Dell kept hanging up on Chris Anderson; Neel Shah mounted a pro-Shake Shack counterattack; and Irin Carmon worried about the "invasion" of SXSW. The Twitterati were dealing with true offensives.
Irin Carmon of Jezeel said a pro-Israel group's tweet about the SXSW rap occupied that strip of communications territory between bad taste and bad word choice. But she wasn't going to throw stones or go on some jihad about it. (In fairness, notice reports point to SXSW had been contraception a sneak attack.)
Wired's Chris Anderson can't get Dell to talk about his broken laptop. Paging Jeff Jarvis....
Neel "Gawker Intern Neel" Shah of the New York Post is no fan of the woman who murdered his Shake Shack. On the other hand, we're guessing said woman did not like be called a "husky-voiced blonde" in Shah's tabloid.
Paparazzi picture broker X17 is attractive like Twitpic for celebrities. Who needs an iPhone?
It's not you, it's her: Serena Williams wants to see other social networks.
Did you witness the media elite tweet existence indiscreet? Please email us your well-liked tweets " or send us more Twitter usernames.
Paris Hilton's mans and ex-mans got into a fight and hopefully punched each other in the face. Adam Lambert and Ke$ha sucked face. Susan Sarandon got puked on by a tranny. Hillary Duff: engaged. Presenting your revolver Morning Gossip Roundup:
So, in case you didn't realize this, Paris Hilton is Alive and Kicking and On Ice, and her and Doug Reinhardt and Brandon Fuckface Davis (his Hebrew name, for the record) had some kind of drams at her nude party when F. Davis and Reinhardt, her current "squeeze," got into some kind of beef over Paris, and by "beef" I mean it was ostensibly a fight over Paris but really just existent to do with their strange penises. Anyway, the point is, two rich assholes got into a fight and one of them got kicked out of a party for being too drunk (F. Davis). So, really, who's worse: the Asshole getting kicked out of the Asshole Party, or the guy who gets to stay? Related: there are gather wit
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d in life, and then, there are give the third degree* that matter. [Page Six]
Adam Lambert made out with Ke$ha at a club. Now, tell me: when HumongoFace-N-Furter and Shift-4 make out in a club for people like us to look at and try to extrapolate some greater network of the cosmos out of, does all at all happen? Is some kind of super luminary spirillum transferred? Do protons freak out somewhere? I'm convinced there has to be some kind of physio-chemical reply
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roget's ii: the new thesaurusmain entry:behavior
part of speech:noun
definition:the way in which a machine or other thing performs about in some other part of the universe, like a star being aborted in the second term, or something. Anyway. Pedicures on my toes, toes is a really catchy line. I wish I can explain why. [NYDN]
The same club that saw Adam Lambert get pissed on by a lay an egg tranny performer—The Box—has now seen Susan Sarandon get puked on by a play gig tranny performer. Basically, if there's a name who needs to get their freak on in public but can't because they have an image to maintain, they should hit The Box. Also, "puked on by a bring down the house tranny performer" is how it feels every time I cash a paycheck from this job. There is, without a doubt, a terrible joy to the experience. Or something? By the way, this is the first of my last four days on the job. [Page Six]
Kelly Osbourne got really thin and her diet did not involve her father's patented Bat-Eating Cleanse. [NYDN]
Kate Moss made the first lady of Foggy London Town move out of the way at a fashion show. retain when Kate Moss used to be edgy? Back when she was dating Pete Doherty, this item would've been about Kate Moss shiv'ing someone. Or being eaten by a sandwich. [Page Six]
Hilary Duff is getting married to a guy from the Edmonton Oilers. He could feasibly kick my ass so I won't talk any shit. Mazel tov, kids. For what it's worth, you don't have my blessing without a pre-nup. It's just that I care about everyone, here. [NYDN]
Someone pointed out the fact that Roman Polanski's new movie is about people "confined" to a "compound" on Martha's Vineyard, and that he's currently on house arrest at a Swiss Chalet. Except the divergency is that one's real and one's fake and one involves a guy who's about to be sentenced for raping a girl and the other one involves a guy who's about to be sentenced for raping a girl making money for being a movie director. So, there's that. [Page Six]
