This past Tuesday (Oct. 30), while I was putting the final touches on my Halloween costume, two of my favourite acts from days gone by put out new records.

One act — Britney, bitch — put out ‘Blackout,’ a poppy, techno smackfest with a craptastic cover I could have made on Photoshop three years ago. The other was the Backstreet Boys, the boy band that includes Nick Carter, my one true love and father of my babies.

We all know the drama Britney has been living lately: her yo-yo custody battle with K-Fed for her children, her inept displays of driving resulting in banged up cars and paparazzi, and her lacklustre promotion for ‘Blackout,’ which has so far included a dazed interview by Ryan Seacrest and half-assed performance on the MTV Video Awards.

It seems things are getting worse for Britney. She’s being sued by former manager Johnny Wright, a purveyor of pop who says Brit Brit owes her commission. Her spending habits are also on public display today as released court records have revealed Britney spends $16,000 to look that crappy each month. Also revealed: she spends over $100,000 a month on ‘entertainment,’ over $60,000 a month on two mortgages and $20,000 a month on spousal support (ca-ching).

I’ve been spinning ‘Blackout’ for a couple days now and have to say a couple of the songs have great beats and catchy melodies. Before you go out and grab the CD, though, just remember Britney’s making more than $730,000 a month for doing shit all. Guess she needs our $20 to foot her monthly entertainment bill, though.

Life for the Backstreet Boys has been markedly calmer, though they’ve also had battles during their latest hiatus. Oldest member Kevin Richardson flew the coup (though the melodies on their disc, ‘Unbreakable,’ are as strong as ever) and a sex scandal involving former boy band guru Lou Pearlman blew up. Apparently there was one member of each boy band he managed who Lou would give special tongue baths to. No doubt Topanga is pissed that Lou got more of Lance Bass than she did.

From what I’ve heard of the new BSB disc, it’s great. Fellow andPOP writer Jen Fong, being the Backstreet Boys purist that she is, dearly misses Kevin’s slow-burn vocal solos, but there are plenty of harmonious songs to make me happy!

I’m also excited about the Spice Girls reunion. Their greatest hits disc, bedazzled and only available at Victoria’s Secret, will prelude a world tour. Ziga-zig-ahhh!

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It was pretty naive of me to think it couldn’t get any worse. Britney Spears cheated on the god among men Justin Timberlake, dropped out of her Onyx Hotel tour, married Kevin Federline, got knocked up not once, but twice, got divorced (again), went bald, attacked a car with an umbrella, showed her cooch in public, was accused of severe drug and alcohol use in her custody battle and fucked up what could have been the comeback of my time on the MTV VMAs. What’s a hit and run charge on top of all that, really?

Yes, it seems Britney has been charged with fleeing the scene in a vehicular incident in L.A. Apparently, while driving without a valid licence, she hit a car in a parking lot on Aug. 6 and took off. The charges each carry a $1,000 (American or Canadian currency) fine and a maximum sentence of six months in jail. That’s a grand place to squeeze the last drops of talent juice from her career.

Britney was photographed hitting a black Mercedes-Benz while leaving a parking lot in her own Mercedes. Britney got out to take a look, said “Oops, I did it again,” jumped back into her car and sped away. The owner of the Mercedes-Benz, Kim Robard-Rifkin, filed a police report on Aug. 9 after telling paps at the scene that she hoped Britney would take responsibility for the bender. Um, Kim. You do know this is Britney Spears right? This girl doesn’t take responsibility for the vomit she wakes up in after a night of reckless and mom-appropriate partying. She blamed her lame-ass performance at the VMAs on a not cute mic. She ain’t gonna own up to this.

“It was simply like my car didn’t matter to her, my inconvenience didn’t matter to her,” Robard-Rifkin told CelebTV.com.

Duh.

An arraignment has been set for Oct. 10. Britney won’t be ordered to attend because her crimes are misdemeanors. The court of life and fans would like a meeting with Britney, however, as her crimes has been both stupid and grossly indecent.

I think Britney really should consider naming her new album “OMG Is Like Lindsay Lohan Like Okay Like” as is suggested on her website. This pretty much reflects the maturity and sense of responsibility Britney has. And I’m not joking – this is suggested on her official website. Other suggestions include “What If The Joke Is On You” (unlikely at this point), “Down Boy” (it’s been down since you wandered a public washroom barefoot), “Integrity” (too easy), or “Dignity” (see previous).

Actually, Brit needs to sit down and update the list. LiLo is actually doing much better than Brit Brit these days, with the gardening and the separation from Paris keeping her under control in rehab. An alternate title could be “OMG Like Take A Guess At How Much Longer This Like Train Wreck Is Like Going To Chug On.”

