So it was just a few short weeks ago that we learned that the father of supermodel Linda Evangelista's four-year-old son, Augustin, was Francois-Henri Pinault, who is also the father of his wife, Salma Hayek's four-year-old daughter, Valentina.
The story everyone is sticking to is that the day or so after Francois-Henri knocked up Salma, the two decided to "take a break" and to Francois-Henri, that meant heading over to Linda's place and knocking her up, too. Now Linda wants child support for her baby boy, and is suing Pinault for payments of $46,000.00 a month.
I mean, come on, being the child of a supermodel requires big dough. Couture rompers and designer shoes for the boy could be very expensive, In fact, according to those in the know, it "would probably be the largest support order in the history of the Family Court.”
But when you consider Evangelista once uttered the line, I "don't wake up for less than $10,000 a day" well, then $46,000 for a month is chicken feed.
Pinault has yet to pay one penny in child support for Augustin, though for his daughter, Valentina, he spends $50,000 a month on a $12 million LA estate he keeps in trust for the little girl. And Evangelista wants her little boy to have a mansion just like his half-sister.
The majority of the monthly sum Evangelista is requesting would cover the round-the-clock nannies, because she doesn't have time for all that, as well as drivers and nursemaids and cooks and governesses and people to keep the child busy while Mommy goes out.
But Pinault, whose family is worth an estimated $11.5 billion, is fighting the expenditures tooth and nail. Like the cost of Evangelista's team of armed drivers for $175,000 a year, and the $80,000 a year she needs for a nanny. [Note to self: check out nanny ads].
The judge looked at Evangelista's requests and instantly erased the part where she asked for $7,500 for monthly “vacation” expenses, but ultimately seemed sympathetic to the security and nanny costs, noting that these may simply be the normal costs for raising a child in Manhattan whose mama don't wake up for less than 10K.
“How many hours a week do you work?” the judge asked Evangelista.
“On days when I do not work, I am working on my image,” Evangelista answered. “I have to hit the gym. I have beauty appointments. I have to work toward my next job and maintaining my image, just like an athlete.”
Poor thing. Drivers. Nannies. Gyms. Hair stylists, Makeup people.
Oh the humanity.
Poor Jennifer Lopez.
First the breakup, and then the slew on interviews where she tells us all how horrible it was being married to Marc Anthony, and how she struggled to get out, and struggled to get a $20 million paycheck for judging American Idol.
In the string of “exclusive but not really” pieces, JLo's peeps run rampant with the Poor JLo speech, and paint her as an innocent victim of the cruel Marc Anthony.
Now, maybe he was cruel, and maybe he was controlling, but the last thing Jennifer Lopez ever seems to be is a victim. I mean, she snatched the cover of Vanity Fair a nanosecond after she and Marc split, except those cover stories are often months in the making. So, did poor Jen leave her horrid hubby last month, or just after the first of the year?
Next up, she'll be trolling her new piece of man candy, though people are speculating that it'll be an old piece of man candy, named Diddy, or Squiddy, or some such.
Poor Jen. My husband was mean so I went out and got a cover story and a raise and a new boyfriend because it was so hard on me, being married. Again.
Ad she's telling people that she wants for full custody of Max and Emme because Marc hasn’t even seen the kids since the split! But, um, maybe Marc hasn't seen his kids since the day the split was announced--not to be confused with the day of the actual split some months ago--because they’ve been traveling with J.Lo, to New York, to Europe where she was paid a cool million to sing at a rich guy's birthday party, and then to Miami where she's filming her next big flop movie, "What To Expect When You’re Expecting."
I'm expecting it to bomb.
House arrest just ended and you're already drunk in public.
it's nice to see things haven't changed.
More than a month ago, back when Lohan was under house arrest--and partying non-stop--she tested positive for alcohol during a court-ordered drug tests. She was forced to put down the vodka, strap on he Louboutins, and head back to court. She had some 'splaining to do.
But she got sent home with no more than a slap on the wrist because the judge said she was cool with Lohan guzzling vodka by the gallon, bathing with gin, and douching with tequila, but she had to stay away from crack and prescription meds. She could drink even though she's been in and out of rehab so often that the Betty Ford clinic now has a Lindsay Lohan Revolving Door.
And now she's free, and back to partying, and mending her broken friendship with Paris Hilton. Yes, people, Firecrotch and Cocaine Cooch are friends again.
And after a three-day-drink-a-thon at Paris' house, Lohan appeared drunk and stumbling, or stumbling and drunk, outside the Chateau Marmont. Spies, and by spies, I mean Paris, who isn't really any one's friend, unless you have coke to stuff in her snatch, say Lohan was back in vintage form at the celebrity hangout. Lohan ALLEGEDLY “looked wobbly, and on her way back to her table outside stumbled over again. The next time she got up, hotel security had to give her a hand.”
Naturally, Lohan’s rep, AKA MomWhore Dina, said, "As usual, a pack of lies from people with nothing better to do with their lives than make up stories about a famous person.”
Honey, they aren't making up stories about a famous person, they're making up stories about Lindsay Lohan.
And now, on to our male Lindsay Lohan, serial rehabber, Jonathan Rhys Meyers.
Rumors swirled at the beginning of summer that alcohol abuser Meyers was almost suicidal, between the drugs and the booze. It was back in June when police and paramedics were called to Meyer’s London home because, according to various sources, he had overdosed on pills.
But he was conscious when help arrived, and tried to refuse help, but was ultimately taken to a hospital where he ALLEGEDLY had his stomach pumped, and then was released. Some called it a “suicide attempt” but others say it was just another weekend for Meyers.
Now, however, comes new video of Meyers, wasted, and singing Bob Marley tunes in a pub. It seems that Meyers met a group of new friends, read: strangers, at the pub, where they all got hammered, and then he took the party to a private home, where someone videotaped Meyers drinking cans of cider and trying to sing “No Woman No Cry”.
This just weeks after the ALLEGED suicide attempt.
This is not good. He's on the Lindsay Lohan Plan, having been in and out of rehab FIVE times.
Sad to say, but I envision a scene like the one in Valley of the Dolls, when Neely O'Hara meets former movie idol, Tony Polar, at a sanitarium. Only this time, the scene is real, and it's Meyers and Lohan.
I'm not a fan of Miss Justin Timberlake. i think she's fond enough of herself for the both of us. And stories like this don't make me think of any more highly, though definitely more lowly, of the diva.
During a recent night out at The Boom Boom Room, a source--and by source I mean Britney Spears who was sitting under a table in the corner chewing her hair--said, “He was really in a terrible mood. He was awful to the staff, making unreasonable demands and acting like a total prince.”
And you'd have thought he would have been a total angel, given that the party was the premiere of his new smash hit....i kid.....movie, Friends With Benefits. However, the singer/actor/dancer/clothing designer/serial SNL host/asshat was in a rotten mood and complained about everything.
The champagne was flat. So was the second glass. Even after the waitress opened a brand new bottle in front of Miss Thang, she was not happy. In fact, he loudly announced that he would lower himself to drinking the champagne because he was “sick of dealing" with the waitress.
Understandably, everyone, from the bar staff, to his friends, and even his mama, was relieved when Miss T left the party, though many heard Miss Justin warning his driver that if he wasn’t parked right outside the front door, he would “lose his s***!”
Oh, honey, you've already lost it.