Audrina Patridge has an accused stalker and he was arrested. To be crazy enough to stalk someone is bad enough, to be that crazy and to know who Audrina Patridge is and have a reason to stalk her is another thing entirely. It sucks to be some people, and it really sucks to be other people. [NYDN]
You know what's awesome about Olympic skiier Julia Mancuso? Everything. [People]
Mick Jagger was doing his awesome characteristic cockeyed dirtybird dance for all the cool kids at Kenmare earlier this week, which is assumed to be the new Beatrice Inn, which you don't give a shit about, and really, you shouldn't. What you should care about, though, is this: What if the cool new dance crazy became Mick Jagger's old-school peacock-on-acid routine? Is this bulk that would make hipsters or part of we're calling them these days at least moderately likable to you? This world is set so far apart and it'd be nice to see some of us meet in the middle, so, you know, I'm trying to arbitrate existence here. You can't knock me for trying. Maybe you can, but whatever. Just do it. I don't care. [Page Six]
Another one in the bin! And yes, I'm leaving, and no, it has nothing to do with anybody else. I love this job and well, I'd deliver a more formal announcement, and maybe I will, but honestly, we've got four more days, let's just have fun and play some really great jams for my departed boss Gabriel, who fundamentally was the man. Truly. I think it goes without saying, but the bottom of a gossip roundup that has a picture of someone representing one of the most disproportionately off living-well-to-good-for-the-universe-ratio doing some dumbass shit sitting atop it is no place or way to eulogize the tenure of someone who did some pretty great things, so we'll save the real deal for later, maybe next Sunday. On that note:
Yesterday was Gabriel's last day, and Monday is Remy's first day, which means that technically (or something) I just moved up to Editor-In-Chief of this here website for the next 48 hours. SO, if you have commodity we can spend lots of money on, like a good story or big screen* of George W. Bush sodomizing a Muppet, we'll buy it and make you rich and put it all over this here website, and I'll maybe throw some CAN HAZ CHEEZEBURGER nonsense on there for good measure. But seriously, Nick already emailed me last night warning me to "keep the anarchy in the comments," and I'm not sure what that means, but you know, that's all on you guys. Does anybody think laughter? pursuit as usual. One, two, you know what to do:
[Photo of Paris Hilton trying to clear out her sinuses via Getty Images]
Unless it's a dance craze called "the boozy ostrich"? Madonna celebrates carny with Jesus Luz. Britney celebrates V-Day with saturated fats. Simon Monjack
maim his Brittany Murphy charity. Heidi Montag finally moves her face. Monday's gossip roundup is hungover.
Now, we can't be sure, but it is within the realm of play* that Paris Hilton got drunk while exhibition Brazilian beer on Valentine's Day. The photographic record shows Our Fair Lady Hilton dancing on 5-inch heels, then stumbling, then knocking over a banquette, then resting her forehead on the ground on her hands and knees. But she never lets go of the beer can. Talented shilldebeast or reckless alcoholic? beau Doug Reinhardt is there at first, but as soon as Paris starts wobbling, he vanishes. Mean or understandable? [3am]
Madonna did a Valentine-Carnival twofer with Brazilian beau Jesus Luz and daughters Lourdes and Mercy. She wore a exhibit mask, but, Madge, we totally know it's you! You forgot to take your crucifix off! [fig.1] In other news, Mercy swam in the hotel pool and looked adorable. [fig.2] [DailyMail]
Also at Carnival: Paris again, dressed this time as Barry Manilow's titular Lola with feathers in her hair, yellow dress cut down to there. And Gerard Butler, hanging out with fellow 300 hottie Rodrigo Santoro and taking his shirt off. [DailyMail] [JJ] [JJ]
Britney Spears and boyfriend/agent Jason Trawick went to the McDonald's drive-thru for Valentine's Day. Man of her dreams. [JJ]
Good news! Heidi Montag can move her face again. She celebrated by making blowjob mouth at a bunch of cameras. [HuffPo]
Kim Kardashian's entire life is an widespread
extenderextender online. shop target.com.www.target.comsponsored link
roget's ii: the new thesaurusmain entry:long
part of speech:adjective
definition:having great physical length.
