Author: Deb Medsker (Page 58 of 70)

Pamela Anderson takes on Kentucky

Offended first by alleged abuse of chickens in KFC processing plants, and now by the cruelty of “forcing horses to race for our amusement” at the Kentucky Derby, PETA activist Pam Anderson has said she will never again attend the annual Churchill Downs extravaganza.

“It makes me want to avoid Kentucky altogether, which makes me sad because there are so many great people there,” the buxom actress said, just before cramming two rare, endangered, giant pink hooterbirds into a restrictive foundation garment sewn by a five-year-old in a Chinese sweatshop.

Shannen Doherty wants to be a ‘tailie’

Not realizing that auditions for this season of “Lost” have already been completed, former teen bitch queen Shannen Doherty rammed her Range Rover into another man’s car on Tuesday, hoping to prove to the show’s creators that she is every bit as bad a driver as ‘tailies’ Michelle Rodriguez and Cynthia Watros.

Upon being informed that a) the tailies were drunk rather than stone cold sober during their respective driving infractions, and b) “Lost” producers Damon Lindelof and J.J. Abrams have no use for high-maintenance has-beens who still think they’re TV stars, Doherty asked for actor Josh Holloway’s phone number before a bag was placed over her head and she was dragged into the jungle by a mysterious band of Others, never to be seen again.

Willie Nelson cashes in on gay cowboy craze

Hoping to connect with urban cowboys, metrosexuals, and D-county rodeo stars alike, Willie Nelson has released a song called “Cowboys are Frequently, Secretly (Fond of Each Other).” The song was penned by Texan songwriter Ned Sublette a quarter-century ago, during the peak popularity of that other closeted gay western starring John Travolta, but only recorded by Nelson last year — presumably after catching a glimpse of the way Jake Gyllenhaal filled out his Levi’s.

Available exclusively on iTunes, the song includes lyrics like “Inside every cowboy there’s a lady that would love to slip out.” In Willie’s case, we’re going to assume that lady likes to wear her hair in braids.

They’ll always have Paris

As thousands of deluded women lacking gaydar weep with relief, bastion of journalistic integrity Life & Style “don’t call us a tabloid” magazine reports (thanks to gawker.com for the link) that Tom Cruise might just be back on the market.

Can it be? Could the fake love that blossomed not even a year ago, conveniently timed just prior to the two fake lovebirds’ major summer movie releases, have slipped away so easily — and just before their fake child is secretly adopted born?

What a devastating turn of events to cloud our great nation’s Valentine’s Day. Why, it seems like only yesterday Tom was moved to grand couch-jumping, Eiffel-Tower-climbing gestures of fake love…and now all he can manage is to buy his soon-to-be-former fake ex a lousy mansion in which to raise the child Tom will forever refer to as his biological son. Unless, of course, Katie conveniently is unfortunate enough to have a miscarriage just prior to the release of the incredibly virile Tom’s next big action movie (“Mission Impossible: 3,” in theaters May 5, tickets on sale soon), a circumstance which would be tragic for everyone involved and is certainly not being planned right this minute. In that case, Katie will have to find her own housing.

True love is fragile, indeed. Let us pray for Tom and Katie, and observe a moment of silence to mourn their deeply pretended, completely heterosexual, non-enduring love.

U.S. Olympic team gets beat up by a bunch of girls

Speaking of smackdowns, the ratings are in, and things aren’t looking so hot for struggling NBC. Sunday night the peacock net’s one great hope for climbing out of the ratings basement, the Winter Olympics telecast, was soundly trounced by a new episode of ABC’s “Desperate Housewives” and by the stellar conclusion to “Grey’s Anatomy’s” “Code Black” Super Bowl cliffhanger.

The world’s finest amateur athletes take on a skinny medical intern and a bunch of over-privileged suburban housewives, and the athletes get their asses handed to them in a lovely gingham-lined wicker basket. Imagine what would have happened if ABC had put Meredith, Izzy, Gabrielle and Edie on figure skates: NBC might have just thrown in the towel and aired a test pattern instead, to save money.

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