Ayyyy!

Things I learnt about the Trump family dynamics from this photo:
(a) Ivanka can’t stand to face Melania and is of the view her enhanced (bigger! softer! downier!) bosom is way hotter than her stepmother’s, even during Melania’s lingerie modelling days
(b) Melania doesn’t care for what Ivanka thinks because she has “Blue Steel” and Barron Trump (aka the Keys to the Kingdom)
(c) Donald is just glad he won’t be around to see everyone fighting over his will.

Now I know why Angelina Jolie is so keen to keep adding to her brood.  The others are catching up fast, and soon she may have to compete with her peers for the same pool of adoptee talent. 

But for now, she still has the edge, so if someone like Mary-Louise Parker came up to her and said “Hi Angie, do you notice anything different about me?”, she can casually reply “Why yes Mary Louise what you have there is very cute but that last time I looked you aren’t Mia Farrow so I see your African tot and raise you one orphan formerly known as Pham Quang Sang and and one French private schooled Maddox. And if you want to start comparing biological children, I’ve got an ace called Shiloh hiding somewhere up my sleeve. So what’s it gonna be?”

Years from now we will be able to tell our grandkids that we lived through the “Chris Crocker experience”, and their sweet innocent eyes will either grow wide with wonder or they’ll just roll their jaded eyes and tell us it’s time for our meds again. His rise to superstardom might seem overly swift but there are deeper underlying forces at work here:

“I’m the key to world peace,” says Crocker, sporting a sleeveless black T-shirt with a hot pink silhouette of Marilyn Monroe. His blond bob is swept behind an ear and the eye liner is, as always, flawless.

It is easy to see what the tv producers see in him. He has the angry emotional chutzpah and expertly applied eyeliner of Avril Lavigne when she first burst on the scene, plus the trendy hair and media-savvy of Victoria Beckham. And he’s at that young nubile age where he can perform all the moves that his pop idol is presently incapable of doing.

Britney facing criminal charges (PerezHilton)

George Clooney in motorcycle accident (PopSugar)

Condi Rice’s crib (Metrocentric)

Britney fans’s nekkid protest, like, OMG! (Postcards)

Milla Jovovich’s baby bump (DailyStab)

Marcia, Marcia, MARCIA! (AgentBedhead)

Johnny Rotten tells junkie stars to clean up their acts (CelebritySmack!)

Dear Brangelina, plzplzplz adopt me kthxbai (I’mNotObsessed)

Sarah Michelle Gellar, miser? (HolyMoly)

James Blunt, miser, manslut? (Celebitchy)

Katherine Heigel to produce Lost and Found (BuzzSugar)

Brad Pitt, private dancer (Us)

Jim Carrey, the autism whisperer (HolyCandy)

Jennifer Lopez bringing the 70’s back (Hollywood Offender)

Kim Kardashian is Miss December (The Superficial)

Bennifer Garner-Affleck even fight nicely (People)

Amy Winehouse’s MOBOs moment explained (WOWreport)

As I reflected upon the past week of tabloid drama, mostly dominated by Britney’s mommy woes, I realised that I had almost overlooked the news that Jessica Simpson had won the weight war. Really, I had no idea she was even at battle, but I guess that’s how good she is at covert operations and secret plots.

Seen below is Jessica doing her victory parade, having vanquished some pounds around her cheeks, thighs and knees. Her paternally-lauded double Ds may have also suffered losses but there will inevitably be incidental casualties with any war. And if you don’t like the new and improved Jessica Simpson, then that means you didn’t support her weight war which probably makes you an un-American appeaser of body fat.

Miss Zhang, are you going to be ok? I must warn you that what you’re about to do is highly dangerous.

Please. I trained with the Beijing Dance Academy, where you need to break your back three times and permanently dislocate your shoulder before they let you graduate. Moonwalking down this red carpet in heels is going to be a piece of cake.

Manolo says, Oh No! Let’s Go, Crazy.

ScarJo is a total diva (DailyStab)

Paris is a lederhosen monkey (Agent Bedhead)

Prince is still the King of Fashion (Celebrity Smack!)

Jessica Simpson trashes the dress, drunk (I’m Not Obsessed)

America’s Next Hot Pornstar press conference (HolyCandy)

Saint Bob Geldof is Satan (CeleBitchy)

Rose McGowan knows Jennifer Grey’s pain (A Socialite’s Life)

Angie’s brood is a handful (Hollywood Offender)

Dan Rather’s lawsuit’s horoscope (Jossip)

Eartha Kitt’s still got it, still uses it effectively (Stereohyped)

Miss South Carolina Lauren Caitlin Upton and Donald Trump, together again for the first time (WorldNetDaily)

Courtney Love tore the dress off Kate Moss? (Hollywood Backwash)

Mary-Louise Parker’s new baby (EvilBeet)

Beyonce is back to black (GirlsTalkinSmack)

Happy Birthday Sophia Loren: older and hotter than us! (Mollygood)

After being named FHM’s “Sexiest Woman” for 2007 and Yahoo! Personals most desired female, and pretty much having the most googled thong-clad ass on the internet, where does one go from there?

If you’re Jessica Alba, you move on to building up a new fanbase.  While filming Good Luck Chuck with some African penguins. she was able to parlay her sexual allure to overcome her co-stars’ “spasticity” and social awkwardness:

“They’re lovely little animals and they don’t like everybody, but they liked me right away. I found a way to tickle them on their neck, which is how their handlers do it. Usually they are kind of spastic and stiff, but they would lay down and kind of purr when I did that. That’s when I knew they liked me.”

Sources on the set said she also won many penguin admirers with her impersonations of a succulent fish begging to be caught from a pond (as shown above).   What a doll! It’s only a matter of time before she tops the “Celebrity I’d Most Like To Be Monogamous With” list in Menguins magazine.

If you’ve ever wondered how the Garner-Afflecks of the world maintain marital harmony, then wonder no more. 

And here I was thinking that when push came to shove, they put on their corniest leather outfits and went at it with sai daggers and billy clubs.

…is there anything in this entire get-up that isn’t questionable?

I just don’t even know where to start.

Okay, how about that you’re not even 40 (How? How is that possible? I remember doing the Loco-motion when I young, back before I sold my soul for some day-old Buffalo wings and this neat-o fiberglass liver) and yet you seem to have gone a bit piscine about the mouth-ital region, meanwhile your eyebrows are trying to mosey off into the sunset that’s apparently found about four inches behind your natural hairline. That would be troublesome enough because, you know, that’s a lot of landscaping for someone in their 30’s.

But then we need to talk about the outfit. What exactly is going on here? It’s like you’re playing Second Flying Monkey in an all-singing, all-dancing new production of “The Wizard of Oz” as performed by the Upper Ottowa Motorcycle Seat and Glad Bag Recyclers Union, Local 303, and while I give much love to the UOMS&GBRU (303) I’m just not entirely sure that’s a look you’d be lucky (lucky lucky lucky) to recreate.