I don’t know how she does it, but Lindsay Lohan has crack-hustled her way out of the Betty Ford Center.
Now, she isn’t on the streets and endangering all of us with her wack driving, because she just switched up the BFC for Cliffside rehab in Malibu.
Yay! Beach parties and booze, and, possibly, more of her beloved Adderall.
What is irksome is that the rehab switcheroo is AOK with the courts. Seriously. Um, judge? Why not make her stick it out in one place and maybe actually get some real help rather than listening to her midnight sobs about no ADD meds and then letting her leave?
But they all say Betty Ford is better suited for a 30-day program, which Lohan has completed—then why put her there is the first place?—and she’d be better off completing the remainder of her 90-day sentence at a new place.
I thought rehab was where you went to get well, not where you went for a vacation until you got bored and then checked out and went somewhere else. This is part of her punishment, no? This is a criminal sentence, no?
Apparently not for Lindsay.
So, Matthew Morrison. The is-he-or-isn’t-he gay star of Glee. I remember when there were photos of him ALLEGEDLY kissing another man but he says there weren’t him and so …
That’s the most exciting thing about Matthew Morrison. See, he’s boring. Coma inducing boring. And he proves it himself by the things he says.
Matthew Morrison, on the last time he was nervous:
"I'm back in New York for a while, and I guess I'm nervous about the subway. I just want to make sure I still remember how to get around. I got lost yesterday, and it was nerve-racking trying to be the great New Yorker that I once was."
Wow. That shaved some much needed seconds off my life.
Matthew Morrison, on how he over-eats:
"Last night I broke down and got a Reese's and ate both cups. I try not to have too much sugar, but every now and then you just have to get nasty. That and Almond Joy are my go-tos."
Dear God! Both cups!!?! I think someone needs to see a shrink about all that binge eating.
Matthew Morrison, on getting angry at IKEA:
"Two days ago at IKEA in Brooklyn. I have a small apartment, and we are redoing it, and it's hard to find smaller furniture. We were shopping for a couch, and I was very short with people because no one was helping us. I didn't go off; I just got quiet. I never lose my cool."
So, he didn’t get angry, he got quiet. Now, if he would just stay that way.
Matthew Morris …. Yawn.
Poor Justine Bieber, he cannot have it all :::foot stomp pout::::.
While he might be ready to fly in space—let’s hope that comes true—and getting tattooed, and getting hit with another paternity suit, but one thing Little Miss JB cannot do?
Get into Lure nightclub in Hollywood.
It seems Justine tried to sneak into Lure during their Toxic Luau Beach Day party but was turned away at the door because he wasn’t old enough. Or was it tall enough? No, that’s at Disney where he can’t ride space Mountain because he doesn’t stand taller than Mickey’s outstretched arm.
A source—and you know it’s Selena Gomez—says, “Someone from Justin’s team had come earlier in the day and told the club that he would be showing up. The club told him they wouldn’t let him in because he’s not 21. Bieber came anyways and tried to sneak in through a back door.”
I will refrain from Justin Bieber getting in the back door; or even getting it in the back door.
See, just as his bodyguard was carrying him inside, rapper Game gave him a shout out from the stage and security saw him and then carried Justine and the bodyguard out the way they came.
I think the kid is still outside the door throwing a tantrum.
So, back to Lindsay, who continues to enthrall, even when she’s transferring rehabs.
Why, you might wonder, did she leave the Betty Ford Center? And what did they think of the cracktress?
Well, she was a raging diva bitch who refused to do anything that was asked of her, so the staff at the BFC couldn’t wait to see her leave; in fact, I bet it was the staff who suggested she get the eff outta there.
A source—Brooke Mueller, Charlie Sheen’s ex, from a room down the hall where she’s attempting her 27th rehab stay—says, “Lindsay skipped group therapy, she refused to go for several days [because ] she thought people were giving out information on her. That was her excuse.”
But skipping group therapy was just the start.
“She was making life hell for those around her every day. Lindsay was demanding her Adderall, which she was not given. But she kept demanding it and was highly disruptive.”
In fact, before a deal was struck to let Lindsay finish her 90 days in Malibu, rumor had it that Betty Ford was planning on kicking her skank ass to the curb.
It’s sad when your own doctors tell you they’ve had enough.
I expect Lindsay to skate through her remaining sixty days and then get arrested for drunk driving when she leaves Cliffside in August.
Now, onto to another diva bitch: Kanye West.
It seems Miss Kanye is fed up with being followed around by photographers, but, um, didn’t he think that would be an issue when he knocked up a woman who’s made a life of whoring herself out for publicity? Think much, Kanye? No, say nothing, I’m’a let you finish in a minute.
It seems Kanye—AKA Yeezus, or something—was walking around New York with his boys … read between the lines … when a photographer asked, from a distance because that bitch’ll swing on ya, “What’s good, Kanye?”