But I don’t want to bash the Britters that much. I really don’t want to be the victim of an emo YouTube vlog from some kid with mascara running down his face hiding under a blanket. Remember to take a tissue under there with you next time, guy.

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I love my celeb broads, oh yes I do. They look good for whackjobs, plus they make me feel better about my own sanity.

Anyway, I may be out of the loop but does it seem like Paris really has changed her ways? I really thought so, but I think blowing pot smoke in people’s faces goes against her vowed nunnery.

How Nicole Richie had enough weight on her bones to get knocked up is beyond me. And why someone didn’t snip Joel Madden’s jewels long ago is just as big of a mystery – didn’t we learn anything from the K-Fed procreation debacle over the past two years?

Seems she has gotten out of her DUI trial for now. Nicole’s lawyers came up with some bull about a key witness not being available, so her date to appear in court has been pushed back to August. How convenient that she’ll be too preggers to appear in court by then.

How excited am I that my favourite spice, Victoria Beckham, is coming to this side of the pond next week and that she’s bringing glorious hubby David with her. As a little preview to their arrival, Posh and Becks did a steaming photo shoot for W magazine. Excuse me while I take a cold shower. Click here to go see the photos. Click. Now!

What has my hot mess Britney been up to lately? Looks like she’s binging, in trouble with child services and working on a new single for the umpteenth time in the past year. Yep, nothing new there.

And here’s a shout out to those Canada’s Next Top Model broads. Yes, thanks to Jay Manual, I’m addicted to the Canuck version of my American favourite. Here are the fingers crossed for Tia or Cori to get the boot tonight and for my girl Rebecca to take it home.

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Despite the snow out west and the heat in central Canada this past week, summer is indeed upon us. I know this by the amount of teeny flesh I’ve suddenly been inundated with while shopping this past week.

US Weekly’s pushed this by publishing a survey listing the hottest bikini bodies and six-packs in Hollywood. Jessica Alba and Kelly Slater were named the top chick and dick, respectively. Drew Barrymore, Evangeline Lilly, Jake Gyllenhaal and Zac Efron were the others listed as summer-ready in US Weekly’s survey.

If you’re sitting there furrowing your forehead at these choices, you aren’t alone. I’m furrowing now. There are plenty of sexier (and more famous) celebs out there who are ready to go nearly-nude this summer.

Ladies first. Nicole Scherzinger – a.k.a. the lead Pussycat Doll –is part Hawaiian, Russian and Filipino and all gorgeous. Top it off with her kick-ass attitude and smokin’ dance moves and it’s clear Nicole will be providing her own heat this summer.

It really doesn’t matter what you say about Lindsay Lohan. It doesn’t matter that she was accused of DUI this weekend, doesn’t matter that she pulled a Nicole Richie a couple years ago and did the skeleton, doesn’t matter that her acting skills are overshadowed by the drama that follows her. LiLo is sexy. Maxim thinks so. I think so. She’s got more fashion sense in her coke hand than any other young Hollywood bimbo and will be keeping us entertained all summer with hot shenanigans.

My other favourite hotties on the girls’ side include Cameron Diaz, Jessica Simpson, Jessica Biel, Tyra Banks, Katherine Heigl and Rachael McAdams.

The sexiest guys out there right now? No one, and no, I mean no one, comes close to Justin Timberlake. Singles from his sophomore disk FutureSex/LoveSounds will tear up charts and get booties shaking this summer just like “Sexy Back” did last. Strip away the ridiculous talent and you’re still left with pure hunk. J.T.’s gotten hotter as the years have gone by and if, in the unlikely event his next album should flop, buddy can always take his abs into the modelling business.

T.I. will also be making your summer a sizzler. His new disc T.I. vs. T.I.P. will be out in July and he’s already made my temperature rise along with Akon and DJ Khaled in the new song “We Takin’ Over.” Considering you could grate Parmesan on his stomach and swoon over his baby face for hours, T.I. is easily one of Celebrity Noose’s top hot summer bods.

Other guys I think will steam up the season and beyond? Pirates of the Caribbean’s Orlando Bloom, 300’s Gerard Butler, James Franco, David Beckham and Daniel Craig.

Agree with my choices? Disagree? E-mail me at nicole.feenstra@andpop.com and let me know.

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I wonder if celebrities care what their fans think of who they date. I am looking in the direction of one of my fellow andPOP writers while I type this.

