PrivacyWatch celebrity sightings are submitted by our readers, and are now posted several times a week—so start sending them in more often! Send yours to tips[AT]defamer.com (please put "sighting" or "PrivacyWatch" in the subject line) and let everyone know about the time you spotted local tree-squatter Daryl Hannah roasting cosmic marshmallows by a Burning Man campfire.
Though one might question whether a man who was recently outperformed by a group of mentally retarded actors will be good for Chelsea newsstand sales, Johnny Knoxville graces the cover of the new Out (the first issue under new EIC Aaron Hicklin). Knoxville, apparently eager to prove his pink chops, made a play for staff love by bringing his own gay mixtape to the photo shoot. What a brilliant way to win over the Gays — homos love to dance! The playlist:
Paramount has much riding on Jackass: Number Two, with the hit-hungry studio praying audiences will show up for another heaping serving of its particular brand of inter-rectal Hot Wheels fun. Director Jeff Tremaine—whose face became familiar to West Hollywood locals when Jackass star Johnny Knoxville put it on a billboard promoting a fictional gay cruise line—spoke to MTV.com about his unwitting participation in the viral marketing prank:
Collider noticed the billboard looming over the corner of Palm and Santa Monica in West Hollywood, which rather boldly touts something called "Rainbow Cruise Lines" and directs curious, prospective vacationers to check out the company's website. Gay shuffleboard enthusiasts will undoubtedly be disappointed to discover that the seafaring come-on is just a stunt advertisement for Jackass: Number Two, and that the movie's web presence is completely devoid of Johnny Knoxville and Steve-O's signature mututal cock-and-ball torture, adding to the sting of the promotional subterfuge.
It was the unlikeliest of pairings: She, a Kennedy, tireless founder of the Special Olympics, mother to the first lady of California, and 51 years his senior; he, a movie star whose career was launched on the popularity of his self-styled televised scrotum-stapling showcase. They met at a promotional event, and the attraction was immediate he was a sucker for her irresistible grin and flowing locks of snowy blond hair (his favorite); she, his dashing good looks and proper erectile functioning. Yes, he was married. But so was she. That just made it hotter. Before you knew it, it was every second weekend at the Cape for another "Ringer junket."
• Is Paris Hilton banned from LA nightclub LAX for talking smack about her former BFF Nicole Richie? If so, it suggests that there might be some sort of karmic balance to that otherwise moira-less world. [Scoop]
• For reasons involving some sort of warped explanation about puzzles and pieces, Kathy Griffin is canned from E!, leaving you no choice but to actually watch the TV Guide network for your red carpet coverage. [Page Six]
• Say what you will about PR madam Lizzie Grubman, but she picked up and drove her entire staff to work yesterday and didn't run a single one of them over. See? Reform is possible. [Lowdown]
• Professional binge-drinkers Johnny Knoxville and Luke Wilson break tables at the Hog Pit, stumble and slur their way around Soho. Celebrities — they're just like us! [Page Six]
• Now that suspected sexual assaulter Peter Braunstein has been apprehended, the lovely ladies at Fairchild have taken their shoes out of the safe and are throwing staff parties. [Gatecrasher]
We'd never expect an event for Jackass to attract anyone in the alphabetical neighborhood of the A-list, members of which generally don't have a very high tolerance for the stapling of genitalia to stationary objects or the show-offy chewing of broken glass. But when nearly all of the wire photos of the night include pornstar/recall gubernatorial hopeful Mary Carey, things are not good. According to this report from an operative unlucky enough to have turned up to the party, the planners had a problem luring warm bodies of any kind to fill the venue, even with the promise of booze and food:
It was to be the next great Hollywood romantic pairing our generation's Burton and Taylor, their tempestuous, larger-than-life passion bubbling over into unforgettable on-screen performances in historical epics. They were supposed to get married to each other possibly more than once! No more: fire-eyed demon of temptation, thy name is Hard Rock Hotel & Casino.
• Al Gore's cable network, which launches today, is apparently a tapas bar, says a San Francisco Chronicle writer. This is, we think, a good thing, mostly because we had some excellent tapas last time we were in the City. [SFC]
• Katie Couric is a diva, but not one who throws lamps, says Ken Auletta. Not that we can actually get to his article online. [NYer]
• While her husband is on vacation, Judy Miller gets jail visits from journos. [E&P]
• TV on the web is perhaps finally here. Which comes as great news for your friends who worked at Pseudo five years ago. [NYT]
• GQ really, really likes The Dukes of Hazzard. [NYT]
• As if things were looking so rosy for media companies in the first place, now a global ad slowdown is expected. [NYP]
• Ten bought-out employees had their last days at the Times on Friday. [Romenesko]
• Apparently there's a clever guy in Los Feliz running a smart and funny blog about Hollywood. Who knew? [LAT]
• At the after-party for the premiere of Broken Flowers, star Bill Murray jumped over a table and chased down an Interview photographer for taking his picture. Sadly, the party was sponsored by that very magazine, but you try telling that to a crazy man. [R&M]
• Apparently, Murray's mood was not aided by Mercedes, which sent out luxury cars to chauffeur certain luminaries to the event. While Bill Murray and Jim Jarmusch were carted about in a Maybach 62, poor Sofia Coppola and Taye Diggs were forced to ride in a ghetto Mercedes R-class. Bill Murray hates this sort of injustice, we're sure. [Page Six]
• Johnny Knoxville stays true to form, kicking the ass of some striped button-down wearing frat boy who wouldn't leave Kate Moss alone at a Soho bar. Such a gent, defending the honor of his former mistress. [Lowdown (2nd item)]
• OMG, Roger Friedman is still writing about Michael Jackson. The mind boggles. [Fox411]
