OMG!!! Like how cool am I? I went to Starbucks today too!! Britney, we’re like twins.

Call me.

That video says all there is to say about the whole Britney situation. Those two make a good team. Two girls of a feather!

I try really hard not to make fun of famous people (or regular people for that matter) for the way they look. Sometimes, it is what it is and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it. Unless you’ve intentionally gone and screwed yourself up, who am I to judge the way the good Lord made you.

And then there’s Rumer Willis, the eldest daughter of two really attractive celebrities, Demi Moore and Bruce Willis.

Rumer may be exquisite on the inside, a real saint of a gal and have the charisma of Bill Clinton, Bono, MLK, Jr. and John Lennon put together, but her face is some kind of DNA experiment gone wrong.

It’s like Bruce’s sperm and Demi’s ovaries were really pissed off at each other, decided to just throw caution to the wind, and put their worst foot forward. G*ddamn, her head is a real horror show.

Oh, and that hair color…Atrocious.

Whoever thought it would be good idea to put that yucky hair color on this young lass is a monster. A regular Mengele, Hitler and Stalin rolled into one.

In any case, Rumer has one thing going for her, self esteem. Rumer feels good about herself and holds her head high. Without the use of crane even. Good for you Rumer! Misshapen folks around the world have found themselves a hero.

So, the latest news is that on her recent foray to Quiznos, Brit did not need a tampon, maxipad, moist towelette, feminine deodorant spray, or emergency tasty toasted sub sammich. No, apparently all she wanted was an escort out of the bathroom. What’s wrong with that, I hear you asking? She was trapped in the bathroom, there were photographers and fans swarming the little sandwich shop, so what was wrong with asking for an escort?

What’s wrong with it was that Britney did not just fall off the celebrity truck yesterday. She knows that wherever she goes, chaos follows, and every time she pulls a stunt like this photographers go nuts. She went into that restaurant without bodyguard or friend to help control the crowds, and then is shocked to find herself trapped in the bathroom. Or…was she? She believes that she still knows how to control the situation and get her name in the press. It worked, didn’t it?

However, this does show a definite lack of regard both to her own personal safety and the safety of her children waiting in the car. If you watch the video, the crowd there very easily could have gotten out of control and the safety of both herself and her children could have been compromised. Stranger things have happened.

On this video, her fakey little attempts at being coy and flirty just make me want to lose last night’s dinner. “Awwww, you’re so cute! Stop!” -hairflip, hand on arm, great big smile- Seriously. She’s a woman in her mid-twenties, she should at least make an attempt to not sound like a ditzy teenager. Oh, and she should totally trust this random paparazzi guy who was lucky enough to be the first in the bathroom.

On one hand, fans and paps are totally swamping her, making it hard for anyone to even move. On the other hand, she knows this is going to happen any time she goes out. She thinks she is in the driver’s seat, but in reality she is just a passenger on this crazy train.

You know, I have rather large breasts, and you could not pay me enough money to put them in this….this. Well, you could, but you’d have to buy me dinner first. And we’re talking appetizer and dessert, pal. Even then, I’d have to renege on the deal, and do I really have to explain why?

Introducing the Faveo Freedom Bra. According to inventor Joanne Morgan, she had purchased a backless dress, and then could not find any foundation garments to go with it that would contain her larger-sized breasts, so she started thinking (always a bad sign):

“I tried the dress on at home. I didn’t want to take it back to the shop and so started to experiment with new ways to invent a bra. I had my Eureka moment after a couple of glasses of wine.

“I wanted to test it straight away so I cut up lots of pieces of clothing to create a prototype. I worked well into the night, but realized pretty quickly that even my own crude attempt was a comfortable and supportive backless, strapless bra.”

This mammarian bear trap is only available in the UK and Australia as of now, and it’ll put you back $50. But look at the thing! Look at the right one…you can see the breast tissue being squeezed totally out of shape, which is not good for the health of your breasts. It’s like a cock ring for breasts. They look like big zits ready to pop. You may as well go to the garage and get a couple of woodworking vices and tighten them down on your boobs. And what is the look we’re going for, here…shelves? Wear these to a party and you’ll always have somewhere to sit your drink.

I just asked the girls for a vote, and the result is in: 100% of my breasts say that hell would have to freeze over first. In fact, when I showed them this picture, they ran off crying and hid behind the couch. Now my shirts aren’t going to hang right the rest of the day.

Andy Warhol called.  Your fifteen minutes were up two years ago.  You can pick up your overpriced pink feathered pillows on your way out.

 I tried to think up something witty, couldn’t come up with anything….but I just had to use this picture.

So, for your viewing pleasure, here we see Bobby Trendy at the Us Magazine Hot Hollywood Party.

Okay, that’s all I got.  I’ll do better with the next one, promise.

We’ve been waiting for conclusive word on the whole “Oscar The Drag Queen” (sounds like a very special Sesame Street episode) controversy, and it seems we might never get to the bottom of it.

Fortunately, ETonline is on the case and has obtained high res versions of the alleged photos featuring boxing champ De La Hoya in racy outfits, appearing with an “adult entertainer.” ETonline contacted forensic photo expert, Jeff Sedlik, and here are his findings:

“Now that ET has provided me with access to high resolution images, I have been able to more carefully analyze the images,” says Sedlik. “In this instance, I can’t find any conclusive evidence that they have or have not been retouched, but if they were retouched, this was done by a skilled professional. Retouching and head swapping is a pervasive practice, in everything from car ads, to movie posters, and even in wedding photos. Photography these days is a house of mirrors. You can do anything. It is Alice in Wonderland, and we’re in the rabbit hole.”

ET is also promoting an exclusive “one and only” interview with the boxing champ set to air today on the show. Mr. De La Hoya has consistently denied the photos are real. It’s pretty doubtful he will change his tune. Deny, deny and deny some more I say.

So there you have it. We are no closer to finding the truth than we were, and I will not rest until we know for sure that Oscar De La Hoya enjoys the feel of silky garments gently caressing his most sensitive of regions. I mean really, can’t a grown man enjoy pretty, frilly things every once in a while. What’s the big deal?

In my opinion, the photos are real. The whole story smells of conspiracy. First of all, why would they pick Oscar De La Hoya out of all people? Second of all, the number of pics and the whole tone and situation seem right. Relatively famous guy likes company of strippers, enjoys dressing up and getting in touch with his feminine side. Has no one ever heard of J. Edgar Hoover?

Also, why did this woman come forward and then suddenly start to recant her story. Coverup much.

It doesn’t really matter, its not like Oscar can’t still punch me in the face. Pink undies or not.

It’s been so long since we had a fresh dose of the world’s dumbest celebutard, but lest ye think she has been curing cancer or solving the world’s energy crisis, rest assured, she hasn’t. In fact, Paris has been doing what Paris does best, selling her essence in the form of consumable goods — in this case more perfume.

This time, her eau de twatlett is called “Can-Can.” Probably because it’s good for clearing the air when you’ve stunk up the can. Seriously, who names a fragrance after something that’s also referred to as a toilet. I can hear it now….

Passerby: “Paris what is that smell?”

Paris: “Oh, you like that, it’s my new fragrance Can-Can”

Passerby: “Your new what?”

Paris: “My new fragrance, it’s called Can-Can. Do you like it?”

Passerby: “Well, if you were going for “truck-stop bathroom after an obese trucker just released his morning constitutional of huevos rancheros with extra jalapenos and cheese” yeah, I like it. It will always remind me of you. You and a hot porta-potty at Lollapalooza!”

Paris: “That’s hot!”

Paris claims to have been inspired by Moulin Rouge, which is appropriate because when I think of Paris, I think of garish strippers, tramps and trollops whoring it up in France. Sort of like the behind-the-scenes photo shoot featured above.

Also, what’s with Paris’ voice? Are her tranny hormones acting up, because she can’t seem to keep in character.

Source - The always in character Dlisted.

Natalie Portman is FINALLY NAKED!! Movie Stills, Dorks and more - Celebrity News Wire

Carrot Top is still really, really, REALLY disturbing.  Seriously man, put a shirt on - DListed

Gaseous emissions cause cause chaos in Germany. Tom Cruise still short, now infuriated - Mollygood

Ever wonder what Joe Simpson’s breath smells like?  Wonder no more - Holy Candy

Christina Aguilera still playing hide-n-seek with her fecundity - IDLYITW

SHOCKER!!! Lindsay Lohan steals other people’s coke - POTP

George Clooney’s lastest catch milking her 15 minutes  - Splash News Online

Barry Bond’s ball to be branded. Ooow! - Radar Online

Hollywood and marriage go together like garlic and cotton candy.  Ewww.

I was just saying yesterday that these pampered fruitcakes treat marriage with as much respect as a Michael Vick treats his dogs, or DMX for that matter. 

The latest casualty in the war on marriage is singer Pink and her husband Carey Hart, a professional motocross biker.  Us Magazine has the inside track:

Although the singer’s hubby of 21 months, motocross star Carey Hart, 32, told the Las Vegas Review-Journal in August that “everything’s fine” between the two of them, Us has learned that the couple’s itching to ditch their union. “We’re just not getting along anymore. We each need our space. We need our distance. It’s not like it was when we first started,” Pink, 28, was heard telling a tableful of friends on September 14 at West Hollywood hot spot Eleven.

Additionally, a pal of her husband’s told Us, “Carey is tired of her always accusing him of cheating, and he’s fed up with the constant arguing. He says he cannot deal with her anymore. It’s his decision to put an end to this. They are 100 percent getting a divorce.”

(Pink’s rep calls the report “complete bulls–t.”)

You know what, I care more about what Britney Spears had for lunch yesterday — Mexican food if you must know — than I do about Pink and her husband.  Don’t get me wrong, I like Pink’s music and as far as motocrossers go, Carey is coolio, but these two aren’t high on my list of magical duos.  But I DO give a crap that yet another “high profile” couple is sending a message to the world-at-large that marriage is a disposable piece of crap not worth the certificate it’s written on.

If these people treated their mates like they treat their fame, all of Hollywood would be a damn Paul Newman/Joanne Woodward fairy tale romance.  It’s all about me, me, me f*cking me.

*Blech*