She (who wishes to remain anonymous because even she realizes how ridiculous she is) has a little “thing” for John Mayer. This means she hosts listening parties for his emo rock in public that I have to go to and that she’s seen him more times in concert then I’ve actually seen her lately. The other day, over MSN, I was jibbing my friend over how John Mayer’s face when he’s ripping a guitar solo is the same as his scrunch face when Jessica Simpson is licking his junk. She then proceeds to tell me how some fans are so mean to Mr. Mayer: holding signs at his concerts saying he should dump Jess, spamming fan boards with their disgust at the blossoming love, etc., etc.

She then tells me that while she also disapproves of the relationship, she is totally supportive of whoever Mr. Mayer dates, she trusts him and that she would never confront him about his relationships. He can date whom he wishes. And while she’s typing this long, long spiel out (I wish I saved the conversation), I’m thinking: does John Mayer really give a fuck whether his fans approve of his relationship or not? Does any celebrity really give a fuck about what their fans think of what they do?

Not likely.

If they cared, Britney wouldn’t have married K-Fed. She’d still be with Justin. If they cared, Nick and Jessica would likely still be together, as would Ryan and Reese. And if they really cared, Jake and Heath would give in to their homosexual tendencies and hook up for good.

Now, I have to admit that I’ve had my own fangirl fantasies. Nick Carter and I were engaged back in ’99. And don’t celebs deserve it? Don’t celebs like complaining about being celebs? Don’t they like their limos and free shit? I’m sure they do. I guess there comes a point when we should ‘grow’ out of our fantasy relationships and delusions of how our favourite actor or singer just knows we are alive. They don’t. Celebrities are childish enough for all of us, anyway.

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Though the weather outside is frightful, do I have some news that’s simply delightful!

Apparently Girls Gone Wild creator and full-time skeeze Joe “Even My Mother Thinks I’m Dirt” Francis was brought into custody in Florida for some complicated fare involving minors, compromising positions, a settlement dispute and contempt of court. I’m thinking this means Joe-Joe may actually serve his jail time and stay off our Spring Break streets for a little while. Now all the have to do is ship Brandon Davis, literally the greasiest man on our planet, off to Alcatraz circa 1963 and we’ll be set as a universe.

Not to waste more space on Joe Francis than I already have, but did anyone see that recent Dateline special in which Francis talked about being robbed, tied, taunted with a dildo and then made to say that he likes gay sex?

“That just is ridiculous to me,” Francis told Dateline. “That somebody’s gonna think the owner of ‘Girls Gone Wild’ is gay? I would have said anything with a gun to my head.”

Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt, my skeezy little friend.

Anyway, let’s move on to some men who are actually worthy of their penises. The professionally delectable Usher has announced he’s jumping on the celeb scent bandwagon and that you’ll be able to spritz on a little Urrrsher by September. Good enough.

And now an interlude of genius with Kirsten Dunst: “I’ve never been a major smoker, but I think America’s view on weed is ridiculous. I mean – are you kidding me? If everyone smoked weed, the world would be a better place. I’m not talking about being stoned all day, though. I think if it’s not used properly, it can hamper your creativity and close you up inside.”

It can also be useful when denying you lack any actual talent and that your boyfriend of many years was actually a homosexual.

Remember way back when Scarlett Johnansson decided the world should know she can’t be monogamous and remember how we didn’t really care? Well the blonde tramplet is going good on her word. This time she’s jumping on Canadian and Alanis Morrisette-escapee Ryan Reynolds. The two were “definitely holding hands” and “were a cute couple” at a New York restaurant last weekend. And, if I may add my anonymous quote to the tale, “no one cares.”

And finally – one more relationship bit. We haven’t heard much from them in awhile, but Ashlee Simpson and Pete Wentz are still very, very good friends. The two were seen kissing at a L.A. nightclub this weekend, gazing into each other’s eye lifts. This, no doubt, was the depression Peen Wentz was talking about in his “blog.”

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It’s time for spring cleaning, no?

Whitney Houston already has this covered. Her speed divorce from Bobby Brown has been approved by a judge in California and will be finalized on April 24. Bobby apparently doesn’t understand that Whitney doesn’t want to be married to him anymore and plans on appealing the judge’s decision. It’s like that ex who won’t stop text messaging even when you habitually refuse to text back. Pathetic.

From one man who is pining away for his true destructive love, to another who is moving back in with his. Sexy, yet slightly flamboyant, Tommy Lee is moving back in with his lobster Pammy Anderson while his house is being “renovated.” Props, Tommy. Of all the reasons I’ve heard guys give for why they should get in your pants, this is certainly a new one.

In other house cleaning news, my precious Anna Faris (that chick from the Scary Movies and Brokeback Mountain) filed for divorce from her “actor” husband, some no-name named Indra. Let me take a moment to ask why Anna Faris isn’t bigger than Britney Spears? If there was ever a sexy, dumb blonde who deserved fame, it’s Anna.

