On Saturday, we will celebrate the birthday of the United States, and the freedoms we enjoy in this country — for some, it will be a sober occasion, with family and loved ones stationed overseas and at risk.
We can, however, expect absolutely zero sobriety today, as Lindsay Lohan celebrates her 23rd birthday. Remember when they let her out of rehab briefly to celebrate her 21st? And she had to drink water and Red Bull and stuff? NEVER AGAIN!
From all of us to you, Lindsay, happy birthday. Try not to die.
On another note, we’re taking some time off around here to celebrate the national holiday that is Lindsay’s birthday. And the Fourth of July, I suppose. I’ll be around here and there to cover breaking news, but Wendie and Kelly are taking a well-deserved break until Monday. Have a happy and safe holiday!
Arnold Klein, the pimp dermatologist who allegedly fathered Michael Jackson’s children, speaks with media outside his home in Los Angeles. This looks nothing like the previous photo we saw of Klein. He’s really let himself go in recent years, I guess. Either that, or he’s carrying three more of Michael’s children in his uterus. (Seriously, though, the shirt is stained in like three places. So gross. I would never let this guy touch my skin.)
After reading an entire Quincy Jones interview on the Style.com website, I have a new found respect for this dude. Finally, a celebrity is willing to speak the truth regarding Michael Jackson. Jackson was an addict, he didn’t want to be black as evidenced by his skin bleaching and white, adopted kids, and he lied about having conditions that he probably didn’t suffer from.
Q:You were there to witness the strange evolution in Michael’s appearance. Did you ever step in and saying anything about it? A: Oh, we talked about it all the time. But he’d come up with, “Man, I promise you I have this disease,” and so forth, and “I have a blister on my lungs,” and all that kind of b.s. It’s hard, because Michael’s a Virgo, man—he’s very set in his ways. You can’t talk him out of it. Chemical peels and all that stuff.
Q: Did you believe him about the disease? A: I don’t believe in any of that bullshit, no. No. Never. I’ve been around junkies and stuff all my life. I’ve heard every excuse. It’s like smokers—”I only smoke when I drink” and all that stuff. But it’s bullshit. You’re justifying something that’s destructive to your existence. It’s crazy. I mean, I came up with Ray Charles, man. You know, nobody gonna pull no wool over my eyes. He did heroin 20 years! Come on. And black coffee and gin for 40 years. But when he called me to come over to see him when he was in the hospital on his way out, man, he had emphysema, hepatitis C, cirrhosis of the liver, and five malignant tumors. Please, man! I’ve been around this all my life. So it’s hard for somebody to pull the wool over my eyes. But when somebody’s hell-bent on it, you can’t stop ‘em.
Q:But it must’ve been so disturbing to see Michael’s face turn into what it turned into. A: It’s ridiculous, man! Chemical peels and all of it. And I don’t understand it. But he obviously didn’t want to be black.
Q:Is that what it was? A: Well, what do you think? You see his kids?
Jones also revealed that he won’t be attending the funeral, because “being there with 10 million people is not my idea of a tribute to somebody you were so close to—who’s got a part of your soul. Our souls were joined, you know. And a piece of it goes with him.”
Bradley Cooper was briefly “dating” Jennifer Aniston. And when I say “dating,” what I really mean is “being seen in public to dispel the rumor that he’s engaged to be married to a certain celebrity blogger.” He must have become bored with all the Brad talk, because he’s “moved on.”
Now, the silly people at People are reporting that he’s “dating” Renee Zellweger. They had dinner Tuesday night at Antonucci’s in Manhattan and reportedly appeared to be a couple. He’s an excellent actor.
Stay tuned for more sightings and stories of him “dating” every single broad in Hollywood. And expect me to report every single event using a copious amount of quotation marks.
Jessica Simpson sang the National Anthem at a golf tournament that boyfriend Tony Romo — he was booed by spectators, because he was a Dallas Cowboys quarterback golfing in Washington Redskins territory and that’s bad — played in yesterday in Bethesda, Maryland. And you know, she didn’t suck. Some news outlets are calling her screechy, belting out of “The Star Spangled Banner” offensive, but those underdeveloped, overextended vocal cords have sold a massive amount of albums. She remembered the lyrics and no neighborhood cats appeared in hopes of using her leg as a scratching post. I consider it a success.
What I do find offensive: Horizontal stripes on Jessica Simpson. Offensive. Every time.
Michael Jackson’s memorial service is next Tuesday at the Staples Center in Los Angeles. Like all Michael’s previous performances, ticket agencies will be involved. I think this is very sad.
Michael’s whole life seems to have been centered around making money. As a child, his focus was making money with Jackson 5 to help support his family. As an adult, he achieved huge heights of fame, yet seemed constantly plagued by the problems his fortune garnered him. Now, even the mourning of his death will be an assigned seating, ticket-stub event.
