Hello, dollink. Can’t talk long. Something about the Battle of The Bay. They’ve already looted London Drugs and Holt Renfrew. No, I don’t know why, Holt’s doesn’t even carry Axe body spray!
In any case, never let it be said I left you without your gossip links in a time of crisis. So read and enjoy and tie a yellow ribbon dress around the old oak tree.
Hello? Goodbye?
You say yes, I say no. You say Sandra and I say Oh.
You say Di Caprio and I say Leo, Leo, Leo, hello I don’t know why you say goodbye…
Except that I think that’s quite enough of that and George and Ringo concur.
So, luv, how is everything at your Mum’s house? Enough coal in the scuttle? Sardines in the tin? Good, good. Oh, nothing. Me and the band are still on the road, you know how it is. Can’t wait to be back Merseyside. I seem to have picked up this Asian fangirl stalker; she says she’s an artist. I dunno, luv, she doesn’t seem dangerous…
[at which point the phone went dead. the following is a transcript from the John Lennon Artificial Intelligence Project]
You want me to bring bail? Again? And what else? Booze. Performing poodles. Celebrities. And particularly Paris Hilton. Ah. I see.
I. See.
Look, darling, I’ve been meaning to say this for some time. I’m cutting you loose, sweetheart. Paying your bail is just throwing good money after bad, and as for performing poodles, well, I saw your last armpiece. Why don’t you give her a call? It shouldn’t cost you more than $25 for a full hour, or her flier is lying.
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It’s gossip time!
Hello, darlinks! Suddenly, yes, I AM feeling lucky! But my good luck means your bad luck, because it means that I’m suddenly (apparently) so mojo-licious that I can’t blog in pubs anymore, because I get interrupted too much, which leads to your gossip links being a day late. Do you forgive me?
Hello darlings. What’s that? You’ve missed me? Oh: You haven’t missed me. And you want me to get with the putting out for you, starting here and now. Okay, sure. I love it when you get all macho on me. And just look at that bitch Bacall, sitting there seething with jealousy. Continue reading
Carole Lombard LOVES Twitter
Yeah, baby! I’ve never been retweeted by William Powell, but I bet it would feel JUST! LIKE! THAT! And on that note, I’m off to watch My Man Godfrey again.
Guess who’s pregnant? EVERYBODY! No, seriously. All the celebrity ladies have signs “ESTOY OCUPADO” over their middles in Hollywood (shoutout to Michael K). Here’s are some of the pregnant celebrity ladies roaming the streets of Los Angeles (Sorry men, you don’t warrant your own post as the sperm donors).
Did you miss me? Sorry to miss you on Wednesday, but I was down with a bout of food poisoning. That’ll teach ME to eat things that haven’t been deep-fried.
No, seriously, nothing can live through deep-frying. FACT. If you eat only deep-fried foods, you will not die of food poisoning, I promise. You will, however, need a larger coffin than if you eat only salads.
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Hello Darlinks! This is my first post for Crasstalk, so expect some chaos (well, even more than normal for me, and “normal” chaos for me is like “background radiation” at Fukushima lately, so fasten your seat belts; I’ve been banned by Gawker Media six times {twice in one day: what do I win?} so I give it a week before someone here is slamming the door on my ass and NO I AM NOT DEFENSIVE SO STOP SAYING THAT).
Where was I? Oh, right, about to dish up some celebrity links. Now, there are those of you who may know one or two things about me, starting with “Self-referential.” You ain’t seen nothin’ yet! Because three times a week I get paid to do celebrity gossip roundups and I stick four of my own blogs right at the top of the links. Crasstalk is going to go in there too, in a couple of days. The rest are chosen on the basis of being either really amusing, really revealing, or fitting into an arbitrarily-chosen theme really, really well. Sometimes I make them all rhyme. Sometimes they’re all death-related. Sometimes it’s Stories Whose Headlines Can Be Contorted To Form Dirty Words When Read From Top To Bottom or whatever. But sometimes (it must be admitted, even by me) that it’s just the Top 15 or so Easy To Describe Stories From The Blogs I Like Best Right Now.
So now, having set the bar impossibly high, lowered it to the ground, and put it back up somewhere in the middle (it’s Jenga, with celebrities!) I present your gossip (and self-serving) links for the day:
Tee Many Martoonis (ManoloFood)
Spa No Go? Oh. (raincoaster)
Marilyn Monroe conquers the world! (Ayyyy)
Is this how the Spears family started? (Lolebrity)
Tom Cruise sees red (AgentBedhead)
And it turns out he’s not even related to Viggo! (BusyBeeBlogger)
Evan Rachel Wood lives up to his name (CelebDirtyLaundry)
Vanessa Hudgens in tampon chain fashion tragedy (CelebritySmack)
And then Trump asked for its birth certificate (CelebVIPLounge)
Joey Ramone lives on. On white trash (CityRag)
NPH has double trouble (DailyStab)
How many celebutards does it take to dance on the head of a mushroom? (DippedInCream)
Oh, Aniston, it’s SO mutual (EarSucker)
Mike Tyson is serious about this yoga thing, too (FitFabCeleb)
Elizabeth Hurley will never age. STOP IT ALREADY, BITCH! (GirlsTalkinSmack)
Let me get this straight…If you sleep under Miley Cyrus’ armpits, you will never have nightmares? (HaveUHeard)
JSimp wigs out (HollywoodHiccups)
Shack up with Glee! (INeedMyFix)
Royal Wedding rehearsal shocker! (MathewGuiver)
Nicki Minaj drops the dildo for Britney (PoorBritney)
Fergie drops the “D-List Bomb” on the TSA (PopBytes)
Huh? Seriously? Kirstie Alley was onstage at the same time? (Swoonworthy)
Miley Cyrus appears to have a shin cellulite problem??? (TheSkinny)
Selah.
This has been an ugly, scary week in the real world. Let’s avoid thinking about it all for a few minutes by looking at ugly, scary people.
