You know, if you’re gonna be a stalker—especially stalking a Kennedy—you need the big bucks. And luckily for Taylor Swift, there are some folks who find her, um, for lack of a better word, “music” worth buying.
See, in a matter of minutes of the news breaking that Taylor was dating 18-year-old Conor Kennedy, there was all sorts of chatter that she’d be buying a house close to him so she could see him whenever she wanted.
And I mean, whenever.
Rumor had it that Taylor was close to buying a home that was practically across the street from the Kennedy compound, but then there was all sorts of weird back-tracking from her peeps—probably right after she crashed a Kennedy wedding and got all ii9nds of bad press for being all stalkery and shiz.
But now, none other than Ethel Kennedy—Conor’s grandmother—has let it slip that Taylor was buying the house next door: “I’m happy that we’ll be neighbors. I’m thrilled.”
Until Taylor shows up unannounced all the time, with her new red lips and kicky pony-tail. And until Conor graduates and realizes there are other, less crazy women out there who won’t ride this “romance” for all its worth and then turn it into a pseudo-hit album.
Taylor is, after all, quite fond of serial dating and then bashing ex-boyfriends in her music.
Tom and Katie. Yup, they’re still news, I guess.
We’re getting all kinds of stuff about the divorce settlement and how it all went down, and, well, best of all—so I’ll save it till the end—a glimpse of Tom Cruise’s actual email address handle.
But first….We all thought Katie served Tommy divorce papers while he was in Iceland filming something called Oblivion, but the fact is that Katie had him served while he was in NYC. It was done this way because Katie saw troubles in serving Tommy because his “full-time security team is with him twenty-four hours per day, seven days per week. He travels only on private planes and [when] he travels by car, it is a motorcade with multiple cars going at the same time to serve as decoys. Put simply, it is impracticable if not impossible to effect personal service upon his person.”
Who does he think he is? Decoy cars? Private landing strips?
Katie’s only solution was to FedEx the papers to Tom at their NYC home and also email them to his private email account. So, Tom’s whole blindsided mantra was a ruse, because he knew about the filing, and had already been served a full two days before he says he was “stunned.” But, while this is interesting in how much Tommy Cruise likes to control his image within the media, the most interesting part of the filing was the listing of Tom Cruise’s email address. Wait for it:
That is so Tom Cruise isn’t it? He still thinks he’s that kid dancing in his briefs from Risky Business.
According to Urban Dictionary, mack daddy is “a term used to describe a man with an unusual power over women, and is derived from the French and later Louisiana Creole patois term ‘maqereau,’ which means ‘pimp.’ Adding ‘daddy’ makes it mean ‘top pimp.’”
Oh man, what took Katie so long to leave. His email address says all anyone needs to know about Tommy. Imakdaddy.
And some more news on that odd marriage between fifty-something Doug Hutchison and his teen-something bride Courtney Stodden. It seems that while getting their reality TV show on—filming something called Couples Therapy—Hutchison, 52, and his wife Courtney, 18, weren’t allowed to spend the night together because Courtney was only 17 at the time and child labor laws forbade it.
Child labor laws kept the couple apart. Of course that isn’t the only crazy/sick part of their, um, relationship. On the show, “Dr.” Jenn asks why, since Courtney was legally a child, they didn’t wait until she was 21 to get together.
“I wasn’t thinking responsibly,” Doug said. “To be fair, I truly wasn’t thinking responsibly. I was thinking with my heart.”
Or someplace lower.
The height of creepy. I mean, to be told you can’t share a bed with your wife because of child labor laws?
Excuse me while I take a bath in bleach.
After fighting with her mama, and calling her a coke whore, and calling her daddy for help, and then making up with her mama and denying she was a coke whore, and bashing her daddy in the press, what’s a girl to do?
Go to a launch party for something called Mr. Pink’s Ginseng Drink in Beverly Hills.
This is Lindsay Lohan, all cracked out and, well, looking kinda wasted, with a new, really bad dye job, and a little extra something under her chin. And, of course, since we all want to know, Lindsay has come out and endorsed Mitt Romney for President; like I needed any more reasons to not vote Romney! And she also squealed about what actually went down with coke whore mama Dina in the limo, because, well, that’s all Lindsay’s got these days between traffic accidents and hotel room brawls.
Lindsay says she did “lend” Dina 40K for a coke buy, or mortgage payment, because Daddy Michael doesn’t pay child support. Now, that begs the question: why does Dina live in a house with a 40K mortgage payment and where did Lindsay get 40K when she can’t even pay her own hotel bills? Oh, yeah, she‘s a high-class—giggle break—call girl.
