Jennifer Love Hewitt spent a few days in Hawaii with her boyfriend Ross McCall. Something went awry between this picture in September and what we’re looking at right now. What the hell are those ghosts whispering to her? That cake fights cancer? Seriously, the undead are assholes. Besides, it’s a proven fact that having sex with me is the only cure for cancer. Okay, maybe not so much proven, as drunkenly hinted at when you realize I’m not really Patrick Dempsey. Though I’m not really sure how the five-mile ride on my bike’s handlebars tipped you off.

Original post by Suzi

After I just confirmed that Britney Spears isn’t pregnant, I find out Paris Hilton is still hell-bent on putting a bun in her oven. C’mon! It seems Paris has babies on the brain again after hosting a baby shower for Nicole Richie last weekend, according to People:

“Nicole and I have been playing together since we were two years old,” she told PEOPLE at the Nissan Live Sets One Year Anniversary Party. “I was just telling her, ‘I want a baby so that our babies can play together.’”

You ever see one of those vans that animal shelters drive around and spay and neuter your pet for you? How do I modify one of those to work on humans? I kind of need an answer ASAP. Time is a factor. Oh, and also, what are the odds of getting a wet bar on that puppy? No, not the van. An actual puppy. I’ve always thought it’d be cool to have a dog with more than just one of those little barrels around his neck. Picture a Labrador, but with a margarita mixer instead of a tail.

Original post by Suzi

A cover story for In Touch magazine claims that Britney Spears is pregnant. The magazine claims producer J.R. Rotem is the father and texted In Touch to confirm the news. Britney’s pal Sam Lufti, who is attached to her at the hip, is saying these rumors are false, and today he sent the following text to Ryan Seacrest who read it on the air:

“It’s BS. Don’t know who made it up. J.R. doesn’t even know what’s up. It’s fake. Completely fake. We just wrapped her video. Going home to sleep.”

Consider this post a public service announcement. I wanted to make sure everyone knew the pregnancy rumors are totally false. God forbid, one of you thought it was true and decided to drink a cartridge of ink toner at work. That would be terrible. Unless you were drinking it because it’s delicious and you see right through the poison control center and all its lies. I know one time I had a glass of toner at work. I think it was when Jayden was born. Not only did I get to go home early, I spent all afternoon talking to my cat. That dude knows stuff.

Original post by Suzi

Christina Aguilera graces the cover of the latest issue of Marie Claire magazine in nothing but a leather jacket. Awesome, right? I mean, if you ignore the growing child in her Photoshopped belly. Christina talked to the magazine about her magical journey carrying Sasquatch’s child:

On trying to conceive with Jordan Bratman:
“We were planning on starting to try after the [Nov. 2006-May 2007 Back to Basics] tour. And so, I had gone off the Pill to prepare my body, because I didn’t know how much time it would take. You’ve heard it takes some time – except with Power Egg and Super Sperm here.”

On secretly wearing a heart monitor during her concerts:
“I didn’t want to make the audience uncomfortable, like, ‘Pregnant lady onstage! Is she going to be okay?’ But I had to announce it to my band and my dancers, because I wanted to make sure they had my back.”

On Paris Hilton letting the cat out of the bag:
“Because I hadn’t said anything, people thought I was trying to keep it this big, bad secret, and that’s not the case at all. I just wasn’t commenting. I’m not being like, ‘Hey, everybody, I’m pregnant!’ I’m not that girl.”

For all you female readers, I hope you’re empowered by this tale of pregnant stuff and clandestine heart monitors. In the meantime, I can’t stop thinking about Christina Aguilera referring to Jordan Bratman as “Super Sperm.” If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to remedy this situation by stepping outside and putting my face in front of a moving vehicle. Hopefully, the driver isn’t stricken by my natural beauty and doesn’t swerve into a building taking his/her own life instead. I swear it happens every goddamn time I leave the house.

Original post by Suzi

Lindsay Lohan supposedly hit the bottle over Thanksgiving weekend in New York. Friends say she did have a few drinks and a fight with her boyfriend Riley Giles may be the cause, according to NY Daily News:

After a late-night visit to the Beatrice Inn on Monday, says the source, Lohan was calling Manhattan pals for a place to stay. One friend received numerous voice messages around 4 a.m.

Hey, just because you call someone at four in the morning, doesn’t mean you’re drunk. I do it all the time. Sometimes I have something really important I need to tell my ex-girlfriend. Things like “Binge drinking has filled the hole you left in my heart. And so did chicken wings.” Or “This trash can I puked in is all the love I need.” None of that indicates I consumed an entire milk jug full of Jager then wasted my only phone call at the police station. That’s, wow, pretty judgmental of you to jump to such a wild and accurate conclusion.

Original post by Suzi

The latest issue of Star magazine claims Britney Spears’ house is allegedly equipped with a fully functioning “fantasy room” And I’m talking of the sexy variety. The double-locked room is loaded with whips, ticklers and a closet full of outfits. NY Daily News reports:

“She wears Catholic schoolgirl uniforms, a maid’s uniform and a Cinderella outfit,” claims the mole. The source also contends Brit is so obsessed with Marilyn Monroe that she wants her nose redone to look like the blond model of self-destruction.
“Britney is sexually obsessed,” the source tells Star.

What’s even worse is that Britney’s sex-toys make it out into the living room. You know, that place where her toddler sons like to play. Of course, they’re probably too busy fighting off disease and infection to notice:

Star’s source also claims the house is a stinky sty — that the white couches bear hideous stains of diaper-changing and Britney’s dog. According to the tab, a “court-appointed watchdog” is set to declare the place a potential “health hazard.”

Britney Spears’ house sounds pretty much how I expected: Her kids lie twitching in the corner after mommy left her tickler in their Power Wheel. London, the Yorkie, quietly watches as he craps in the toy box. And there’s no sign of Britney anywhere except for the loud snap of a whip and the occasional cry of “Hurry, before I turn into a pumpkin!” Though I’m surprised there’s no mention of a pack of wolves roaming the halls. I figured they’d be there somewhere. Unless the creepy guy in the clown costume with the child-size burlap sack let them out.

Original post by Suzi

Carson Daly is resuming production of his show Last Call with Carson Daly despite the current writers strike. Carson, who is not a member of the Writers Guild, will be the first late-night host to cross the picket line, according to People:

All of the late-night talk shows have been in reruns in solidarity with their writers, who went on strike Nov. 5. Contract talks between the writers and producers resumed Monday.

If Carson Daly wanted to remind people he exists, mission accomplished. I had completely forgotten about this ass-clown until now which is sort of depressing. It’s like remembering there’re still things like cancer and AIDS out there. Fortunately there’s a cure for Carson Daly. It’s called my fist; applied liberally to the face area.

Original post by Suzi