Today's Evil Beet Gossip

Who Wore It Worse?

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So, Mary-Kate Olsen and Leighton Meester chatted on the phone the night before the New Yorkers for Children charity ball, and Leighton was all like, “I bet I can look more ridiculous than you by putting my small, bra-less tits into a shapeless dress,” and Mary-Kate was all like, “I’ll take that bet, bitch.”

Who won?

You decide.

Gwyneth Paltrow Manages to Be Annoying Even in Her Post-Partum Depression

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OMG. This chick is soooo annoying.

I understand that post-partum depression is a very real and serious illness that affects women of all walks of life. I understand the importance of both diagnosing and treating it.

What I don’t understand is why Gwyneth Paltrow thinks her post-partum depression, with second child Moses, was the result of “scaling back on her usual pre-baby treatments like acupuncture.”

Sigh.

We’ve finally isolated the root of post-partum depression!

NOT ENOUGH ACUPUNCTURE!!!

So if you’re one of those poor, tragic souls who can’t afford regular acupuncture treatment while simultaneously juggling the costs of pre-natal check-ups, sonograms, diapers, cribs, toys, baby food and your pre-existing children, you’re pretty much fucked. Sorry.

Photo Shoots Are Really Crucial to Suing Rob Lowe

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Here the nanny suing Rob Lowe and his wife for sexual harrassment, Jessica Gibson, in an “exclusive photo shoot” for People magazine.

Really?

I mean, really?

Jesus, she’s only suing him for $50,000. And not that that’s not a significant amount of money, but it’s not like this bitch is single-handedly taking on Big Tobacco. I mean, who the hell has ever had a nanny job without the husband trying to get in her pants? This is the reason male nannies were invented. Didn’t anyone else watch Party of Five?

I can’t believe she’s doing exclusive photo shoots. Ridiculous.

Seriously, I used to date the host of a popular Nickelodeon kids show. On and off for years. And I have text messages, photos and emails that would ruin quite a few childhood memories. They were obnoxious. And sometimes I’m like, “You know, I could probably make some money and get a little attention if I sold these.” And then I’m like, “Nah, that’s a totally dumbass thing to do.” Because even when he was doing this obnoxious stuff, I was still dating him. Just like this chick kept showing up at work every day.

Photo shoots. Shit. I hope she winds up owing him money.

Jane’s Addiction to Reunite for One Show

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Okay, so, I don’t really care about the band Jane’s Addiction, but, when I saw this article, I couldn’t help thinking of another Jane’s Addiction.

I wasn’t always living the high life of a celebrity gossip blogger. Once upon a time, I was a poor college student, living with my boyfriend and another guy in the fabulous Broadway Park Apartments in Tempe, Arizona. Did I mention we were poor? We ate, like, mac and cheese and potatoes every night. And slept until 3 pm and never went to class. And the apartment complex was a shit-hole. Granted, this was like eight years ago, but I think the rent on a two-bed, two-bath at the time was something like $450, and we were splitting it three ways, and it still felt like a financial stretch at the time. The apartment above us was always being rented out to people from “transitional” homes, who would get drunk and pee off their balcony, onto ours, at all hours of the night. There were seriously, like, gangs of small children who roamed the grounds, their parents all working two or three jobs, and we pretty much fed them and threw their birthday parties. And I’m talking, like, three-year-old kids. Just wandering around the complex, unsupervised and hungry. My boyfriend’s name was Jeremy, and the littlest ones couldn’t pronounce it, so they called him “Wammy,” and the nickname sticks to this day. They’d just show up on our patio in small groups and wait for us to come outside to smoke a cigarette, at which point we’d always ask them if they were hungry, and they’d nod, and we’d give them something really healthy, like a Snickers bar.

Anyway, our next-door neighbor was a porn star. Her name was Jane. And she had a porn website called janes-addiction.com, which is still around, but it doesn’t feature her anymore. My boyfriend called her “Naked Neighbor.” At the time, I actually did some web design work for her, but never posed (although the offer was repeatedly extended). Jane was actually a really sweet, really cool chick, and I tried to get in touch with her several years ago, but never heard back. I have no idea what she’s up to now. I sincerely hope she’s found her way out of porn. But whenever I hear about Jane’s Addiction, the band, I think about Naked Neighbor and those good old days of college poverty.

The point is: Jane’s Addiction is getting back together. For one show, on April 23. In case you care.

I Need to Have a Long Talk with My Boss

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I don’t control the ads around here. I just write the smut, and a much larger media company does the ad sales, and then contacts me several times a month with angry emails employing the phrase “this is a real problem” when they feel my content has “crossed a line” and will potentially reflect poorly on their company. And then my response is something along the lines of “Didn’t you read anything on the website before you bought the advertising rights?” and we go back and forth like that, and sometimes I have to pull an image or, you know, an entire Dita Von Teese sex tape, in the interest of keeping my job, and then we move along our merry way until next time.

So imagine my surprise when I load up my website today and find that the Church of Scientology is advertising on it.

Um …

I need to talk with my boss.

And, in the meantime, I’m sorry. To both you guys and the Church of Scientology, I suppose.

Update: Email from boss: “I asked them to block/pull that ad. I have no idea how it got there in the first place.” I ::heart:: boss.