I am notoriously horrible at picking out fake breasts. I can tell in the case of someone like Kendra, because those monsters defy all the laws of physics, but in the case of Jessica Simpson… I don’t know. Are they real? Are they fake? I’d guess real, the photo here is older, but it’s the most boobalicious shot I could find.
Simpson tells fashion designer pal Michael Kors, who writes about her in the August issue of Harper’s Bazaar, on newsstands July 24… “my boobs are real.”
Ok, fair enough. That’s not really the fun part though… here’s the fun part.
As for whether she prefers singing or acting, Simpson says, “In my music career, there have been moments of failure, and with acting, I haven’t had that yet. But music is opening up my heart and every emotion inside of me.”
Um… What?? She hasn’t had acting failures? Who amongst us has seen Employee of the Month? Who thought, regarding The Dukes of Hazzard, “Wow, this is something special.” The answers are: No one. And no one. She truly hasn’t had anything even resembling success yet in her acting career. If we defined success as “the planet Mars” the you’d have to say her career so far has been “shitty.” Hmm, that may be a poor analogy. But you get the idea – which is basically “does not compute.”
Perhaps she’s crazy. Or maybe her Ex hitting it from the back with that Vanessa chick in a hot tub got to her. Whatever the case I hope that interviewer did a 70′s style spit take when she said that.
Also, her sister got an entirely new face.
PS- If you missed me during my sabbatical I apologize. I went out into the celebrity forest and found out what was truly important to me: and that was being a real class A jerk-off.
I wrote one less than a week ago. About Britney’s one and only true love, her drug counselor, John Sundahl, who credits Britney’s love with keeping him alive through his recent bowel surgery. And if that kind of love can’t last, I don’t know what hope this new guy has.
For anyone who’s keeping tabs, it’s her bodyguard. His name’s Damon, and apparently he’s been playing daddy to her boys and taking her to plays and going with her to church and blah blah blah gag me. If you must know:
On Sunday, he attended church services with the singer and her two sons. Damon carried Sean, 22 months, into the church (while Mom held a sleeping Jayden, 10 months) and then comforted the toddler when he started crying.
The prayer session capped off a week of wining and dining for the pair, including a July 4 candlelit dinner at the Four Seasonsâ€™ Windows Lounge in L.A., after which, he slept over at her Beverly Hills pad.
On July 5, the pair hit a showing of the musical Wicked (they left after 45 minutes) and, later that evening, drinks at L.A.â€™s Chateau Marmont hotel, where Spears, 25, giggled and kissed her guy as he affectionately touched her face.
What’s funny to me is that the picture Us Weekly’s running with this story is of Britney and the guy everyone was referring to as John Sundahl last week. I mean, he’s wearing the same damn outfit “John Sundahl” wore in all the pics everyone ran of “Britney’s new man” last week. So I don’t know if everyone was wrong last week, or everyone’s wrong this week, but this guy cannot be both John Sundahl, drug counselor with benefits, and Damon, Mr. Bodyguard extraordinaire.
It’s starting, you guys! Beckham-mania is prepared to conquer the final frontier: the United States of America.
Posh & Becks are on the cover of W magazine this August, and the interview promises to be very revealing (almost as revealing as the pictures).
Victoria finally addresses those pesky rumors that she’s actually a robot: “I think people are really going to see me for the first time. I think they have this impression that Iâ€™m this miserable cow who doesnâ€™t smile. But Iâ€™m actually quite the opposite. When youâ€™re out there, theyâ€™re trying to get pictures up your shirt, down your top. With all the flashes, itâ€™s as much as you can do to just find your car. Iâ€™m going to try and smile more for America.” She also notes that “weâ€™re not out to be the most famous people in America. Weâ€™re not looking at the move as boosting the brand. Weâ€™re us and weâ€™ve got our kids. Weâ€™re not aware of a lot of the madness going on around us. We kind of keep to ourselves, really.â€
David discusses his relationship with Tom and Katie Cruise, claiming that “Tom has never even talked to us about [Scientology], much less tried to push it on us” and talks about the impact he’ll have on soccer in the U.S.: â€œI do believe I can take it to another level. I wouldnâ€™t have taken up the challenge if I didnâ€™t believe I could have that effect.â€
He also talks about his relationship with Victoria, saying that the first time he met her, he â€œturned around to Gary (his teammate) and said, â€˜That one there, thatâ€™s the girl Iâ€™m going to marry.’ I trust my wife 110 percent. When people say, â€˜Victoria wears the trousers,â€™ Iâ€™m happy.”