Crazy Mariah “Mimi” Carey thinks she needs to add some more baggage to her life – about 38 Mexican lbs. of it. Mims went shopping at a Mexican orphanage a little while back with her lawyer, and sources say she wants to follow in the footsteps of Mother Angelina and adopt a youngun’ for her own. May I suggest all Mexican orphanages be put on high-alert at this time and given a copy of the “Butterfly” album.

Speaking of Mother Angie, apparently Shiloh, her love child with Brad Pitt, was named after Angie’s brother’s almost middle name. Makes sense to me.

Ah, and love is also in the air this time of year. J.May and J.Simps were out in full force in Australia, “canoodling” for all to see. Now, I don’t like either of these twats, but even I think J.May can still do better than Nick Lachey’s old sponge. What do they really bond over? How tightly their jeans are hugging their crotches?

Know what I just remembered? In the upcoming Shrek the Third movie, Justin Timblerlake provides the voice of Artie, a young King Arthur. Ooo, I just got a little excited. J-Fly was out this week handing wads of cash to valets and looking steamy. The usual fare.

This is my token Canadian tip: Alanis Morrisette. She’s not so cute, right? Right. I have to respect her though, because I have friends who are in love with her in ways you wouldn’t understand. Anyway, she dresses up as another leather face (Fergie Ferg), parodies “My Humps” and is the rage of the Internet. Oh, Internet. Watch the video below. I think I’m actually in love with Alanis’s version video, but don’t tell my friends. You don’t want no drama. No, no, no drama. No drama.

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Today was my first flip-flops day of 2007, which means it’s spring, which means it’s almost summer, which means it’s movie blockbuster time!

Some exciting news about the upcoming The Simpsons movie – 7-Eleven variety stores will apparently re-brand themselves as Kwik-E-Marts in a promotional agreement with the long-running cartoon sitcom. Eleven 7-Eleven stores across the United States will change up their store fronts to mimic that of Apu’s beloved quick stop and feature some of the products seen, like Buzz Cola and Squishees. The Simpsons movie will finally descend on us on July 27 – hopefully signalling the closing chapter of the show while it still retains the last shreds of goodness it has.

Other movies to take in this summer? Watch out for Spiderman 3, Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer (despite the god awful title), Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End, Shrek the Third and Ocean’s Thirteen.

Talking about sexy summerness, E! has released three promotional posters for the new round of The Simple Life, starring those reunited BFFs, Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie. At least I think they’re reunited. Is it just me, or has Paris been kinda quiet lately? I’m sure this has nothing to do with the Associated Press ban on the heiress. The only worthwhile tid I could find on Ms. Hilton is the recent discovery of the troll who stole her virginity! Sadly, it’s none other than Randy Spelling, younger brother of that crack job known as Tori. How Paris remembers the first of thousands of men she’s lain is a testament to how intelligent she really is, though. Y’all better recognize.

I bet you thought a 50-foot Michael Jackson robot roaming the Las Vegas desert, shooting off lasers, was something you’d only see in your nightmares or while hopped up on shrooms. Well, it seems Wack-O is planning a mad comeback and said robot firing off said lasers would be part of his Vegas stage show. No doubt the robot will eventually develop a mind of its own and take off across America looking for baby robots to touch in inappropriate places. That, or he’ll be the only one in line for this summer’s Transformers movie.

Canada’s princes (the grandchildren of that unnecessary queen figurehead) have been out makin’ daddy proud this past week. First Harry literally half-crawled, half-fell into his car, drunk off his arse in the early morning hours. The ‘razzi have since accused Harry of pushing them. Aw, where’s the playground monitor when you need him? Now, photos have surfaced of William grabbing some random chick’s boob. Kate Middleton is going to be so pleased. And really, don’t these boys deserve Canada’s tax dollars? Bloody right.

It seems Justin Timberlake is determined to commit career suicide. First that cheesy Grammy Moment contest (thank goodness even JT himself realized it was pure cheese) and now he’s set to record a duet with ex-lover, ex-pop star and ex-sex icon Britney Spears. Apparently, “the pair are planning to visit a Los Angeles recording studio this week with producer Timbaland to re-record the Motown classic ‘You’re All I Need to Get By’, originally a hit for Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell in 1968.” Does this at least mean I can tape my Britney and Justin dolls back together? Anyway, upon downloading the song I’ve realized it sucks balls in the way Britney’s “comeback” will and that this story is probably bullshit anyway.

Finally, in a sad testament to the actual worth of the Canadian JUNO awards, CTV has announced it will air a tape-delayed version of the Junos in order to broadcast the American reality show The Amazing Race at 8 p.m. EST. Now, while the JUNOS have about as much worth as the American Music Awards, the fact that a Canadian broadcaster is bumping a live Canadian program in favour of a taped American reality show is about as ridiculous as Britney Spears winning a mother-of-the-year award.

