I understand. It's never easy to hear the words "blithering," "drunk," and possibly "dancing topless" in a long, detailed paragraph associated with Britney Spears--especially when they're possibly followed by "finally stumbled to the unisex bathroom" and/or possibly "the loudest explosive diarrhea that anyone had ever heard." And I'm not even saying that I strongly encourage authorized check-writers from the various celebrity-oriented media outlets to contact me immediately, regardless, for the exclusive. But a million honey-flavored kisses to "I'd appreciate it if you didn't use my name" for the alleged alleging, just the same.
Meanwhile: Do you have any clue what those other weird whisperings are about? Those bristling with such seemingly disparate elements as Shannen Doherty's ex-husband Rick Solomon, the quote "He's a complete liar and a scumbag," and scandalous, scandalous soon-to-be-released homespun porn featuring a famous prostitute with a bad blond weave and a Hilton in Paris (again) or some toweringly weird crap like that? I think I do, but I'm blocking it all out.
And now someone somewhere is trying to convince us that the real reason Ben Affleck called off that wedding to what's-her-butt Lopez was because Señorita Nosy-Britches hacked into his computer and spilled her jealous little self over every e-mail in his inbox (including a mysterious communiqué to some hot actress that he supposedly starred in Daredevil with) and he busted her snoopy ass, and I, for one, think they ought to get their myriad fucking stories straight.
Speaking of things busted and possibly gay: Justin Timberlake caught his own grandmother spreading salacious rumors about his ostensible heterosexuality. Indeed, 70-year-old granny Sadie not only blabbed to a herd of snoopy, snoopy reporters that Justin and Cameron Diaz aren't really in love but, even worse, that Justin would never consider marrying Cameron because she's "too immature." Justin cornered the old broad and told her to hush her cute little head or else, well. You know. Trouble. Boy-band mafia. Believe it.
Speaking of loose lips in famous families: Ashton Kutcher's mom revealed that Demi and Ashton are planning to get married in exactly six months. By then Ashton should have his driver's permit, and Demi will have bought an RV. I'm just guessing.
Lastly: Poor, darling Jennifer Love Hewitt suffered a terrible urinary infection and a questionable haircut, laid a wreath on the grave of the Unknown Soldier in Washington, D.C., got stung by a bee, and barfed. At almost the exact same time. Last week, in Washington, D.C. Like I just said. Whatever.
