Category: Actresses (Page 225 of 258)

Turns out breaking up is surprisingly EASY to do.

Who doesn’t enjoy reading the dirt on a messy Hollywood break-up? I mean, hell, the entertainment media machine would come to a standstill if all romances were happily-ever-after storybook affairs. Leave it to Jim Parish, then, to put together a book that highlights the “best” of the bunch. Parish, whose last book tackled the life and times of some of Hollywood’s biggest flops (“Fiasco“), tackles the Tinseltown relationships that went belly-up, getting as current as Pitt-Aniston and Hawke-Thurman, but going as far as back as Hollywood’s glory days.

It’s an educational ride through cinematic history. You hear loads about Bogie and Bacall, but the tale of Humphrey Bogart’s third wife – Lauren Bacall was his fourth – is fascinating…if tragic. Mayo Methot was a substance abuser, but she also was the victim of paranoia and schizophrenia, resulting in her stabbing Bogie in the small of the back with a butcher knife and slamming his head against a concrete sidewalk. Yikes. There are also the tales of famed romances like Joe Dimaggio and Marilyn Monroe, Ava Gardner and Frank Sinatra, and Orson Welles and Lana Turner.

Well worth checking out.

Angelina shrugged…


“Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.”

…and said, “Sure, I’ll take the lead role in one of the most daunting book-to-film translations of all time. Piece of cake. Why not?”

The translation in question is none other than “Atlas Shrugged,” the sprawling, 1200-page epic penned by Objectivist author Ayn Rand back in 1957. Panned by some as an ode to selfishness, while lauded by others as a piercing indictment of communism and the welfare state, the book explores a future in which the nation’s greatest thinkers, artists and industrialists voluntarily withdraw their talents from public access — forcing the “little people” to fumble along without them.

According to a joint survey conducted by the Library of Congress and the Book of the Month Club, “Atlas Shrugged” is “the second most influential book for Americans today.”

Second only to what, you ask? The Bible. How’s that for high stakes?

And yet, if anyone can pull off the role of a woman dedicated to promoting “rational self-interest” above all else without coming off like a right-wing harpy…it’s probably the same woman who can steal the Sexiest Man Alive from America’s Sweetheart and, due largely to her significant humanitarian efforts, still come out of it smelling like a rose.

Good luck, Angelina. Don’t screw this up.

Jessica Simpson launches new Hooters chain

daisy
“May I drop my pen for you?”

Well, okay: Technically, Simpson’s new line of restaurants featuring voluptuous, scantily clad waitresses who drop stuff a lot will be called “Daisy Duke’s,” named after Simpson’s voluptuous, scantily clad character in the recent Dukes of Hazzard film. Hot pants will be required attire for all staff except, presumably, big ol’ Chef Cooter and the rest of the kitchen crew.

Just like nearly every other major decision in Jessica’s life (when to lose her virginity; when to divorce her husband; whether to wear the low-cut dress or the really low-cut dress…), the restaurant plan is the brainchild of Jessica’s father/manager, Joe Simpson.

Both Simpson sisters and their manipulative, leering father were recently chastised by Christian minister Bob Harrington for using sex to sell their music and other products — a criticism this latest move seems unlikely to address:

Harrington fumed: “Their father has replaced his faith in the Lord with the love of money, which is the root of all evil. He has replaced holiness with horniness.

“Jessica and Ashlee will reap the dismal crops they are sowing. Their breasts will sag and their faces will wither and they will be left with nothing but a hollow shell.”

And, we hope, some tasty chicken wings.

Lindsay Lohan has a great fall


Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall…

Lindsay Lohan has fractured her wrist in two places. The official report is that she slipped and fell on it at a Fashion Week after-party because the host failed to take adequate precautions “to prevent slips on the slick ground.”

But we all know that’s not the real story, right? What really happened that night was either:

A), She broke it punching a wall after first-and-only-true love Wilmer Valderrama left the party with rumored fling Scarlett Johansson;
B), She smashed it against the face of whatever paparazzi leaked those shots of her firecrotch onto the internet;
C), The wrist broke all on its own, finally giving out after years of abuse lifting heavy glasses of alcohol and other long, hard, weighty objects; or
D), [insert your own explanation here]

Place your votes, folks! We’ll get to the bottom of this if it kills us…

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