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Do celebrities really serve any use besides providing us, the common folk, with an intense sense of satisfaction in knowing that our lives aren’t in perma crash-and-burn mode?

Surely all those “good works” celebs like Bono and Brad Pitt do are more than just conveniently executed publicity shots. Right? Surely seeing photos of a degenerated Nicole Richie has stopped some teeny bopper from sticking her finger down her throat. Right? Celebrities are useful because…

… they promote hydration.
Celebrities think they need to get out and promote things. For them, this promotion of things is still considered work. Mind you, celebrities show up to work in Versace and diamonds, but hey, maybe that should be a new fad for us ordinaries also.

And, yes! Being a celebrity automatically makes you a good ambassador! Take the fabulous Sarah Jessica Parker. For reasons unknown, SJP was pegged to hold the glass of water on the UNICEF carpet during World Water Day. Looking at these photos fills me with discomfort. Luckily, the look in her eyes seems to betray the same uncomfortable “how the hell did I end up here” feeling.

… they can make you feel OK about your neediness.
Why does effing Britney Spears insist on jumping from relationship to relationship? What is up with Jenny Lopez’s marriage to her back-up guy? Well, you see, celebrities are needy. They need read love and affection. They are like the rest of us emo girls sobbing to our journals on another loveless Friday night.

Take Dallas Austin’s Christina Aguilera claims. Apparently bitch got down and dirty with Dallas and his friends and bought his assistant (her now-husband, Jordan) a Rolls Royce Phantom! Dallas and his buddies even had an uber creative nickname for her: Crazy. Oh, Christina. Searching for love in all the wrong places with all the douchiest men. And here I thought you had more smarts in your little blonde head than Britters.

… they prove you do have a better fashion sense.
Why do celebrities think they can get away with wearing the most ridonkulous outfits. Wandering town dressed like the cat lady down my street isn’t a good look for anyone. Likewise, wearing what you only should in a pool to a club isn’t proper. And then there’s the ones who run out of the house with greasy hair up in the ponytail, smeared makeup under the eyes and Juicy track pants. Seriously, you have the cash. You’d be wise to put a live-in stylist on the payroll.

Since when were fishnet panties and an apron an appropriate “outside the bedroom” wardrobe choice? No, Nicky Hilton, just because you’ve got millions doesn’t mean you can wear what you want. It actually means you should be making appropriate clothing choices because you will be caught on camera and you will look like an idiot.

Add to all this the fact that us ordinary people manage to look more than half-fabulous on a daily basis without airbrushing, the blessed reality that our privates won’t make it onto Access Hollywood, that we can volunteer our time or adopt or donate to a charity without the free world questioning our motives and that we won’t go crazy by age 25, and I’d say it’s not us who’s getting a raw deal.

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I’m waiting for the day when athletes are as paparazzi-worthy as the half-assed celebs gracing the cover of Star at my neighbourhood fresh Dominion. Double the drama, double the fun, I says.

Indeed, the line between sports star and celebrity is already blurred. Just a couple weeks ago my celeb senses were a-tingle when news broke that Quasimodo-hot New England Patriot Tom Brady forgot to wrap his wang and in the process knocked up actress Bridget Moynahan (the bitch in Coyote Ugly). But oh, does it get better. Brady then dumped his woman of three years, preggers for three months, to skip off to Paris with supermodel Gisele Bundchen. Of course it’s been speculated that Bridget ensured she’s get pregnant when she figured out her and Brady’s relationship was headed the way of the Patriots’ Super Bowl run. Meh, might as well have stayed with her, Brady. Would have saved your image, if not your MVP status.

And now, the sexiest athlete walking our planet, the only man who can make a greasy half-pony hot, David Beckham, is preparing for havoc when he descends in America this summer to play soccer for the L.A. Galaxy. Just look at the press his knee injury is creating. It’s not like it even matters what he does for Real Madrid at this point. Plus, my favourite Spice, Posh, a.k.a. Victoria Beckham has gone blonde and will apparently star in a reality show about her move to Hollywood with her Beckham brood. All together now – cross the fingers in hopes of night-vision cameras in the bedroom.

Back in the news of the pregnant – Tori Spelling, who looks like she should be popping out whatever evil is growing in her soon, celebrated the opening of her and her sperm donor’s inn, “Chateau La Rue.” Yes, Tori Spelling has a bed and breakfast. You aren’t the only one asking WTF. The Oxygen Network (who?) is producing a series about the inn called Tori and Dean: Inn Love. Again. WTF? The Beckham’s with a reality show, yes. Tori Spelling? Not so much. A reality show about Tori Spelling running a freakin’ bed and breakfast? No.