Lindsay also denied that Dina was “on” cocaine, saying, “I told my dad a really hurtful and untruthful lie about my mom. She was not on cocaine.” Which is Lohan speak for, My mom snorted my whole stash and I was pissed, but then she made it up to me by pimping me out to a Saudi Arabian oil man so, all’s well….
And Lindsay once again said she’s disgusted by her Daddy and is “done” with him. Until she gets in trouble again, this, by my watch, should be sometime this weekend.
Oh, and a PS: after her public endorsement of Mittsy, word came that Lohan is not even registered to vote.
And that brings us to Lohan 2.0™, AKA Amanda Bynes, who was out and about in La Grande Apple, holding shopping bags on her head while talking on the phone.
We’ve heard all sorts of stories about her drunk-driving, her crazy antics—talking to herself for two hours in a store dressing room, for example—but a new theory is floating around the interwebz
Some says Bynes might be faking her breakdown à la Joaquin Phoenix, with some folks saying she “has staged a lot of what has happened,” but most feel she is genuinely disturbed. But, adding to her multiple hit-and-runs, attending a spinning class just to use the mirrored wall to apply her make-up, and all that talking to herself in dressing rooms, it seems Lohan 2.0™ recently test drove a Porsche, despite the fact that she couldn’t drive a stick and doesn’t have a license, and then, when the owner demanded she stop stripping the gears in his car, she asked him to drive her around like a chauffeur, and stop in at the Home Depot for some "cleaning supplies".
Of course Amanda says she’s fine:
“There is no craziness,” Bynes, 26, tells that bastion of professional journalism, Star magazine. “There’s no story there. It’s all lies.”
One thing that is not a lie, though, is that Bynes was ordered to formally turn herself in to LA authorities to be booked for hit-and-run on October 21, but her lawyers have managed to get an extension granted, and she doesn’t need to return to LA until November.
Plenty of time for more conversations, and more odd behavior, and more publicity.
Maybe it is all a sham?
Well, well, well, more Original Recipe Lohan™. She’s back at the Chateau Marmont after being banned earlier this year for non-payment of a 46K bill! WTF?
Lohan was originally barred from the hotel after she didn’t pay her massive $46,000 bill—which she racked up buying cigarettes, mini-bar goodies and candles—and she claimed she thought the production company behind the sure-to-be craptastic Lifetime “movie” Liz & Dick was footing the tab.
Sources—and you know it’s Dina trying to scrape up some more dough for her “mortgage"—says Lohan, desperate to be allowed back in to the hotel, reached out and, um, maybe “touched”, Marmont owner, Andre Balazs, hoping for a return pass to the place where she goes most crazy.
And Balazs bought her story—after Lohan offered to pay her bill, which she did.
Funny, she could’a done that a couple of months back and spared me all the aggravation.
I loathe Kate Gosselin. Actually, I h8 K8.
So, it comes from a place of joy when I say that Gosselin, who, after the cancellation of her Whore My Children show, took on a “real” job at Coupon Cabin.
Until now. K8 got sacked. Coupon Cabin founder and CEO, Scott Kluth, even issued a statement in the space on their website that used to feature K8’s blog to say:
“A series of recent events have made it clear to me that Kate Gosselin and her contributions do not align with the authenticity which we set out to build almost a decade ago, and that Ms. Gosselin is simply not a good fit with the wonderful team and culture at Coupon Cabin.
It’s with this that I am writing to inform you of our decision to discontinue Ms. Gosselin’s feature blog on CouponCabin.com. Ms. Gosselin’s contributions garnered both positive attention and criticism, but as always, I respect and appreciate your candid opinions, which often encourage us not to lose sight of our mission — to help YOU save money.”
In other words, the entire staff at Coupon Cabin went to Kluth and said, “She goes, or we go.”
I like a little good news with my gossip, and, um, K8, Don’t let the door hit you where the good Lord split you!
Oh how the mighty have fallen.
Barbra Walters, former journalist who once interviewed everyone from Moses to Khadafy, from Idi Amin to Barbra Streisand, has been reduced to doing a sit-down with, ahem, Lindsay Lohan!
But, the best dish of all, is that Original Recipe™ only agreed to be grilled by Babs if Lifetime and the producers of the sure-to-be craptastic Liz Likes Dick, agreed to pay her overdue $46,000 bill at Chateau Marmont.
So, that’s how she did it!
“She had them over a barrel,” a source—Hey :::sniff::: Dina!—said. “She demanded that the hotel bill be cleared up.”
So, basically, to pay her bills, Lindsay has agreed to sit down with octogenarian Walters and basically sell-out her family and all their troubles, from arrests, Daddy and Daughter, to drug and drink troubles, Mama and Daughter, and fights, Mama and Daddy and Daughter, and every single iota of their dysfunction.
For a hotel bill!