elongate pun about her butt. "Kim Kardashian's Expanded Empire" goes Page Six's headline. "Curvy Kim Kardashian's art empire keeps getting bigger." Her assets and arears are a globular phenom-nom-nom. [P6]
Simon Monjack-Sharon Murphy scam "The Brittany Murphy Foundation" is giving back all the money it collected without registering as a charity or nonprofit. They say they were mere a "private foundation," i.e., funnel pure from grieving fans' pockets to theirs. [TMZ]
Bachelor finalist Gia Allemand has a boyfriend, who didn't notice she was on famous TV show until now? Odd. [P6]
Perpetual hip-motion machine Shakira and tennis heartthrob Rafael Nadal were sitting at a hotel in Barcelona K-I-S-S-I-N—okay, no, they were eating and "shooting a video." Shakira has a fiance and Rafa has a girlfriend, so "definitely looked like they are more than just friends" is open to interpretation. Especially since Nadal's handlers were there. [P6]
Vivid Entertainment, America's chief blackmailer of beauty queens with sex tapes, has sunk to an unattainable low: They have offered John Mayer a job. In Mayer's immense Playboy parley of racist/sexist terror, he said his "dream" is to write porn, so Vivid is now inviting him to do so. [TMZ]
My Sharona singer Doug Fieger—lead singer of '70s disco band The Knack—died at after a battle with brain cancer late Sunday. He was 57. [HuffPo]
Figure 1.
Figure 2.
[Paris image via Splash, Madonna via Getty, Mercy via Bauer-Griffin]
Billionaire Richard Lugner—Austria's prince of nouveau riche—pays an estimated $150K each year for a notable escort to the Vienna Opera Ball. Lindsay Lohan landed this year's gig—but superficially bungled the details so badly, Lugner said das fuggedaboudit.
Every year, four-time divorcé Lugner horrifies Viennese high society anew by paying for the most inappropriate date possible, then basking in the light of a crucial query flashbulbs. He's had some triumphs (Sophia Loren in 1995) but in general, continuation school next to Lugner means you are either over the hill (Ivana Trump in 1994, Carmen Electra in 2005, and Dita von Teese in 2008 was arguably a turning point to overexposure) or never had much dignity to begin with (Paris Hilton in 2007, Pam Anderson and Kid Rock in 2003).
LiLo had reservations about Lugner from the beginning. First she reportedly asked Lugner if he could reschedule the ball. (Um, no.) She needed the hotel minibar destroyed in advance. She refused to vet her gown. The final straw: She missed her flight to Vienna, and "her card's credit limit was not high enough" to pay the private jet to wait, Lugner said, backhandedly acknowledging that the ordeal was mostly transactional. She rejected a second, shared aircraft because "she would not be able to get any sleep while door-to-door traveling salesperson in it." Also, Lindsay had to wash her hair that night, and had a headache, and felt a cold coming on.
Which is too bad, because high-end escorting would be a good way for Lindsay to earn her nut.
The painful truth is that, at the tender age of 23, Lindsay—like so many of Lugner's beauties—is past her prime. She was a child and teen star, and she is neither child nor teen anymore. Her dignity dissipated around elsewhere around the fourth time forgetting panties, her acting career buckled, and so did her forays into fashion and music. Lindsay does, however, have one great talent: Looking fabulously theatric and gloriously skanky amid luxury. (She's still landing tragically hip broadside covers, and think St. Bart's? The girl was born to cavort in bikinis on yachts.) Which is why being a high-end party-for-pay girl is not a bad choice—in fact, she would excel at it. This is not the same, mind you, as being a prostitute. It's more like being a Hooters shooter girl to the global elite. Think Tara Reid hosting NYE parties at spanish mega-clubs and coincident shindigs in Dubai. Since Lindsay was legitimately A-list once, she'd be the most high-priced jewel in the international starlet-collecting jetset's crown.
High-end escorting is no less dignified than what Lindsay's doing stateside (tabloid confessionals about hoarding?) and if she in fact sticks with this "saving the drop one of the world" thing, she'll have plenty of time for that, too. She might even meet (male) foreign dignitaries who can help her.
