Rabbi Avi Shafran frets in Jewsweek about the "mad rush to embrace " the celebrity-powered Kabbalah Centre. But he tells us what we already knew: Real Jews don't do the Kabbalah Centre.
Odyssey Video's Brentwood store on Wilshire decides to class up the neighborhood with a yellow sign announcing Paris' debut, available for both rental and sale. Now that celebutante camcorder doggy-styling has invaded this side of the Hills, West Side parents can take some measure of solace in the difference between their spoiled daughters and the inimitable Miss Hilton: They know to erase their sex tapes.
Towleroad encourages us to throw out our Von Dutch hats as they herald the arrival of Bull's Balls. But we think there's a different, tired trend ripe for replacement. Instead of adorning our SUV, let's show a pair of red balls to Madonna. Once she dangles a pair in front of the Kabbalah Centre high command, they'll rush to create a line of evil-eye repelling chin-protectors.
Courtroom cabaret act/grunge-singing harridan Courtney Love's website, the place to turn for All Things Courtney when the police blotter just isn't enough, is offline due to lack of funds. A message on the site explains that their "server has been suspended, and we need to come up with $5,000 to get it back online." Let's make it happen! CL fans need a place where they can discuss her salad days, which began with the assault on Madonna at the MTV Music Awards and ended when she gave that guy at Wendy's a chance to play "What flavor is my nipple?"
Poking around in Mira Sorvino's bridal registry reminded us that another blonde in a pink mu-mu recently got engaged. Might the eager bride have already set up a registry of her own? We discovered that soon-to-be-married pop-stars are so rich and famous that they don't even have to register—their resourceful fans will handle it for them! There are 8 registries for Brit-Brit on WeddingChannel.com, running the retail gamut from JC Penney's to Williams-Sonoma. There's one for Spears and Vegas wedding-chapel fodder Jason Alexander, one for an unknown fiancé, four for ostensible Spears devirginizer Justin Timberlake (in one, she's "Brittany"), and two for, well, let's call them "superfans" and leave the police out of it, OK?
Since Mira Sorvino waited until yesterday to tell the world that she got married, we don't feel bad showing the world her (supposed) Tiffany's bridal registry today. Don't worry, there are still plenty of items on the registry waiting for your purchase. (That means no excuses, Travolta!) It only seems like she has everything an actress in the decline phase of her career could want: an Oscar for tolerating Woody Allen's shriveled genitals, intimate knowledge of Quentin Tarantino's "technique," and a 22-year-old husband to agree in between levels of Mario Kart that there just aren't any good roles for women in their thirties anymore.
We can all breathe a little easier now and finally let down our guards against the evil eye. Kabbalah is officially over. Yesterday, MSNBC's Jeannette Walls (undoubtedly to the chagrin of Kabbalah Centre elders) let it slip that peripheral OJ Simpson trial figure Faye Resnick has been spotted skulking around the Centre in LA. Z-Listers mentioned in Kabbalah-related gossip item: Trend on life support.
Filthy sister site Fleshbot tips us to this German site, which features a story about Paris Hilton purchasing her own "unauthorized" porn video, 1 Night In Paris, here in LA. (Fleshbot also helpfully provides the Babelfish translation of the site.) Click on the picture to see the unfiltered German site (and a larger picture of Paris admiring Paris), with whom we heartily agree: "The private Schmuddel tie-clip is meanwhile the Sex Seller of the yearly."
If you're anything like us, tossing and turning each night, tortured by a longing to send IMs to Punk'd impersario/possible Demi impregnator Ashton Kutcher that read "OMG u r so totally hott! Y r u banging that old bag of bones?", relief may be just an eBay auction away. A desperate auctioneer claims to be violating a friend's confidence and offering up Kutcher's screen name to the highest bidder.
We wanted to take the easy route and title this "Yet Another Reason To Avoid The Valley." But that's just simplistic and a tad clichéd. What if Paris is coming to Odyssey Video in North Hollywood, just like any other porn star promoting a new release? If she were, maybe we could drop by and get her to sign our ass, slap us in the face with her goodies, or pose in a compromising position for a twenty-dollar Polaroid. Fox is really missing out on a golden opportunity for marketing The Simple Life 2. Since they couldn't talk her into starring in another video, they might as well milk the promotional possibilites of the first one.
In its admirably succinct entirety, a Variety birth announcement:
LA.com's Laurie Pike blogs about last night's LA Film Fest party for DIG!, the documentary about the rivalry between the Brian Jonestown Massacre and the Dandy Warhols. The showing was predictably littered with hipsters (but who did we expect to be there, the Octogenarian Blue Plate Special Club from Nibblers?), and Pike rips them a new set of holes for their ironic t-shirts:
When we picked up this week's issue of the LA Weekly and saw the titillating cover story (picture at left) about Valley homes used in porn shoots, we could barely contain our excitement. We felt like a kid fast-forwarding through the cable-repair setup of his first smut tape as we flipped through the paper's pages, scanning for the dirty parts. Alas, the article turned out to be, in the words of the Weekly, "not so much about the porn, but the charged juxtaposition of home and domesticity, sex and fantasy." Whatever. There are enough pictures of naked people to get the job done.
The newly-appointed Defamer Correspondent on Synchronous Liberal Events writes in to discuss the traffic implications of the Clinton book signing and the simultaneous release of Fahrenheit 9/11:
Perry Farrell can't win. Lollapalooza is kaput, and so, apparently, is Jane's Addiction. This post, from Jane's guitarist/Carmen Electra husband Dave Navarro's blog, tries to explain what's going on. It all sounds like the usual combination of volatility and creative differences. We were hoping for drugs, gunplay, and three-ways. Whatever happened to our rock n roll?