Kanye’s response: “DON’T ASK ME QUESTIONS, MAN!”
So the photographer said goodbye, but then made a fatal error; he wished Kanye a happy birthday.
Kanye’s response: “ SHUT UP! DON’T EVER TALK!”
Funny, that’s what I say to Kanye.
Ah, Paltrow. Still talking.
She was everywhere for a few months, being named the Most Beautiful and the Most Hated in the same week, and getting all kinds of press for Iron Man and for being such a Kanye-West-Justine-Bieber diva bitch at the Met Gala.
Then she shut up and all was right with the world.
And now, I guess because she’s as over herself as the rest of the world, she’s been warning friends and business associates not to participate in an upcoming Vanity Fair article about her.
Rumor has it that Paltrow was set to collaborate on a cover story, but declined when she realized no one likes her. But, then VF said they would do the story without her, which you know means it’s not gonna be nice, but it is gonna be good, and Paltrow began issuing directives to her minions friends.
Friends? I kid. Friend.
So, this is odd, but when you consider it’s Jessica Simpson, it kinda makes sense.
Christopher Hurst and Tracy Gregory of Louisiana have filed a lawsuit against Jessica Simpson, OK! Magazine and Getty Images for using a picture of their child without asking for their permission.
See? That’s Christopher and Tracy’s baby right there on the cover of OK! Magazine looking absolutely terrified, because he’s in fear she’s gonna smother him with Ranch dressing and eat him.
It all started when Jessica did a meet-and-greet at a Dillard’s in Louisiana in 2011, Christopher took his teenage daughter to meet her, and also brought along his infant son, also named Christopher. While in line, two people told Christopher that he should get a private picture of Jessica and his baby son, so when he reached the front of the line, Hurst put his son on the table in front of Jessica.
A photographer from Getty immediately started clicking away, and never asked for permission from Hurst, and then six months later Christopher saw the picture of Jessica Simpson and his baby on a cover of OK! Magazine.
Christopher and Tracy Hurst’s lawsuit claims the picture is made to look like that of Simpson and her baby, and that Simpson was paid $800,000 by a different celebrity magazine for the first pictures of her baby and Christopher and Tracy got bupkis, nada, zip, zero.
Now, Christopher and Tracy want $75,000 in damages because they believe Simpson was in on the scheme and “knew that she would appear on front of the magazine with [baby] Christopher in her arms and that she had financial motive through the publicity she received.”
To be fair, Simpson is not smart enough to come up with this plan on her own, but she had to have known—we hope—that the baby in the picture wasn’t her actual baby. Right?
More on Miss Kanye.
Remember last week when he made a two-second appearance at Baby Mama Kim Kash Kow Kardashian’s baby shower/TV special?
Yeah, he wasn’t happy about having to be there, but apparently, in a Kimye relationship what’s good for the Rapping Goose is good for the Gold-digger Gander.
Kanye recently celebrated his sweet 36th birthday at Miss Lily’s in NYC with Beyoncé, Jay-Z, Scott Disick, Jonathan Cheban, Nas, Aziz Ansari and David Blaine, but not on the guest list was one Kim Kardashian.
Now, you might say, Well, she’s 18 months pregnant and probably couldn’t fly, but then that doesn’t answer the question why Kanye didn’t have his widdle party in California since he was out there not attending the baby shower?
Plus, you know Kim would’a hauled her ass onto a plane, and paid for the two extra seats she’d need, to be able to get her picture taken with Beyoncé.
The time clock is ticking down on this relationship.
So, I ranted a bit on Thursday about adulterer and Twitter-aholic LeAnn Rimes and her publicity blitz for her new album Spitfire. She was all, This is my best work and It’s so personal and I wrote about being a cheater and Buy it! BUY IT!! Buy it!!!
Alas, no one did. Spitfire debuted at #36 and sold just 10,000 copies its first week.
Spitfire? More like Misfire.
And lastly, let’s end the weeks’ gossip with the Story of Sad, Vengeful Grandma, AKA Demi Moore.
Friends—these are friends?—are claiming fifty-year-old Demi is getting revenge on her thirty-five-year-old ex, Ashton Kutcher, by showing off his, um, shortcomings. His penis.
According to an insider—and it’s gotta be one of her girls, maybe the one whose boyfriend Mama stole—says Demi has some revealing images of Ashton’s willie on her phone that appear to show he’s a little short in that area.
Demi had previously been known to say that while Ashton was a great lover, he was a little handicapped in the size department. And, Demi isn’t the first ex to discuss Ashton’s manhood; back in 2003, the late Brittany Murphy went on a talk show and hinted that Ashton wasn’t well-hung and then apologized for the comment.
Or apologized for his lack of endowment.
This whole thing reminds me of something … oh yeah, a heartbroken high school girl whose football player boyfriend dumped her for another cheerleader and so she starts with the Small Dick Talk.
Except that Demi is decades out of high school.