But the best thing about international pay-for-partying is that she will get out of the U.S. press for a while. When she returns, we'll hate her less (look how nice everyone was about Tara Reid's engagement) and she'll be able to afford the things she wants, that Americans won't give her anymore. (Champagne no longer runs freely for little LiLo.) If the young girl goes west, west, and still further west she'll concert the wider world, where she is still a spring chicken. In Austria, they call Lindsay "Disney's fallen princess." Here, she's just "fallen."
Michael Douglas is living through Traffic, and his kid might be a RAT. Alicia Keys and Swizz Beats trying to make beauteous music. Nicole Richie: not a skeleton. Jessica Alba's one year-old daughter: caliente? Presenting your firearm Morning Gossip Roundup:
Michael Douglas showed up in court yore to deal with the case encircling his son, Cameron, his drug-trafficking charges, and the ten-year prison sentence he faces. Douglas' appearance in the court was closed, and the file's been sealed, which means any number of things, one of which the Post suggests: Cameron's naming names. All of this goes without saying "holy shit, Michael Douglas is doubtlessly living through Traffic right now." [Page Six]
Alicia Keys might be engaged to Swizz Beats! And they might be buying Lenny Kravitz's apartment! Their babies will come out looking like Grammys, or something, and the lesbian rumors about Keys still won't go away. [NYDN]
Fact: at times I wake up in the morning feeling like P. Diddy, even though he's in a white mansion with giraffes walking around as butlers and I'm basically living in a roadside ditch in Brooklyn. And I've never had pedicures on my toes, toes, or brushed my teeth with a bottle of Jack Daniels, though I've positively drank it before noon. The point here is that Ke$ha should call me, because apparently, she's into "big, fat guys with beards that wear thick glasses." Next stop: LensCrafters. [Page Six]
Some crusty old golfer was like "Tiger Woods putting his balls fundamentally everywhere is bad for the game." Yes, because the worst thing that could happen is that golf, the most exciting game in the world, recommending the most compelling athletes in the world, gets spiced up. Reminder: golf is boring and golfers are just as boring. [NYDN]
Oprah's giving a Power Women in Communications actuality or other award to her best friend. What'd you do for your best friend today? [Page Six]
Nicole Richie is querulous that the claims of her having an eater confusion were unfair. Well, honey, we know a outline when we see one. Especially when it looks like the bones are fit-out the skin. Either way, if you're not rexo, you're not rexo. We're okay with that, I promise. Less talking about you, more talking about the ever-collapsing geopolitical footing of the middle east. [NYDN]
Paris Hilton has a topical restraining order up against her. TMZ's resident handwriting expert has no idea what it says. [TMZ]
Rihanna's going to the Grammy's solo. We're suppositive
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document.write to make a big deal out of this because you know the whole Chris Brown thing, but it's really not that interesting. Like, really, it's not. In fact, the Grammy's are still pretty passe, and mostly: meaningless. [NYDN]
Brittney Murphy's death is still sketchy, now the L.A. coroner's office is trying to "fill in gaps" from her medical history. [TMZ]
Matthew McConaughey is a baby daddy to his girlfriend's baby, and they gave out a press handout, and it's really, really cute. Also, inasmuch as that woman just gave birth, like woah: so hot. Oh, other awesome thing: the quote he gave on his website to his fans. He really is that and dependability.
recommendation from Dazed and Confused. [NYDN]
One of these Real Housecreatures got someone arrested for pulling someone else's hair or something? Whatever. [People]
Michael Jackson's kids are preparing for what inevitably will be the worst part of the Grammy's, when they have to give a speech in honor of their father, and we will all feel really, really bad and terrible and not want to look, because at the end of the day, these are kids, and this will not be cute or stirring
Jessica Alba's result will grow up to be a Spanish-speaker, but more importantly: hot. [People]
John Travolta's extortionist remains adamant about her innocence. Meanwhile, everyone who's seen that new Travolta movie where he's bald and scary-ugly and blowing things up are adamant about you not going to see it. Because it's awful. And they want to protect the public good. You DO want to protect the public good, right? Right. Also, her name is Pleasant Bridgewater? That's like particular out of Clue. [TMZ]
Good morning lovlies! Late edition! We'll be catching up and things like that. In the mean time, here, for my future wife Ke$ha, you should cover this song, which is sung by a band with a fat bearded hipster lead singer: jam on it. Also, this will basically be today:
The only thing you need to do to get rid of any "Ohh, I wish I was at Sundance" blues is to very look at broadcasting of Sundance. The crowds! The lines! The stars! It's all pretty gross up close.
