Although I’ve lived in L.A. for awhile now, I’ll always be an Arizona girl at heart, and I’ll always have a soft spot for “America’s Toughest Sheriff,” who made his inmates live in tents in the AZ summer heat, wear pink jumpsuits and eat meat he’d dyed green. But today I love Sheriff Joe even more than usual, because he’s offering AZ’s facilities to L.A. County, lest the overcrowding in L.A. mean Paris has to do less time than she was originally sentenced to do.
Maricopa County Sheriff Joe Arpaio says he’s spoken to the chief of jails in Los Angeles and offered to house Hilton at Tent City.
“I just made an offer,” Arpaio said. “Instead of reducing her sentence, which I feel is wrong, why not bring her over here? We can incarcerate her here. She can do her time over here.”
And according to the Maricopa County Sheriffâ€™s department, the Los Angeles County Sheriff is considering the proposal.
“Oh, Iâ€™d love to have her here,” Arpaio said. “Just another celebrity. Not that I’m a publicity hound, but I’d imagine if I had her in these tents there’d be (publicity).”
Arpaio says that while that Los Angeles County is considering his offer, Hiltonâ€™s lawyers will probably object.
You know, come to think of it, David Faustino’s really done a remarkable job of staying out of trouble this long. He was a child star, quickly typecast into the role of Bud Bundy on Married with Children, and never really got another decent role after the series wrapped ten years ago. He’s 33 now, and he just got pinched in Florida for marijuana possession and disorderly intoxication, after drunkenly fighting with his ex-wife. He was booked and released the same day.
Honesty, Bud, congrats on making it this far without overdosing on heroin or religious fanaticism. You’ve done alright in my book.
The five-foot-three Faustino filed for divorce from his wife since 2003, Andrea Elmer, in February of this year. Some of his more recent projects include 2006′s genre-redefining opus Puff, Puff, Pass, 2005′s High Hopes and 2001′s Killer Bud. Faustino is set to take on the role of Banquo in the Royal Shakespeare Company’s production of Macbeth this summer. Except that’s totally not true. He’s pretty much set to smoke weed all summer.
It’s a good day to be Heather Locklear. Denise Richards, who took up with her (ex-) best friend’s ex-husband before the ink was dry on the divorce papers, has officially split from rocker Richie Sambora. Richards’ rep confirms that “Denise and Richie broke up two months ago.” According to a friend of Richards (she has friends?), “they didn’t want to make it public because they lived through public divorces and it was very painful.”
Um, very painful for whom? Very painful to the spouses you dumped five minutes before you jumped into each other’s pants?
The couple reportedly still remain friends, with Denise even flying across the country to attend a funeral for Richie’s father, who deid of cancer on April 20. “She took the next flight – a red eye – to be with him,” says Denise’s friend (she has friends?? They must not have husbands).
I thought I had covered the Lohan stories for the day (it was my turn) but fresh off the presses is this:
AP New York – Lindsay Lohan and her mother have been sued by a freelance photographer who claims the “Georgia Rule” actress hit him with a car in the West Village.
Photographer Giovanni Arnold claims he “sustained severe and permanent personal injuries” when he was struck by the BMW on March 13 on Ninth Avenue between 12th and 13th streets.
Nice! Check this out though:
Arnold was in front of the BMW when Lohan put it in reverse and then in drive, throwing him on the hood and then the ground. (Lohan) stopped to check on Arnold before leaving.
What a heartless bitch she is with the checking on him! And I’m sure he was totally not infringing on her driving space because photogs are nothing if not boundary respecting.
I don’t know who to hate here. Lindsay for going out every night of the week and essentially creating herself as a gossip queen? Or horrible guys with cameras that stalk people?
It’s a close call but right now I hate this Arnold guy more. He never made Maxim’s Hot 100.
It’s been at least six hours since I’ve reported or thought about Lindsay Lohan so my internal bell is going off like crazy.
Luckily I have not one, but TWO Lohan related stories to impart to you today.
First off, Kelly Clarkson was approached by her record label to cover a Lindsay Lohan song. Now if that’s not a bad sign for your career I don’t know what is. I mean, it’s not like Lohan has set the pop charts on fire has she?
“My label literally sent me a Lindsay Lohan track from her last album and wanted me to record it for my new album,” Clarkson, 25, tells MTV News.
I’m not a Clarkson fan (too much Guarini in me for that) but I can see Kelly’s point here. She’s already really toeing the line as far as street cred goes, I can’t imagine the fun DJs would have had with her covering a LL song. Oh wait, I can imagine. It’s a lot of fun they would have been having. Kelly wisely vetoed the notion.
Next up, Lindsay Lohan has topped Maxim’s Hot 100. This is certainly good news for her career as it again proves just how seriously people take her looks, body, et al. One funny blurb about the list:
Ashley Olsen, half of the mogul acting twins, placed 37th, while sister Mary-Kate didn’t make the cut.
Nice! Mary-Kate, you are well on your way to being that other Hilton sister. Which, all things considered, is not a bad thing at all.
See you in a few hours Lindsay!
Eric Dane celebrated his cover for the May issue of Men’s Health last night in NYC. He brought along his stupid wife, The Noxzema Girl. I thought Dylan McKay’s enemies took care of you twelve years ago, bitch.
Sara Ramirez made an appearance, too.
Ty Pennington was in New York Monday night to help launch his new magazine: Ty Pennington
Is Gay At Home. Yes, Ty, “at home” is a good place for you these days. A much better place than, say, behind the wheel.
To add to the randomness that is the most recent month of Ty Pennington’s career, the second-most famous person present, after Ty, was Aida Turturro of The Sopranos. Figure that one out, kids.