Oh, and this is an example of the lap of luxury Tori’s kid can expect to live in when it pops out.

You can tell it’s almost spring because all sorts of celebs seem to be procreating. Someone better be watching Kevin Federline very closely. Buffy herself, Sarah Michelle Gellar, either has awful posture or finally let sexy, yet dorky Freddie Prinze Jr. impregnate her. Remember Freddie in She’s All That? Apparently their relationship is all that. Then again, I thought their teen-flick clique members Ryan Phillippe and Reese Witherspoon were also forever and look how that turned out.

Buffy’s TV sister, Michelle Trachtenberg, has apparently scored herself one of the hottest, most lust-worthy pieces of ass in Hollywood. I don’t know how you did it, it really boggles the mind, but high-fives, Michelle Trachtenberg. The 21-year-old actress landed Sex and the City‘s Smith, real name – Jason Lewis, 35. The two were spotted at the celebrity version of make-out point: Chateau Marmont in L.A. So insanely random. So insanely jealous.

Jennifer Aniston and the hotter-than-Pitt Vince Vaughan knows what’s what. If you can’t make a relationship work, at least be friends. And, if that’s going along well, why not upgrade to friends with benefits?

So, kiddies, I hope if you’ve learned anything from this week’s Celebrity Noose, this is it: cover your stump before you hump. Don’t be a Brady. Don’t knock up a Tori. Guaranteed Jennifer is letting Vince tap it because he’s smart enough to cover his monkey. Be a Vaughan. Be. A. Vaughan.

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Hmmm… Since I’m having a Britney-free February (just like the Associated Press is going Paris-free) news seems to be a little slow this week. Maybe the celebs are still on their best behaviour from the Oscars this past Sunday?

Or, at least they were on their best behaviour during the show. After, Helen Mirren blew her nose! and Eddie Murphy took a lesson from diva supreme and Dreamgirls co-star Beyonce and threw a tantrum after he lost the Best Supporting Actor category. Props to J.Hud, though, for winning Best Supporting Actress. Seeing Beyonce’s uncomfortable face during Jennifer’s acceptance speech was reason enough to sit through the 12-hour show.

In other headlines, Anna Nicole apparently died of pneumonia. I call bullshit.

Angelina Jolie: mother to the unloved, Brad Pitt’s sex toy, savior of half of the developing world. And now, wannabe journalist.

A day in the life of Paris isn’t complete without a driving-related infraction and resulting visit from the sheriff’s office.

In attempt to actually create an image for himself, James Blunt is taking a lesson from Paris. Yes, James, I think car-realted mishaps are all the rage right now, too.

Who let Julia Stiles crawl out of the Goodwill drop box she’s been hiding in for the past three years?

Thank God at least one dumb blonde realized Uggs are named what they are because they are ‘effin ugly. PETA-hugging Pam Anderson took scissors to her Uggs because she finally realized they were made from sheepskin. Oh, Pam. I love you. Now, make baby Jesus happy, all you prosti-tots out there, and stop traipsing about with your faux bed hair and Juicy track pants tucked into your Uggs. It is not hot to tuck your pants into your shoes, y’all.

Nicole Kidman is going to appear on Nip/Tuck as a nose job patient. I would have thought she’d be going in to finish her sex change.

My lovers Timbaland, Timberlake and Furtato released the video for their collaborative effort “Give It To Me.” The video is as unoriginal and poppy as the song, which means it will be a hit. Jokes, jokes. I love you, Timbertato.

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So I promised myself I’d have a Britney-free February. But what Britney has been up to is just too ‘effin weird not to discuss.

After some serious, and literal, over-exposure since her split from K-Fed (could he really have been good for her?), I, along with many fans, have gotten more than a little tired of her antics. The parties with Paris. The coochie shots. The random flings. The M.I.A. kiddies. Then, this past weekend, Britney hit a new, disturbing low that I’m pretty sure few people, let alone celebs, have hit before.

The National Enquirer said Britney tried to commit suicide twice this past weekend – once by walking into traffic and once by overdosing on Xanax. The Enquirer says the suicide attempts and the now infamous shaving of the head, were brought on by a confrontation from Federline. He is apparently threatening to take custody of their two invisible children by proving Britney is drugged up. I don’t think that’s anything new, Fed-Ex. After Brit went pantyless, partied with Paris, went bald and then got inked twice in one night that girl isn’t in a mothering state of mind. But I think what we all really should be wondering is where is her mother? Girl is crazy and in obvious need of real help.