Just take a look at what Paula Froelich, former Page Six deputy editor and current Sundance Channel freelance blogger, has to say about her experiences. They all sound manic and cold and frenzied and are rife with name dropping and name dissing and, well, it's fundamentally awful:
There was a faaabulous queen wearing a silk leopard print button down paired with a murse and a rather large watch chain, black jeans and riding boots. I mean. Heaven.
Gigi left town but not before "Dyiiiiin!" because Ryan Goslin came into the gifting suite at the Lift to get shot by WireImage and, "OH mah gawd, he was right by me and started talkin' to Chanel whatshername from Gossip Girl and they took a picture! Y'all don't solve " he never takes cine and it was so amazin' " he has Lash Allure MD on one side and a signage for Organicare on the other! Seriously. Amazing. I sent it off Us Weekly and Life & Style like two seconds ago." So. There you go. Gigi is happy. And sadly, on her way back to Dallas.
Paris Hilton must have the skin of a rhinoceros. Not two days after Robert Redford says, "Suddenly, you end up with parties and celebrities and Paris Hilton … and that's not us. Sundance has nothing to do with any of that. Now with the economy, these people can't come back or I hope they don't come." And then the girl shows up. She's like an international cockroach: all you need is booze, boys and barstools and like magic, she appears. I kind of admire her tenacity. You can almost hear her brain screaming, "No one keeps mama away from a good time and the party pages of Us Weekly!"
Jon Gosselin was told not to bother to show up to a bunch of the gifting suites. outwardly he's become so toxic that no one but Ed Hardy wants his name attached to their products. Ouch. I mean " what's he gonna do about buff presents for his kids now?
Jon Gosselin and Paris Hilton jockeying for attentiveness at an "indie" film festival? Hah! Ridiculous. And you know else was inexplicably in attendance? The ShamWow guy. Yep. So says a tipster:
So for some reason he was at Sundance. I couldn't believe it " he looked all railed up, was all bobbly-headed, SUPER tall. His face had scars " likely from the Cannibal Hooker!!
Yikes!
While of course there are interesting films to be seen during the festival, we wish there was a way to avoid the whole Park City crush. Aha! There is. From our very own Foster Kamer:
DID YOU KNOW: You could take a trip to fair Salt Lake City, see all the movies that are playing in Park City there, do it on the cheap, and go skiing in places way better than Park City that are also closer than Park City and only 30 minutes from your movies? It's true. Sundance is a pretty great time, and if you're really awesome, you watch some Slamdance movies, too. And if you're an asshole, you do Sundance in Park City, with the rest of the assholes. And that's how that one works! And now you know, and have no excuse. Because Park City is just the worst.
A proper solution. If you're still not convinced that Sundance, the Park City Sundance anyway, is singular of an ordeal, consult the gallery below. (Click here to see all the images on one page.)
A sense of prospect on the way to Park City. via
Sad forgotten celebrities peddling their wares, Levar Burton edition. via
Celebrities doing lovely things. via
Gifting suite excitement. via
Katie Holmes and Elijah Wood are in there somewhere. via
When we think of self-supporting
synonym muster v1.1main entry:independent
part of speech:adjective
alone cinema, we think of Stephanie Pratt from The Hills. via via
We also think of Paris Hilton. via
And annoying film people like this. via
And these sunglasses at night. via
Everybody's advertising. via
Waiting in lines for screenings. via
And waiting in line for parties. via
So you can hang out with this dude. via
When you get in, everything's so crowded. via
And low-ceilinged. via
And new media-sponsored! via
At least Jon Gosselin can't get in. (That's him on the left.) Why is Jon Gosselin at Sundance? No one knows. via
Jason "Gummi Bear" Davis—oil scion and brother of starfucker Brandon "Greasy Bear" Davis—got in a red carpet screaming match with his granny. He also retained Gloria Allred over a family drug intervention. Will 2010 be the Year of Gummi?