The ESPY awards were held today at the Kodak Theater. I don’t know who won. I don’t know who was nominated. I don’t even know what types of awards are given, but I certainly hope Kendra Wilkinson’s breasts warranted at least an honorable mention. Is there an award for Most Basketball-Like Body Feature?
Danica Patrick was there, and it’s cool to get to run pictures of her, because, if you hadn’t noticed, I don’t know shit about sports, and I know less about racecar driving, but I do know that Danica Patrick has taken a man’s world by storm while still managing to look fabulous, and that’s always award-worthy in my book.
Jamie-Lynn Sigler dropped by, and I have no idea why. I’d guess she was fucking a football player or something, but I’m pretty sure she’s still with Scott Sartiano, so I don’t know why she needed to show up at this. I certainly hope it wasn’t to show off that dress, because that would have been an enormous error in judgment. Unless she can tell me whether Tony Soprano got shot in that diner, she’s of no use to me anymore.
And Maria Sharapova, because I know a lot of you like to masturbate to her.
Amy Winehouse’s Back to Black has officially gone platinum. Amy, on the other hand, has officially gone batshit. [Bree]
Paris Hilton is wearing a shirt with her own face on it. They should make men’s pants with Paris Hilton’s face on them. That would make more sense. [Celebslam]
Diddy is having sex with everyone. [Bossip]
What’s your workout soundtrack? [Pajiba]
Star magazine doesn’t think Nicole Richie’s body can handle a baby, either. [popbytes]
Katharine McPhee: still way hot. [Glitterati]
Okay, I finally looked at these Bai Ling nipple slip pictures, and this chick has a ginormous nipple. That thing really does look like it could poke your eye out. [Drunken Stepfather]
Anne Heche: still motherfucking crazy, now with more property destruction. [Cele|bitchy]
Josh Duhamel says that Fergie would have been too hot for him in high school. Okay, Josh. Take that sentence. Reverse it. Apply it to today. Then call me. [The Blemish]
Ha! I never thought I’d have the opportunity to say “XYZ” in that context ever again, much less to Dave Navarro.
Davey left Teddy’s last night with a mystery blonde and an open fly — can anyone ID this chick?
Apparently Lindsay is spending her time at Promises trying to rehab her relationship with Samantha Ronson as much as she’s dealing with her drug problem, but hopefully she’s doing better with the drugs …
According to Star magazine, Lindsay and SamRo have been sending extremely charged MySpace and text messages back and forth ever since Lindsay checked into rehab. “Babe, if I donâ€™t have you in my life then I should just go die,â€ wrote Lindsay one night. â€œYour [sic] all I have to live for, babe. I want to marry you and have children with you. I need you to live!â€
Wrote Samantha: â€œYou still have me. Iâ€™m here for you. With you.” Although Samantha was on-hand to spin the records at Lindsay’s recent 21st birthday party in Malibu, she has reportedly been encouraging Lindsay to find a partner who can help her stay sober, as Samantha struggles with drug problems of her own. Lindsay gets upset each time Samantha tries to end things.
â€œI love you,” said Lindsay. “You love me. Why donâ€™t we fuck and make a family â€¦ Babe, donâ€™t leave me like this I FUCKING LOVE YOU!â€
Lindsay sends Samantha a “virtual kiss” each night from rehab. â€œGo to bed babe,â€ she writes. â€œI love you â€“ [signed] Lindsay Ronson.â€
Samantha’s part of the reason Lindsay’s even in rehab. They met on the club circuit three years ago, and their relationship quickly became more than just a friendship, and the Memorial Day weekend drunken car crash Lindsay was involved in came as she was having a drunk and loaded argument with Samantha, supposedly because Lindsay refused to call Samantha her girlfriend.