Ok, so Jude Law is maybe a little bit of a whore, but that’s ok. It’s not new.  It’s something we have come to acknowledge and accept, so let’s just move on from that for a moment. Just because a guy knocks up some ladies and is seemingly incapable of sticking to just one woman doesn’t mean that he can’t be charming sometimes.

The above video was taken while Jude was on a trip to the Czech Republic to receive a prize at a film festival.  And just like any respectable person in a foreign country, he stopped by a wine bar and sang a sweet karaoke version of “Johnny B. Goode.”  He also does a little jig, does a really job bad pretending the mic stand is a guitar, and politely refuses a real guitar.

You B. Goode youself, Jude.  And keep doing karaoke, because it’s actually pretty precious.

Orlando Bloom already had one degree from the Guildhall School of Music and Drama, but he missed his graduation because he was off being a beautiful elf in Lord of the Rings. Luckily, he got a second chance – plus a brand new degree.

He was given an honorary degree from the University of Kent yesterday, and he got to graduate alongside 340 other alumni at Canterbury Cathedral.  He was also pretty pumped about it:

“It’s a really big deal. It’s an exciting day for me. I’m really honored to be back in my hometown. I have so many amazing memories of the cathedral and Canterbury. I have lived near the university so it’s like my playground. It’s a huge, huge honor and I feel chuffed, as does my mother — nobody more than my mother.”

Orlando was cheered on by his parents, his sister, and his fiance.

On a side note, how cute is his little graduation outfit?  Mine was nowhere near as adorable as that.  His jaunty little cap is just too much, I love it!

Terius “The-Dream” Nash, musical producer best known for working with Mariah Carey, Beyonce and Rihanna, has issued a statement that he and wife, Christina Milian, are splitting up.

The-Dream was photographed this past weekend frolicking in the waves (See? Fucking everyone is going on some tropical vacation. Get some!), in a rather provocative position with his personal assistant, Melissa Santiago. A position that, you know, isn’t exactly appropriate for a personal assistant to be in, unless, of course, they’re boning. Which they oh-so-clearly are.  Like, right now.

The-Dream’s released statement to Us Weekly claims:

“[Nash] is saddened to announce that his marriage to Christina Milian was unsuccessful. The couple reached this decision in late 2009, but decided to keep the news private in efforts to protect their baby daughter Violet.”

Though the pair had decided that they were going to split back in ’09 (at least according to Nash), Christina took to her Twitter account yesterday to voice her disapproval at what The-Dream was doing in the ocean with his assistant:

“”Whatever you think…believe it.”

And the ever-encompassing:

“Ugh.”

She also tweeted to one of her followers that she’d “officially” lost her appetite.

I’d lose my appetite, too. Even if, you know, I did marry someone who referred to himself as “The-Dream,” (complete with unnecessary hyphen) and kind of knew that something like this would happen eventually — ’cause, you know, “dreams” can turn rather wet when you least expect them to — and with the person you least expect, as well.

Owner of the Yankees baseball team, George Steinbrenner, passed away this morning at the age of 80. Steinbrenner suffered a massive heart attack at home in Tampa, Florida, and passed away shortly thereafter.

Steinbrenner was probably the most notable Yankees owner, like, ever, in that he held seven World Championship teams and eleven pennant winners. He was also famed for putting all of the team profits back into his team, instead of putting the profits back into his pocket, though he faced a lot of scrutiny for the outrageous Yanee player payroll.

Current Yankee shortstop Derek Jeter recently said of Steinbrenner:

“He’s arguably the most recognized owner in all of sports.”

And he was right. I never followed the Yankees, much less baseball (at least since cutie Darren Daulton played for the Phillies back in the nineties — my grandma had a huge crush on him, and by virtue, I did, too), but I always knew who he was because of George Costanza’s constant referrals to — and employment by — the team owner on Seinfeld.

RIP, George, and have a ball managing the all-star team up in the sky.

Have any of you ever read Zane Grey’s The Reef Girl? It’s a great book. And when I found out that Carrie Underwood and her new husband, Mike Fisher, were honeymooning in Tahiti, The Reef Girl was one of the first things I thought of — that book, and “Holy fuck, Carrie Underwood got married? Already?”

The two were photographed in Tahiti late yesterday, sipping coconut-looking drinks and frolicking in the azure blue waves. I need a vacation. Like, stat.  And looking at these photos only heightens the yearning.

Anyway, congratulations to Carrie and Mike! I really think these crazy kids are gonna make it! And if not, then hell. I’ll have won the bet.  Just keep away from Faaone, Mike.  Keep away.

Remember when Brad Pitt starred in Legends of the Fall? God, that was a great movie. Definitely one of my all-time favorites. He was so stinking hot, with his sun-kissed skin, his bleached-out hair, and his flashing blue eyes. I was totally, totally in love. I even had the movie posters in my bedroom, back when it was appropriate to still hang posters in my bedroom. I think if I hung huge photos in my bedroom these days, I might get some pretty strange looks, but I wouldn’t care. I’d have a life-sized cut out of Adrien Brody, like, stapled to my ceiling, and we’d have long, in-depth conversations every night.  You know, if I were eleven again.

Anyway. It’s apparent that Angelina has, indeed, sucked up the majority of Pitt’s lifeblood, because yes, while he looks much better without the pube farm he had growing on his face for awhile, he still doesn’t look amazing. And I’m not saying that because he’s gotten older — he just doesn’t look well. Still hot, still totally bankable, but there’s something different there, and I think I know what it is: look very, very closely underneath Brad’s exposed dimple … I think I see vampire fang scars. Lifeblood. Angelina. Succubus.