I am sure we are all excruciatingly tired of hearing more bad news about the fallen popstar Britney Spears, but I don’t create the news,  I merely present it in all its chubby, fast-food-gobbling, absent-parenting and poorly-executed fashion goodness.

The NE comes through once again with a story illustrating Britney’s refined and high faluten valet tipping style. 

Apparently, while digging out her valet ticket at a Beverly Hills restaurant, Ms. Spears, mother of two, dropped a piggy bank’s worth of change out of her wallet.  Showing her unflappable style of all class and sass, Spears paid the parking fee to the attendant and nonchalantly suggested he could retrieve his tip off the ground, because according to Ms. Spears “I just don’t time to pick it up.”  

Then Spears chortled, as she peeled out of sight, hee-hawing “Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.”

Well, I may have made up that last part, but she’s still ranks number one on the skank-o-meter. 

There’s good news though, the valet scored a whopping five dollar tip.  Props!!!

 

Are those crazy-ass Scientologists and their moneygrubbing Xenu  about to claim another celebrity victim? 

The PR spin-science behind Scientology is to gently pave the way for new members by downplaying the crazy and desperately trying to legitimize the cult as a religion.  Now they are using Jennifer Lopez to do their dirty work.  JLo announced this week that her father is a Scientologist and has been for 20 years in a radio interview while in Miami.

“My dad has been a Scientologist for 20 years. It’s weird people want to paint it in a negative way,” stated Lopez. “I, myself, am Catholic. But it’s just sad that people would look at it (Scientology) in that way.”

Lopez’s rep, and possibly the biggest liar in the PR business, Leslie Sloane, said, “Jennifer is not a Scientologist, nor is she becoming a Scientologist?

Whatever, we all know homegirl from the block is trying to convince hubby Marc Anthony to ante up some of his cash and go in on a Level 1 Thetan’s training manual.  I heard that crap costs like $100K.  No way Marc Anthony is going for that silliness.  I bet he’s telling Jenny that money doesn’t grow on trees and he has better things to spend his cash on, like beauty treatments for his undead ass.

No sane person who loves their money would want to be a Scientologist.  Period.  Unless it’s in exchange for protection from scandal and some sweet movie deals. 

Just ask Victoria “Posh” Beckham.  Despite being double-teamed by the Wonderbread twins Tom and Katie Cruise, inside sources state that Posh is WAY too cheap to become a Scientologist.  This from a women whose husband just inked a $250 million dollar soccer deal with the LA Galaxy.   According to sources close to the couple, Victoria just isn’t going for it, despite spending an inordinate amount of time with the unofficial spokesfamily for the ridiculous cult.

The source said, “Tom spoke to David for hours about Scientology. He feels it could help to lift him out of the blues over his football career. But Victoria is having none of it. She can’t see the point of joining something like that where you have to donate money.”

I just gained about two ounces of respect for Posh for being practical.  That brings the total amount of respect to -40.  Don’t give up yet Vic, you’re catching up.

Guess what top celebrity blogger is getting news items, private photos and hot diggity dirt in exchange for pretending not to notice the biggest stories that just might feature similarly named whore types in a negative light?  Oh, and using said site to humiliate enemies of aforementioned namesakes is the standard MO.

 The first two don’t count, and it rhymes with Sparis Pilton.

It would be simplistic and unimaginative to call Paris Hilton a publicity whore. She really is so much more. And through her own weird and bizarre genius, she maintains a stranglehold on our collective psyche.Most adults over the age of 30 just don’t understand her, nor the power she wields over celebrity culture. But make no mistake: her demigod status is a collaborative effort driven by her, her handlers, the media and the public.

But wait, there’s more…

I am all about sticking up for one’s family members in times of trouble, but there should be some damn limits that even greedy, nasty golddiggers aren’t willing to go to.  Fiona Mills, sister to Paul McCartney’s soon to be ex, Heather Mills is wasting her time, pleading to the public  about the “safety” concerns for Heather, and ostensibly, the couple’s daughter Beatrice. 

Her claims that the tabloids are intentionally fabricating stories and creating the hysteria surrounding the divorce of the couple are irrelevant, and here’s why: Heather is indeed a golddigger seeking to profit from her divorce from the billionaire Beatle.

If she truly wanted the press to go away, then she would cheerfully settle for a modest, but fair payoff for the brief hell she subjected the elderly legend to.  Four years of suckitude with her ass is certainly worth about 4 million to shut up and go away.  I don’t care if he beat her with her own damn prosthetic limb, she’s a transparent, money-grubbing, opportunistic bitch.  And Paul isn’t even my favorite Beatle by a long shot, Heather Mills just sucks that much. 

UPDATE:  Even though Heather Mills is a golddigger who ain’t goin’ round no broke *eh eh* she might be on to something.  According to this story in the always fact-based National Enquirer, Sir Paul might have some real nasty tendencies.  It would seem Paul’s stepmother and stepsister had some not so nice things to say about the retired Beatle and how he treats his family, including his now-deceased and arthritic father. 

I still think it smells like BS, but everybody has a dirty secret to hide, don’t they!

SOHH reports that Disco D, noted for producing such “hits” as K-Fed’s “Popozao,” has committed suicide. As tempted as I am to ask “Who says that only the good die young?,” I don’t know much about Disco D. Perhaps Mr. D was, in fact, a good man. A good producer? That may be in the ear of the beholder.

Rest in peace, Mr. D.

In Lindsay Lohan Rehabs, Dirty Dealing, Tabloid Duplicity, BC’s Dawn Olsen reports:

Hardly a shock to anyone, tabloid darling and starlet-gone-to-seed Lindsay Lohan entered the Wonderland rehab facility on January 17 for her various addictions, which may include prescription painkillers, cocaine, and without question, alcohol.

There’s more, of course. So much more. Dawn seems to have “mommy issues” with regard to Lindsay, issues in general with Linday’s real mommy, and less-than-kind words for a certain competing blog we won’t mention (it rhymes with “Perez Hilton”).

Read it all.

D…from the heart of the suburban jungles of middle America, where the local Starbucks is the biggest hotspot, people cheat on their spouses, neglect their kids and talk about people behind their back. A lot like Hollywood, but with less anorexia, haute couture and STD’s. Personal quote: “I enjoy sharing gossip about celebrities, because due to certain legalities and various nameless complainers (you know who you are), I am no longer allowed to talk about my neighbors.”

k…What do you want? More? You just take and take and take, dontcha? You never think that maybe I want something too? Okay, fine, if you’re going to be that way about it. I live in the land of Hamburger Helper, posers at the mall, boxed macaroni and cheese, four wheel drives, and corn. Lots and lots of corn. There, you satisfied now? I hope so, because it’s going to be a long while before I do this again. Selfish.

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