Britney has regained visitation rights with her kids, after complying with the judge’s orders.
The singer on Saturday was spotted driving with her children in Studio City, Calif., in her white Mercedes convertible, which was decorated with pumpkins on the dashboard.
A presumed court-appointed monitor was seated in the front seat, with her sons in the rear.
Hopefully she’ll keep visitation rights for more than a day or so!
The littlest Cruise (even littler than Tom!) gets a tour of NYC with her folks on Friday night.
You can tell she’s still kind of quizzical about those strange little monsters who keep flashing lights at her. She’ll get used to it.
Okay, so I still refuse to believe she’s the actual child of Tom and Katie, but she sure as hell is cute.
Wanna preview Britney’s new album? You can get a sneak peak at some of the songs on this player her PR folks have created, because, you know, most of it’s leaked already, so who cares? There are a few on here I hadn’t heard already, but most of them have been floating around the Internet for awhile.
What’s the verdict?
Oh, and it looks like Brit-Brit might be able to see her kids again soon. Her lawyer says she’s “in compliance” with all the judge’s orders and that “I expect that visitation will be reinstated.”
Heidi’s boss, Brent Bolthouse, gets all cuddly with Lauren Conrad at the Victoria’s Secret Phi Beta PINK party on Thursday night.
Maybe Lauren will be stealing promotions from Heidi in the future …
Okay, did the Cirque Lodge drop-outs do Lindsay’s spray tan?
Because I find it hard to believe that anyone did that shit sober.
Or maybe Lindsay did it herself. With some $8 self-tanner she picked up at CVS. I hear she’s been short on money lately. Because, I mean, I’ve seen some fucked up tans on this girl, but this one takes the cake.
Aren’t you glad you’re back home? Didn’t you miss this?
I missed you, baby. I know we fight, honey, but I do it because I love you so much. Shh, baby. Don’t cry. I’m just trying to show you how glad I am you’re home. You don’t trust me? Oh, baby girl, that’s because you’re stupid. Now go clean your fug ass up and cook me dinner.
A fresh-from-rehab Joanie “Chyna” Laurer poses with Captain Morgan at the Spike Scream Awards in LA on Friday.
You know, I’ve seen more than one celeb in my life politely decline to be photographed with alcohol or anything alcohol-related, even when it’s an alcohol sponsoring the party. I was at a party once sponsored by Anheuser-Busch, whose PR folks desperately wanted to get a photo of Nick Cannon with a Budweiser, and he was just like, “No way. You can get as many photos of me as you want, but I’m not holding a beer.”
Chyna, dear, you might want to take a hint.
So we’re leaving Shag in Hollywood last night, due to the tragic lack of hot men there that night, and we’re waiting for the valet to bring our car around, when I spot this dude getting into the VIP line.
“This is retarded,” I tell my girls. “Just when we’re leaving, the hottest guy I’ve seen in forever shows up here.”
My friends gave me shit. “He’s not that hot!” they say. “You’re crazy!” They start laughing at me and shaking their heads. But I stick to my guns. “That guy is gorgeous,” I tell them. Just to annoy me and my kinda shy real-life personality, they go up and start chatting with him. They’re handing him their numbers as the valet brings my convertible around. “Get in the car!” I scream at them. I’m just plain mad at them now.
We’ve made it about a block down Cahuenga when he shouts at us. “Hey! Can I get a ride to Tokio?”
We tell him to hop in — we’re headed for Sunset, so he’s on our way. He says he’s just done the red carpet at the Roosevelt for some movie premiere there.
“Where would I know you from?” I ask.
“I’m on that new Vh1 show about models,” he says.
“America’s Most Smartest Model?” I ask. He nods.
When I’m right, I’m right, you guys.
Oh, and my friends gave him their numbers, but you know who got his?