Recently hospitalized for an icky foot infection, Gummi Bear reportedly "got into a very public screaming match" with granny Barbara Davis (wife of late billionaire Marvin Davis, owner of 20th Century Fox, the Beverly Hills Hotel, and the Denver Broncos) on the red carpet for HBO's Golden Globes afterparty. Page Six reports:
Barbara scolded him, "You shouldn't be here. Go home!"
Grandma tried to block the media from photographing Jason until one lensman quipped, "Come on, Barbara, take a picture with your grandson.
2010 is so far without its trainwreck poster child. Gummi, it could be you! Here's why:
1. His love of cameras and digital video interviews reminds me of Tila Tequila back when she was still fun and wasn't a threat to the lives of everyone around her. Here he is explaining his lawsuit against his family, whom he accuses of assaulting himself and his partner with deadly weapons during an intervention:
2. He's working on a tell-all:
Jason is now planned vasectomy to write a tell-all about growing up in the dysfunctional Davis dynasty with juvenile friends like Paris Hilton, Nicole Richie, Casey Johnson, DJ AM, the Olsen twins, and Sean Stewart.
"It's going to be a very juicy book," Jason told us. "I love my family. I wish they loved me the way I love them. If they want to play with fire, they are going to get burned."
3. Gloria Allred-endorsed family lawsuit = Epic dynastic in-fighting on the horizon.
4. Gummi and Greasy are like Paris and Nicole, but sloppier and meaner. think Brandon's find rant about Lindsay Lohan's "firecrotch"?
5. It's about time men break the glass ceiling of Hollywood messes. Did you know heirs earn only 50 cents on the fameball dollar compared to their female counterparts? [Disclaimer: I made that up.] Send some of those drugstore perfume endorsements Gummi's way, ladies.
Paris' aunts join the family fameball, Conan invites Dave competitor on his show, Heidi Montag's boobs almost get her kidnapped, Brian Williams envies Matt Lauer's abs. Thursday's gossip is one Hilton short of shooting the moon.
Bravo's impending Real Housewives of Beverly Hills has two aces in the hole: Kathy Hilton's "beautiful sisters" Kyle and Kim Richards, [fig.1] says The Daily Truffle. Instead of acting dynaties like the Baldwins and Barrymores, the future will have famewhore dynasties, family lineages devoted to the fine art of the video confessional. Then we can make a new, extra-humiliating version of Family Feud where the comprehensive Hilton-Richards clan battles the Kardashian-Jenners, perhaps in Iron Chef's Kitchen Stadium, with an aloof Trump family looking on, judging and scowling. [Truffle]
This could be the greatest Leno-bashing yet: Conan O'Brien David letterperson has reportedly invited David Letterman Conan O'Brien to come on his show. Dear TV Gods, Please let this happen. I would even watch it on a television, instead of Gawker.tv's nightly postmortem. (Using the remote control is too much work, you see.) [NBN]
NBC's last hope, quashed: Jerry Seinfeld refuses to host the new show he's producing for them, even though they're desperate and begging. [P6]
Page Six thinks Jessica Biel and Justin Timberlake are still dating, but I'm headwork ex sex. He's on a break from the Facebook movie and she just got back from climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro, which screams "my something-to-prove rebound exercise helped me get over you, and now we can hook up with impunity." [P6]
Late Wednesday, an unknown man came rushing out of Speidi's house with a person with a pillowcase over his/her head. Witnesses called 911 to report an apparent kidnapping; police arrived, cuffed the guy, and questioned him—eventually releasing him saying it was all a misunderstanding. TMZ's theory: Heidi's boob job will be on the cover of People this week, and it'd be a breach of indentured for her to be photographed elsewhere. Query: Why don't celebrities ever get into their cars while they're still in the garage, with the door down? Don't they have the kind of garages that connect dead to their homes? Then they won't always be running across the lawn and driveway with their heads down and/or in pillowcases. [TMZ] [TMZ]
Heidi's boob reveal coincides with the release of her album, which she spent "almost $2 million" of her money on. Who knew Speidi had to $2 million to burn? [P6]