Britney tried the rehab route, a la Hohan, but checked out after 24 hours at Promises in Malibu. Who knows what she’s up to at this moment, but there is talk her two homes are up for sale. She probably don’t need the dough, so could Britney be looking to duck out of the spotlight for awhile? Considering we’ve heard her claim she was doing that before with no evident results of it actually happening, I’m doubting this time would be any different.

Anyway, in news relating to “normal” celebs…

Apparently American Idol stars/occasional lovers Ryan Seacrest and Simon Cowell had a little spat on Tuesday’s show. How this is new, when they are so obviously in love, is beyond me. Cowell apparently called Seacrest “sweetheart” to which Seacrest took great offense as Cowell knows he should only use such terms during private time. In other A.I. news, Access Hollywood is reporting past winner Fantasia is lined up to guest sing this season, which makes sense as she isn’t achieving fame on her own, why not go back to the Idol teat? Superstars Jennifer Lopez and Gwen Stefani are also going to make appearances, for reasons unknown.

Peen Wentz, who makes my head spin with sheer emo-poser angst, appeared half-nekked on Rolling Stone. The rest of the guys in that “Sugar, We’re Going Down” band are hidden behind his moobs somewhere.

There is a Buddha! Desperate Housewives will end after seven seasons. Mark Cherry has a soul after all.

Is Kim Kardashian the only person whom a sex tape hasn’t made famous? Seriously – who is she and who cares that she’s suing over it? Unless I’m downloading it, it’s not Pammy and Tommy quality. It ain’t even One Night in Paris quality.

And Buddha strikes again! The creators of Sex and the City are giving me the greatest pleasure I’ve ever known by saying a Sex movie will actually be produced. It’s been reported that all four ladies – Kim, Sarah Jessica, Cynthia and Kristin – have finally signed a contract to make the much talked about, but always delayed flick. I guess Kim finally unbunched her panties and decided to put the fact that Sarah Jessica makes more aside. The writers of the show have signed on for the big screen adaption, so get ready for some amazing Sex.

And, speaking of sex, here is Christian Bale looking mighty delicious in this month’s GQ.

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Dear Christina:

Four years ago, I broke up with you.

I loved Stripped, I got all “Dirrty” at the clubs when it came on, I even cried a little when you won the Best New Artist Grammy back in the “Genie in a Bottle” era. Then you started to look a little like a carrot, dyed your hair noir, wore dresses made of feathers and dubbed yourself “Xtina.”

But now, as I sit here downloading “Dirrty,” I beg for your forgiveness. You have proven yourself to be an artist in a way Britney Spears only dreams to be. You’re still winning Grammys, you have seemingly normal marriage to a guy who actually has a job and now you’re gracing the cover of Maxim looking so smokin’ that I’m a little weak in the knees. Plus, not many people can promote a Marilyn-styled ballad and a club banger with Diddy at the same time and pull it off.

On a related note, I’m trying to have a Britney-free February, so just know that yes, she’s still “working” on that album and yes, she’s still clubbing in bikinis borrowed from strippers.

In the spirit of the most manufactured holiday since Arbor Day, let’s now swing the attention of this week’s Celebrity Noose to the always entertaining love disses and misses of celebrities in honour of yesterday’s St. Valentine’s celebrations.

First up we have sometimes singer, sometimes actress (and successful at none of the above) Mandy Moore out at Disneyland in California with her new beau, DJ AM. Does Mandy Moore realize she can probably do better than the man who has soaked up all Nicole Richie’s diseases?

But I guess even ugly people need love, too. Ugly Betty star America Ferrera got engaged to her film school boyfriend last month. Aw, too bad her ugliness is all a hoax and she’s actually pretty fly IRL (in real life). Her man is also quite the fox.

Former NBA star Tim Hardaway is speaking out on his lack of love … for gays. Yes, in the spirit of the anti-Valentine, Hardaway appeared on a radio show to say he hates gay people and they have no place in the world and especially not in the good ol’ U.S. of A. This all comes after retired player John Amaechi became the first professional basketball player to openly identify himself as gay. Though Amaechi may say the response to his coming out is positive, honest but hateful comments such as “as long as you don’t bring your gayness on me, I’m fine,” by Philadelphia’s Shavlik Randolph, don’t really make me think so.

In other love news, Jennifer Aniston received happy birthday wishes from ex-Vince Vaughan (very happy), Ice-T took his lady of the thighs, CoCo out in NYC for V-Day, and Ms. Tyra went on a date with Mr. Caterpillar Eyebrows.

But, in the end, it’s basically only Jackass’ Steve-O who got a real taste of Valentine’s Day by getting a playmate’s foot to the nuts. Ain’t that the way love really goes?

