Lotsa talk swirling around the web-o-sphere that, after their current On The Run [from Marriage] tour, Beyoncé and Jay-Z just might be headed toward a “conscious uncoupling” a la Goopy Paltrow or a “tender undoing” a la Jewel.
A source — and it’s probably Dina Lohan since Lindsay is across the pond and has her phone unplugged — says Jay-Z has hired marriage counselors, plural, to travel with them on tour because, you know, on tour is the time to work on your marriage. And that same source says that after the tour Beyoncé will be taking all of Jay’s things out the house and dumping them on the street while she blasts “Single Lady” from the roof-tops. The source also says they stopped wearing their wedding rings a long time ago, and that Blue Ivy was a band-aid baby that didn’t take, and that it’s all over except ….
“They are trying to figure out a way to split without divorcing. This is a huge concert tour and they’ve already gotten most of the money from the promoters up front.”
Wow. Putting money before love. That’s love, in a Beyoncé/Jay Z world.
I was wrong last week when I said that Lindsay Lohan was at the Ischia Film Festival in Italy just to party and fall down, because it appears she went here for an altogether different reason: Lindsay won an award, y’all … no lie!.
Lohan was honored with the Ischia Comeback Award in acknowledgement of her role in the West End production of David Mamet’s play Speed-the-Plow and the award was given to her by Oscar-winning director Paul Haggis, whom she praised in her speech:
“Thank you, from someone so amazing as you are, and being a friend to me, and someone who I aspire to work with and that I’m lucky to have in life. So I appreciate that, I really do. … Thank you for having me. Thank you, Pasquale. Five years before this I was in Capri with you, and a lot has happened since then, which I know and you know. I really appreciate it. Thank you so much. … It’s really lovely to be in a position like this and go through certain things in life that bring you back to a place where you can then just speed into the plows of the new depths of your life. I just wanna give my life my all, and I just wanna wish everyone the best. Thank you and God bless.”
A few points: how does someone win a “comeback” award for a project that hasn’t even been realized yet? She hasn’t come back in Speed-the-Plow because it hasn’t opened yet. And then how sad that she got an award from someone she calls a friend and yet they’ve never worked together; or howsabout the “a lot has happened … which I know and you know” bit … or how she so seamlessly inserted the name of her upcoming comeback “speed into the plow” into her speech when most normal folks know that if you speed into a plow, you’ll die.
Ah Lindsay, the gift that keeps on giving. Now that’s worth comeback!
Speaking of Lohan, let’s talk Ali Lohan.
Remember how she was going to be a model and then all those pictures appeared where her face seemed surgically altered botched? And then she really had no modeling career to speak of except in Japan where she was known as Lindsay’s Little Sister??
Well, now it seems that while she wasn’t modeling she was busy “writing songs and working with a singing coach” because she fancies herself the next Dolly Parton—even though we still have the real Dolly and don’t need no second-rate hack job.
But then Ali and Dina … Pass-The-Box-o-Wine … Lohan went to Nashville together and it is ALLEGED that there might be some interest in Ali’s singing career—that made me throw up in my mouth a little.
In fact, Ali has ALLEGEDLY — because this comes from Dina you know — been offered a $120,000 contract from one unnamed label, but Ali Dina already rejected the offer because she thinks she can get more money wine from someone else.
And a job as a roadie for her Dad and a position as Tour Whore for Mama because Dina and Michael have realized that they have squeezed every cent they could from Lindsay so it’s time to start with the younger one.
I don’t watch The Kardastrophes but it does seem like the one named Kourtney is the most normal; sure, she’s had a baby or three with her boyfriend, but at least she hasn’t been married and divorced a couple of times, or been cheated on by a basketball player, so I kinda thought maybe she wasn’t a real Kardashian.
But apparently she is because the man she picked to inseminate her three times, Scott Disick, is ALLEGEDLY a well-known alcoholic whose love of the bottle has nearly cost him his relationship, his kids and even his life on several occasions … like last month when he was apparently hospitalized AGAIN for alcohol poisoning after going wild at a Hamptons night club while Baby Mama Kourtney was hosting NorthSouthEastWest’s birthday hullaballoo in California.
Seriously? Is one of That Woman’s rules that her daughters marry, or get knocked up by losers? No wonder Rob Kardashian wants nothing to do with the Klan and no wonder Bruce is having more surgeries to look less like himself and more like a Midwestern housewife.
And speaking of Rob … nice segue … in one of the most recent episodes of that family’s “reality” show Kim Kash Kow Kardastrophe-Kwest bashes Rob — behind his back, of course, but in front of a camera crew — for being overweight. And while the lovely porn star Kim admits that Khloe is worried about their brother, she actually says she has no “sympathy” for him at all and that he should “suck it up” and fix his problems with depression and his weight.
You know, like she does with shopping sprees and surgeries.
And last, and certainly
least, Swifty, er Taylor Swift.
She’s been spending the
summer in New York having her photograph taken on the streets of Manhattan
every day, in different outfits because, well, she’s Taylor Swift and that’s
what she does. That and have her bodyguards shriek at people who have the
nerve to eat breakfast in the same room with Swifty and two of her paidBFFs.
An onlooker — and it
might have been Dina celebrating after she sold the Beyoncé story to the press
— says, “Taylor and her two friends took a table toward the back of the
restaurant, but her two security guards took a seat at the bar, eyeing the
other diners like a hawk.”
And while Swifty ate, her
guards watched the room and ran at anyone and everyone who dared pick up a cell
phone lest they snap a picture of Swifty with wing sauce on her chin. One diner
— again ... Dina — said, “My friend took her phone out of her purse, and one of
the men screamed ‘NO PICTURES!’ She was just checking the time!”
And apparently there were no
rabid fans bothering the little girl at breakfast; in fact, the only
disturbance in the entire room was the rampant shenanigans of Swifty’s security
Note to Tay-Tay: if you don’t
want your picture taken in a public restaurant STAY HOME.