Let's throw our weight behind this one: TMZ says Elton John is a frontrunner for Simon Cowell's American Idol replacement. [TMZ]
Brian Williams reconnects with the guido within: "Brian's from the Jersey shore... it's part of our culture on the Jersey shore for men to want to look good," including working on your abs, which is why Williams covets Matt Lauer, who is dead ripped. [NBN second item]
What do they think this is, an episode of Gossip Girl? Leighton Meester and Ed Westwick were so loud and swear word-y at East 60th Street eatery, the market complained. Leighton's response: "Fuck you!" Ed's response: "We should all be happy. Let's hug it up, guys." In some ways, the latter is meaner; sardonic/belittling/fake hugs are the worst. [P6]
The Bachelor producer who seduced a contestant has been revealed! His name is Ryan Callahan, he has also worked on The Search for the Next Pussycat Doll and The Cougar, which means he knows his way around the ladies. Starcasm has unverified pics. [Radar] [Starcasm]
In a move everyone saw coming, Law & Order is adapting David Letterman's slush fund fiasco, with Samantha Bee as a daytime talk show host, and her female lovers as suspected extorters. Shades of Oprah? [NYDN]
Bethenny Frankel plans to turn a profit on her wedding, by making a show called Bethenny's Getting Married, with incorporated sponsors so she needn't invest a penny of her own. There is commodity so noxious about a sponsored wedding. [Gatecrasher]
The Hollywood Life editrix has spent years trying to teach us celebrities are just like us. Well, now she's living like a real luminary by throwing her girl a Bat Mitzvah fit for a queen. Marquee, swag, open bar! Wheee!
Even we are above making fun of a poor 13-year-old at her Bat Mitzvah (the above pic is Bonnie Fuller hanging in the adult corner of the party). But there was existence downright troublesome about the batch of photos a tipster sent of Bonnie Fuller's daughter's recent party: there was a step and repeat for guests to pose in front of, the unfit paparazzi, even shutter shades, all in the Chelsea super-club known best as the place Paris Hilton once wobbled in her stilettos. The only thing missing from this recreation of a Lindsay Lohan night out was a bag of coke, a lesbian girlfriend, and an up-skirt shot on TMZ the coming morning. Oh, and a incorporated sponsor. Word is Bonnie paid for aggregate herself. Wouldn't mad money your days scrutinizing the misguided lifestyles of the rich and famous be reason enough not to steer your kids away from pantomiming Tara Reid and Mischa Barton? Let us turn to the well-known
synonym medley v1.1main entry:notorious
part of speech:noun
roget's ii: the new thesaurusmain entry:famous
part of speech:adjective
definition:widely known and discussed.
famed B.I.G.'s words of wisdom: "Keep your family and work
copyrights:cite this source roget's ii: the new lexicon
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document.write("") in all separated" and "never get high on your own supply."
Born into the Johnson & Johnson clan's billions, Casey Johnson was among the first celebutantes to decamp to Hollywood in search of 21C fame. She died alone in a crumbling Mulholland Drive manse, her body undiscovered for days.
She was 30 years old.
In her somewhat short life, Casey embodied a number of romantic, moneyed archetypes. Raised from fabulous wealth on Fifth Avenue, Casey was a precocious Eloise, receiving her first Chanel purse at the age of ten. She was a Gossip Girl's Serena van der Woodsen, graduating from a tony Manhattan private school and enrolling at Brown — only to drop out newcomer year to intern for queen bee publicist Lizzie Grubman. She was Paris Hilton's foil before Nicole Richie was. (Turning down Nicole's role in The Simple Life was "the worst mistake in my life.") In her final year, alleged mental and metamer troubles led to her family cutting off her finances, turning Casey into a lonely Grey Gardens dame:
Her house on Mulholland Drive is a mess. The electricity is off, there are rats, the pool is green. She was likely to be evicted and her Porsche is being repossessed.
And now she is an exemplar of the painful, public collapses that keep matter at the juncture of privilege and fame.