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I know I’ve already dished this week, but there is so much to be said about Anna Nicole Smith that I feel I have to share it.

Anna Nicole was the first, the original, celeb famous for just being famous. Bet that isn’t something Paris Hilton wants to hear, but in my eyes, it’s true. With such memorable antics as this drunken appearance on a music awards show, she gave today’s celebutantes a run for their sorely earned money.

The rumours have, quite simply, been churning out ever since Anna Nicole was taken to the hospital, and it seems nothing, from the reasons for her death to speculation over how much her daughter, Dannielynn is worth, is off limits. Even the final shots of this former Playboy model being carted into a hospital were caught on tape and sold for $500,000.

Former boyfriend, and the insistent would-be father of Dannielynn, Larry Birkhead released a statement on his website expressing his sadness at Anna Nicole’s passing and saying his daughter Dannielynn is the only thing that is keeping him from losing his mind. I think you already have there, Birkhead. Until a paternity test figures out who that poor, poor child’s real father it, I’d keep your slimy lips closed.

Dannielynn wasn’t with Anna Nicole in Florida when she died. People.com reports the months-old baby is still in the Bahamas, where she was born days before Anna Nicole’s other child, son Daniel, died of a reported drug overdose. Anna Nicole’s mom, who Anna Nicole openly hated on, as in this Entertainment Tonight interview, said she will try to get custody of the baby girl. Dannielynn, if you could run or even understand what I’m saying here, I’d tell you to run. Mommy dearest believes Dannielynn would be better in her custody, for, as she told CNN’s Nancy Grace, she thinks Howard K. Stern, the other possible baby daddy, is responsible for Daniel’s death. Stern was with Anna Nicole in Florida.

A judge has now ordered Anna Nicole’s body preserved during the autopsy to determine her death for reasons of paternity testing. But, as her lawyer pointed out, we already know Anna Nicole is the baby mama, so what’s the point?

Apparently Birkhead and Stern aren’t the only ones who should be concerned about paternity test results. There are a small mountain of other rumoured possibilities. Zsa Zsa Gabor’s husband says he had an affair with Anna, so could be the proud papa. Some other sources have come out and said that her son, Daniel, was actually the dad (umm… effed up much?) or that Anna Nicole knocked herself up with frozen sperm belonging to deceased hubby, oil billionaire, J. Howard Marshall II.

Speaking of Howie Marshall, Anna Nicole, even in death, is wound up in court battles over his fortune. Marshall’s family is still tied up with Anna Nicole in battles over his billion-dollar fortune that could go on for years yet. Anna Nicole married the guy when he was 89-years-old. After a presumably sexless 14 months, he kicked the bucket.

There were plenty of prescription drugs found in Anna Nicole’s hotel room, including Valium and Methadone, and were in Stern’s name. Hmmm. Anna Nicole also had been ill in the days before her death, and no foul play is being considered. The autopsy continues.

So, Anna Nicole may be resting. It just sure ain’t in peace.

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So Canada is getting in on awards season time by announcing the Junos. That’s pretty much all I have to say about that.

In other boring news, little Canadian lovebirds Alanis Morissette and Ryan Reynolds have ended their engagement again. Does anyone freakin’ care? These two were so boring that their first breakup barely registered on gossip radars. Besides, sexy Ry-Ry surely can aim a little bigger than Alanis now that he’s a little more high profile. He once said he liked her because she only took a few minutes to get ready. It shows and that ain’t a good thing.

More proof country singer/jerk Keith Urban is gettin’ a little too Hollywood (no thanks, I’m sure, to his husband wife, Nicole Kidman): he’s suing some painter because he has the same name as him. Well, excuse me, Mr. Urban. Apparently this painter from New Jersey is “is misleading people into believing the Web site belongs to him and is selling merchandise as if it were produced or endorsed by him.” Oh, please, Keith. You aren’t so fabulous that I’m gonna start buying oil paintings. Seems someone’s golden locks are taking over the ol’ brain. No more chemical hi-lights, Keith!

Also, Mr. Kidman’s fugtastic wedding dress won some top wedding dress of the century award. O rly?

My boyfriend, Stephen Colbert, has just had a new ice cream flavour named after him. Yummy Ben & Jerry’s unveiled the Americone Dream flavour from the Colbert line. Will there be more? Perhaps a Taste of Truthiness? First he gets a ‘Shwa holiday, then an ice cream? Lover is on a roll.

Another one of my boys, Akon, is spilling some pretty delicious dirt about Eminem and his baby mama Kim Mathers. Apparently the couple, who have been married and divorced twice, are back on again. “He can’t live with her and he can’t live without her. But they are meant for each other. They are engaged again,” Akon spilled. