photo-dog. Sorry, Brit, can’t have it both ways. And neither can the Fresh Prince. As long as you’re opening up, Willy, why don’t you really open up on your friendship with Tom Cruise? We suspect it’s a lot more than bitching about Jada's and Katie’s cooking.