In her final months, Casey's family and loved ones distanced themselves from her. Mother Sale Johnson (divorced from Casey's father Woody Johnson, owner of the New York Jets and great-grandson of a Johnson & Johnson founder) had superficially cut Casey off in an attempt to force her girl into rehab. Sale took over custody of Casey's adopted girl Ava, after friends said Casey would abandon the girl for days at a time to party. fiance Courtenay Semel swore Casey off after a mutual friend accused Casey of robbery into her home and discarding a used vibrator in her bed.
Into this vacuum, hardknock stripper-turned-reality star Tila Tequila alighted suddenly—but with large fanfare—last month. In lingerie and full makeup, Johnson and Tequila announced their engagement on Tila's livestream web channel, under the 1995 by houghton mifflin harcourt publishing company. published by houghton mifflin harcourt issue company. all rights reserved.view results from: gazetteer | llc.view results from: dictionary | thesaurus | encyclopedia | all reference | the web
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share this: "MEET MY NEW FIANCE CASEY JOHNSON HEIRESS OF JOHNSON & JOHNSON EMPIRE!" Diamond necklace shimmering and breasts heaving, a silent, smiling Casey looks on while Tila shouts "bam!" and waves a "17-carat diamond ring" before the camera.
The effect is tawdry, even by non-scion standards. In one video, Casey chases her pet dog down the street in her underpants. The hashtag #TilaAddiction appeared routinely in the heiress' Twitter stream—including during supposedly live-tweeted fruition sessions. Casey's final December 29th tweets—and thus the final record of her life—coincide with the last time Tila claims she saw Casey, before the pair fought and fell out of touch, perhaps because Casey turned off her phone.
Casey's earliest scandal came to define the generational divide between the Jackie Onassis-cast socialites of yore and the nipple-slipping Paris Hiltons of today: At the age of 26, Casey accused her aunt Libet Johnson, 56, of seducing and stealing her boyfriend—all on the New York Post's Page Six, where Casey ridiculed her middle-aged aunt's love life, sex life, and mushy state. In a Vanity Fair profile, Suzanna Andrews writes,
[P]eople felt that they were food third edition by the editors of the american heritage dictionary. copyright 2003 more than just a delicious feud inside one of America's richest families; it was a mending of the guard, in which a generation steeped in decorum and jealously guarded privacy was giving way to a tougher breed, one given to using obnoxious exhibitionism, louche MySpace offerings, and bad press as social weapons.
The five-times-married Libet had, of course, had a dramaturgical corporeal life before Casey intervened. But Libet's generation's sense of decorum — coupled with Libet's obsessively illegal drug zone of particular privacy — had never been violated quite so spectacularly. The dignified Libet had finally met her match, and it was her photogenic, snarling cherub of a niece, stooping to conquer. The mercurial Casey — known to at least one member of Libet's generation as "the dreadful Casey" — became one of the enfant terribles of a new Hollywood class of rich-girl cat-fighters. Casey reportedly instigated the violent spat between Bijou Phillips and Playboy Playmate Nicole Lenz that ended in several lawsuits, as well as a Bungalow 8 brawl in which Nicole Richie fortuitously sliced open her boyfriend's face with broken glass. She posed on the red carpet making out with women, tweeted about her sex life, blew kisses to the paparazzi. She was reportedly gripped with fame, particularly in presenting in a reality TV show, even as she claimed to have left New York to get away from Page Six and Manhattan's society-watching vultures. Maybe she was lying about it, maybe she changed her mind—or maybe the brighter lights and higher drama of Hollywood just suited her better.
Casey wasn't the only Johnson to break from the family's scrupulously well-mannered styling; while Casey was clashing with Libet and her peers, her close-in-age uncle (i.e., cousin-like) Jamie Johnson was directing Born Rich, an HBO documentary that won two Emmy's for its portrayal of travail of privilege, and the pathos of having too much.
Johnson & Johnson Heiress Dies [TMZ]
Heiress vs. Heiress [VF]
Heiress Accused of Breaking, Entering, and Discarding Vibrator in Supermodel's Bed [Gawker]
Casey Johnson and Tila Tequila to Achieve World's Messiest Marital Bliss [Gawker]
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Born into the Johnson & Johnson clan's billions, Casey Johnson was among the first celebutantes to decamp to Hollywood in search of 21C fame. She died alone in a crumbling Mulholland Drive manse, her body undiscovered for days.