:Hotlink Heaven

Is it just me or does it look like Nicole Richie put her head on backwards?

Month after month, we?ve brought you some of the biggest names in show biz and the most gorgeous girls on the planet. We pulled out all the stops to find a woman whose beauty is extraordinary enough to become the very first ?Savvy Girl?.

Photo thanks to Defamer via Variety.

At the ripe, tender age of 18, Spencer Scott is a mere babe in the woods. The goal of this model/actress is to become a Victoria?s Secret model before she?s 20, win an Emmy by the age of 25 and an Oscar by age 30. She is serious about forging a caree

Paula Abdul, the Karen Silkwood of California manicure hygiene reform, has proven herself to be a tough little cockroach. She emerged from scandalous accusations of a sexual tryst with a suspiciously cornrowed American Idol contestant largely unscathed. Her show is the undisputable top of the TV crapheap, asking, and getting, unprecendented numbers for a 30-second spot. And now, the sometimes-perky, sometimes-K-holed 43-year old differently-abled-clapper has something to really cheer about: 6'2" of marble-carved mancake!

Paula Abdul has a new man in her life: model Dante Spencer.

Spencer is 6'2", chiseled and at home on the dance floor – no wonder that from the second he met Abdul three months ago, his chances with the American Idol judge looked promising.

"We were salsa dancing in L.A. at a club called Mood on Hollywood Boulevard," says the 30-year-old model. "I saw her and went right up to her. Before I said one word, she turned around and said, 'Who are you?' And it's been great ever since."

...except for one small bump in the road three weeks into the affair, when she again turned to him and said, "Who are you?" But that was quickly cleared up with a few minutes of explanation and a call-in refill from Rite Aid.

But now that rumors have emerged that the couple might even be engaged (last item), we must ask the question: Who is this Dante? And will he be good to our 'so-much-love-to-give' Paula?

For answers, we need only turn to his 'model profile' in the International Male Catalog (aka "Beat-Off-Material-for-Closeted-Gay-Teens-If-You-Can-Get-Passed-the- Nausea-Inducing-Clothes-and-Who-Am-I-Kidding-of-Course-I-Can") website:

"AMBITIONS

The acting bug strikes again! Dante minored in Theater at the University of California at San Diego and is currently taking an acting class in LA, where he resides.

FAVORITE SPORTS
Basketball and baseball, sports he’s favored since his days on the UCSD team.

PETS
Not since Dante’s childhood experience with two pet water turtles. They died the same day he got them. “My mom said I didn’t give them enough love.”

GUILTY PLEASURES
Peanut butter and chocolate. Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups? “Yeah, they’re great.”"

RED FLAG RED FLAG.

Quote. AND I QUOTE:

“My mom said I didn’t give them enough love.”

We can only pray that once Dante is done getting his chocolate in Paula's peanut butter, she won't too suffer a double tortoisecide at his intimacy-shunning hands.

Madonna's latest album cover for her upcoming Confessions on a Dancefloor has been leaked -- less an album cover, actually, more of a Get Smart-esque K.A.O.S. plan to instantly turn anyone who looks at it into a gigantic neon Vegas billboard flashing "GAY! GAY! GAY!" (We're also reminded that the touring production of Annie hits the Pantages October 7th. ) But who needs my two cents on the subject! Let's hit the gay boards at Towleroad (yes that's two links in one day; Andy we love you) and see what the homo hordes think of it!

Confession: "I'm 47 years old."

Posted by: jaykayess | Sep 17, 2005 9:22:25 PM

I can't get over that tawdry Kabbalah bracelet. The crucifix was way sexier!

Posted by: borut | Sep 18, 2005 8:05:12 AM

Now we really know how she hurt her collarbone.

Posted by: Jason | Sep 18, 2005 11:02:19 AM

Her arm is saying, "stop...don't stop." Which is how I feel about her career.

Posted by: Scoop | Sep 18, 2005 11:57:53 AM

I'm sorry but the "f" in confessions looks like a Tampon string hanging out of her panties...

Posted by: MervynLeroy | Sep 18, 2005 7:50:51 PM

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Proving her thigh-spreading lust for B-minus level talent to be a bottomless cup-a-joe, Rebecca Romijn and Jerry O'Connell have decided to double their talent through the fuzzy math of a wedding engagement:

"Rebecca Romijn, whose screen credits include the “X-Men” films and “Rollerball,” is engaged to Jerry O’Connell.

The couple became engaged over the weekend in New York after dating for a year, Us Weekly magazine reported Tuesday. O’Connell’s publicist, Joy Fehily, confirmed those details to The Associated Press.

“We couldn’t be happier and are looking forward to the next chapter of our lives,” the couple said in a joint statement."

It remains unclear which chapter they were referring to:  X-Men 3 or Kangaroo Jack 2: G'Day U.S.A.!.

You know the drill: Connecticut suburbs, husband (lawyer), three kids (soccer, soccer, theater camp), satisfying part-time catering career, and totally miserable. You meet her in a Tastes of Morocco intensive cooking class. Her couscous is impossibly fluffy and moist. Tastes lead to compliments. Compliments to drinks. Drinks to kisses. Kisses to divorce and the start of a 14-year lesbiadventuromance. How do you keep the flame alive? How about gatecrashing the Emmy Awards Governor's Ball and charming some expertly curated-- and heart-cockle-warmingly good-natured-- television stars into posing for pictures? Something about this shot, featuring and taken by Entourage's Adrian Grenier, makes me love everyone involved, especially the one grinning like an insane woodchuck directly to Adrian's right. You go, girls!:

Via Towleroad. Click for more cuteness.

In post-morteming Emmy night and the ensuing whoop-de-dos, the LA Times examines the application of Nietzsche 101 to the very practical arena of basic cable career advancement; namely, willing yourself to A-list power. Can it be done? Anything is possible in Dreamtown, kids, where sound-bites sparkle like princess-cut diamonds anchored in settings of 18-karat self-delusion:

"Finally, television is king. At least, that's what Patricia Richardson of "The West Wing" was saying. She was standing on the red carpet outside the "Entertainment Tonight"/People magazine post-Emmy soiree and explaining matter-of-factly that "TV is better than movies. Look at shows like 'Six Feet Under' and 'West Wing,' and then look at all the dreck Hollywood is putting out."

That was the consensus at Emmy parties around town Sunday night, where celebrities sick of their status as show biz's second-class citizens (a theme even Emmy host Ellen DeGeneres riffed on during the broadcast) celebrated a blockbuster year for the small screen — and a lackluster year for the big one.

"More and more people get their information and entertainment from TV," said television icon Don Johnson, who has a new show, "Just Legal," on the WB. "Film has become a boutique business. The time has come when we're going to get all our entertainment in our home.""

While you suck on the bitter lozenge that is our inevitable communal fate of a nation of Pink Dot-dependent shut-ins mindmelding with 24-hr Nash Bridges reruns as our flesh literally melts into our couches, take heart-- there are those who refuse to resign themselves to a single destiny:

Not everyone was optimistic that TV will become the dominant form, however. "Everything's cyclical, it comes and goes," said Kelsey Grammer, looking tired.

Jesus!  I mean I've heard of not interfering in the name of journalistic objectivism, but this is ridiculous! Can someone give the Kelser a bump already! Frasier's flatlining over here.

Ooh! Chocolate walls!

Inside at the Mondrian Hotel, the dark, musky scent of chocolate all but wiped out perfumes and colognes, leading revelers by their noses to the Godiva room. Truffles were everywhere, hundreds of them, glued to the walls in circles and swirls like something out of "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory."

Can I say something? That sounds fucking disgusting.

Ooh! India!

There wasn't a chocolate room at the HBO party at the Pacific Design Center, but the Bollywood-themed celebration was by far the night's most elaborately designed. Veteran event designer Billy Butchkavitz flew to India to do research and returned with miniature temples, which he meticulously reproduced as life-size hangout areas spread throughout a palatial blue tent and outside. Waiters strode about dressed in white cotton Indian-style tunics, refreshing plates of samosas and vats of delicious mango and pistachio rice pudding.

I'm sure Billy Butchkavits didn't do all the work himself; he had a hand from his dependable assistants Sam Nelliestein and Doron Queenberg.

What to get the multimedia mogul who has everything? How about something quaint, old-fashioned, arguably obsolete?; I'm thinking Family Circus, I'm thinking fun, folded hats... I'm thinking the Los Angeles Times! The story, ironically enough, appeared in the Times' own weekend business section:

"Three well-known civic figures in Los Angeles said they had heard Geffen in recent weeks talking about how he would like to take control of The Times, owned by Tribune Co.

Geffen met with Tribune Chief Executive Dennis J. FitzSimons this summer to say he was interested in buying the paper.

"We had a meeting at his request, with no disclosed reason in advance," FitzSimons confirmed in a telephone interview. "At that point, he indicated his interest in the paper. And I told him it was not for sale.""

Way to hold the fort, FitzSimons! Never understimate the tenacity of someone who capitalizes a letter in the middle of their last name. The article then gets into the awkwardly murky territory of reporting the paper's own financial performance. It's akin to listening to your doctor talk to you about his own fight with cancer:

The national economy's slow recovery from recession has dragged down advertising sales at The Times, the biggest property in the Tribune empire. Total revenue at the Los Angeles paper peaked at $1.14 billion in 1999 at the height of the technology boom, but has since remained relatively flat, coming in at $1.07 billion last year, according to internal company documents...So why would Geffen, whose net worth is estimated by Forbes magazine at $4.4 billion, want to plunge into an industry that is struggling to maintain its footing as many readers shift to cable television and the Internet?

They offer several plausible theories -- expanding his empire, improving coverage through local ownership instead of the current Chicago-based Tribune ownership -- but one ballsy theory, provided by an anonymous 'businessman', tends to linger:

The businessman who spoke to Geffen said the music and movie mogul also talked of another motivation: correcting what he sees as the unfairness that the newspaper's news and editorial pages have demonstrated toward him and others.

Among Times articles that might have annoyed the entertainment mogul were a July editorial that called DreamWorks a failure and columns by California section columnist Steve Lopez that chastised Geffen for failing to open a public access way next to his home on Carbon Beach in Malibu. (The path opened this spring after a protracted fight with the California Coastal Commission.)

The entire venture could come down to very basic economics: $3 billion to kill Doonesbury.

Kate Moss has admitted to her employer, clothing giant H&M, that the Daily Mirror's scandalous reports and images of her using cocaine were accurate:

Moss, who is to model one of H&M's upcoming clothing lines, apologized for her drug use and promised in writing to abide by a company policy that models be "healthy, wholesome and sound," spokeswoman Liv Asarnoj said.

H&M decided to keep Moss on, Asarnoj told The Associated Press in a phone interview from the company's headquarters in Stockholm, Sweden.

"We strongly disapprove of her action," Asarnoj said Saturday. "We feel that this is very unfortunate."

Asarnoj said Moss had acknowledged the allegations of drug use were true. "That's why she was so regretful," Asarnoj said. "We are giving her a second chance."

She initially accepted the high profile gig at the enthusiastic promptings of boyfriend/ex-Libertines leadman/Grim Reaper-cocktease Peter Doherty, who mistakenly interpreted the company's name as shorthand for 'Heroine & Methampetamine,' his favorite sandwich fillings.

Attention screenwriters, movie development executives, studio heads, A-list actors and actresses, their agents and their ilk:

Seek no further.

The story you have been looking for has been found.

Action. Love. Death. Sorrow.

And a twist ending so ingenious and shocking, no one will ever see it coming.

What's more, the entire thing has been storyboarded out for you (until the twist ending, which will require you to read the comments after 'The End' and probably one of those quickly edited back-tracking montages a la A Beautiful Mind and Identity where you realize in 15 seconds everything you have just sat through is a lie.)

Ladies and Gentlemen, for your consideration:

Grief - Barn Swallows [via b3ta]

It's a tightrope walk, to be sure, feting the accomplishments of Hollywood's TV industry arrivistes as hundreds of thousands of Americans ponder the hugeness of their recent losses. There are few who can successfully come through this daring acrobatic feat, but Ellen DeGeneres most definitely is one, what with her likable and self-deprecating dry wit, not to mention a vivid insider knowledge of the massive-life-claiming tragedies her Emmy-hosting has directly caused. From today's LA Times:

"The first time she was asked to host the annual Emmy Awards show, it was just before 9/11. This year, it was before Hurricane Katrina.

"I'm going to think twice before I agree to host something again, I can tell you that," she said wryly in a recent interview."

In reminiscing about her triumphant hosting of the 2001 Emmys, the announcement of which earlier that year was the trigger signal for Al Qaeda cells across the country, the article quotes some of the comedian's best lines inspired by the terrorist attacks that were solely her fault:

"In her monologue, she told the audience that the terrorists "can't take away our creativity, our striving for excellence, our joy. Only network executives can do that." She went on to say that she was an ideal host "because, think about it: What would bug the Taliban more than seeing a gay woman in a suit surrounded by Jews?""

We won't know until Sunday night what kind of industry rib-poking Katrina jokes DeGeneres has in store -- something about NBC showing no noticeable ratings dips in the affected regions, no doubt --  but however she chooses to tackle the sensitive subject of the natural disaster she independently brought on, one thing is for certain: it will have that trademark DeGeneres class.

We weren't even going to touch this one, but it's getting interesting:

"Bridget Jones is untying the knot. Renee Zellweger, who played the lovelorn Brit in "Bridget Jones's Diary," and country music star Kenny Chesney will have their four-month-old marriage annulled, Chesney's publicist, Holly Gleason, and Zellweger's Los Angeles-based publicist Nanci Ryder, confirmed to The Associated Press on Thursday.

In court papers filed Wednesday, Zellweger listed "fraud" as the reason for the breakup but did not elaborate.

A phone call to her attorney was not immediately returned, nor was a call to Gleason later in the day regarding the fraud claim."

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Being neither a fan of Top 40 country music nor the School of Squintypouty Jeux de Theatre, I would hazard nary a guess as to what sort of "fraud" Renee is referring to. There are so many ways Kenny may have misrepresented himself in the sanctity of their blessed union of one man and one woman. Now let's just take a moment to mourn the ending of that union by staring at the accompanying photograph and wondering what the fraud may have been.

Gawker reports that an US Weekly staff writer has been arrested last night for soliciting a minor for sex on the internet. A press release from the States Attorney's office alleges that:

"McDarrah responded to a Craiglist ad offering “the freshest, youngest girls” available, corresponded with an undercover FBI agent he believed to be a 13-year-old girl, and agreed to meet with her last night, at which point he was arrested. He also allegedly offered to buy the “girl” CDs, clothes, and an iPod, and he allegedly told her he worked at Us Weekly."

A quick internet search on McDarrah reveals him to have been the resident gossip columnist at the Las Vegas Sun before defecting to US, as reported in this September 2004 item:

"Rumor of the week (but this one's true): We hear the other paper's gossip columnist is moving on but hasn't let management know yet. He's moving back east to join a national magazine, the same publication he's been freelancing for -- and promoting -- while bashing the "ethics" of that magazine's competitor. Apparently, he missed the J-school classes on full disclosure. Reached by telephone on Saturday, Matt Hufman, metro editor of the Las Vegas Sun, said he is not aware that Timothy McDarrah is leaving the paper. McDarrah did not return messages by deadline." 

By "competitor" we assume they are referring to People, but if we were to graph his ethical lapses, I'd say he should focus less on his serial dissing of Leah Rozen reviews and more on the current charges.

USA Today offers the definitive reportage of celebrity response to Hurricane Katrina, an exhaustive chonicling of the glittery altruism that ouch I think I have an underground zit forming on my forehead. Hey you know what I could really go for right now? One of those brownies with the cheesecake on top. I wonder what that hot dude with the yellow board shorts from my gym is up to right now. He's hot.

I'm sorry what were we talking about again? Oh right. In those moments of crisis when famous people pitch in, using their notoriety to heighten awareness, while simultaneously yeah... he's really hot but I don't think he notices me which could very well be his way of noticing me!

Oh fuck a duck. Let's just grin and bear this together shall we? It'll be over quickly enough.

• To those who question Hollywood's motives, [Sean] Penn says, "I'm a 45-year-old man with two kids, and I've had plenty of attention in my life. I don't need to dive into toxic waste for that." [INSERT JOKE ABOUT DADDY'S FAVORITE WEEKEND BACKYARD GAME:  MESSIANIC PHOTO-OP COMPLEX]

• Monday, Gloria Estefan, Andy Garcia and Jimmy Smits hit the Gulf area to take toys to kids who lost their belongings. "Toys are not a need people typically think of, but they've got all these kids who have absolutely nothing to do," says Estefan, who had corporate donations and also paid for playthings through her Gloria Estefan Foundation. [INSERT JOKE ABOUT PAUL RODRIGUEZ BEGGING TO COME ALONG DRESSED AS SANTINO CLAUS BUT HIS CAREER NOT HAVING ENOUGH 'LATIN HEAT' TO BE INCLUDED.]

• Filmmaker Kevin Smith is auctioning off dinner at his house and a role in his next film. [INSERT JOKE ABOUT JAY AND SILENT AUCTION STRIKING BACK.]

• Model Naomi Campbell, who had already planned to donate her runway fees, is teaming up with Linda Evangelista and Iman to close out Fashion Week in New York with a star-studded fundraiser Friday night [INSERT JOKE ABOUT SELLING ONE (1) ASSISTANT-BEATING TO THE HIGHEST BIDDER.]

See? Was that so bad?! I told you we'd make it through! And all joking aside, I think just reading about all this celebrity charity work really just makes you pause and take stock of yeah I'm definitely getting an underground zit.

Jason Reitman, son of director Ivan "Ghostbusters" Reitman, seems to have quite the hit on his hands with his feature debut, Thank You For Smoking, a movie so wicked-cool it set off a playground skerfuffle between Fox Searchlight and Paramount Classics. (Fox, with its preoccupation with "contracts" and "signatures" seems to have come out on top; in return, they must tell Classics they are sorry and promise to share the sandbox Tonka tractor.)

Two arthouse cred-heavy units of major studios battling out over your first film? Must be quite a confidence booster! And yet poor Jason finds himself traveling that long, dark journey of the soul where so many other Hollywood celebuspawn have tread before, wondering out loud if his work will forever be tainted with the faint, foul aroma of nepotism. His conclusion? Yes, it will! And he doesn't care!

His filmmaking lineage also has made Reitman uneasy over the publicity he draws compared to other young filmmakers.

"I certainly get an undue amount of attention because of my dad, and I was embarrassed about that," Reitman said. "I felt shame about that at one point. And then one day, I realized: You know what? It is what it is. I'm my father's son.

I love that! "You know what? It is what it is" is my new mantra! I fucked your boyfriend and gave him chlamidia?

You know what? It is what it is.

Fear not, young Jason. It's not like your billionaire computer tycoon father financed the production and by some miraculously serendipitous coincidence you just happened to land one of the film's leads. You weren't ever related to the billionaire computer tycoon who funded Smoking! (I think.)

PayPal founder David O. Sacks was just entering the film business with proceeds from the sale of his company to eBay and stepped in to secure the rights and produce "Thank You for Smoking."

What went unreported was that the entire production came terrifyingly close to falling apart completely, when at a crucial financing stage Mr. Sacks forgot his user password. Luckily, he did remember his mother's maiden name, ensuring the film would see the light of festival screens and ensuring Reitman's destiny as heir to his father's cinematic comedy throne.

CONGRATULATIONS are in order!

German supermodel Heidi Klum has given birth to a healthy baby boy, a German tabloid reported Tuesday.

The child is the first for Klum and her husband, Grammy-winning singer Seal.

We wish Henry Günther Ademola Dashtu Samuel (see If They Mated- inspired predictive artist's rendering, left) a very happy life. And remember, little Henry Günther: You're either een. Or you're out. Since you've chosen to come out, you're never gonna survive. Unless you get a little. Crazy.

In what is sure to become a classic case study in medical ethics textbooks for years to come, genetic-mutations/tween-heroes the Olsen Twins have birthed a male bi-pod through clonic manipulation and good old fashioned showbiz know-how:

Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen want to make Cole and Dylan Sprouse the male versions of their teenage girl merchandising empire, The Wall Street Journal reported.

"My sister and I started the whole 'tween empire," Ashley Olsen was quoted as saying. "I definitely see the potential for the boys to do that sort of thing."

With the brand name of D.C. Sprouse, Cole and Dylan will be the face of a boys division that will include DVD movies, CDs and other merchandise for the Olsens' Dualstar Entertainment Group, the newspaper reported Monday.

"They love to Rollerblade, they like to surf, skate and are into videogames. … They love animals," said the Sprouses' manager, Josh Werkman. "They're boy boys in every sense of the term."

It would appear the programming inputs at the base of their skulls have downloaded the necessary marketing components successfully; now all that's left is for the boy-unit to be detached from its anal-feeding tube, re-coated in antibacterial skin-substance and set in front of digital cameras for their first full-length DVD adventure, D.C. Sprouse's Skidazzler Weekend!

Thanks, Variety! I really didn't need that Maple Oat Scone anyway.

That's a purple-besequined Liza and Showtime president Bob Greenblatt in the throws of a very PDGIA (Public Display of Gay Icon Affection) at the Toronto Film Festival.

They were there to pimp Showtime's restoration of the Emmy-award winning Bob Fosse-directed classic TV special, Liza With a Z, which will air on the network later this Fall. Interestingly enough, after film restorers removed 33 years worth of accumulated dust and dirt from the original negative, they were shocked to discover that the title was actually "Liza With A Zsa Zsa," though the goulash-loving husband collector's performance is widely believed to have been left on the cutting room floor.

Dave Chapelle's 'Nervous Breakdown' World Tour (save the souvenir shirts with the list of dates on the back -- those'll be hipster heaven in a decade or so) made a pitstop in Cincinnati recently, where Dave played to a more manageable bite-sized crowd of 325, and shared some barely comprehensible mumblings with the Cincinnati Enquirer. Some highlights from the article:

On returning to small club standup:

• "It's like I'm hanging out with a bunch of people."
• "Most people don't know what it's like to stand up there and speak their mind. I have a venue to do that. I get paid to do that. It's not like I'm doing heavy lifting up there. It's not like I'm solving the world's problems."
• "I like that particular kind of attention. People don't know what it's like standing up there onstage, when you have a wall of people smiling at you."

On reports of his breakdown:

• "It was a little weird. It felt like some of the stuff was real tabloid, like raw speculation."

• "It was like stuff I would normally buy and believe. I just took it as a learning experience. It was like becoming a public person and learning all the responsibility that comes with that."

On what's next:

• "Wow. … That's a good question. … Is `I don't know' an acceptable answer?"

Of course it is, Dave! There are no wrong answers! And you're right: I have no idea what its like to stand on a stage speaking my mind and hanging out with a wall of smiling people. Now why don't you show me what the bad Basic Cable Network did to you with these anatomically correct dolls and finger paints...

Today was the premiere of Martha, and her very first guest was Marcia Cross, whose Desperate Housewives character Bree Van de Kamp is largely thought to be a Martha sendup. But what everyone is talking about is Martha's miraculous T-Shirt folding technique:

She wowed Cross, and surely viewers, with a technique for folding T-shirts. As simple as can be (though impossible to put into words), it could have been the most edifying 60 seconds of TV in ages.

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I missed the show (some days I really resent the fact that God didn't make me a stay-at-home mom), but luckily her website offers a handy visual guide. Click to enlarge, and pay particular attention to the crucial Step (5):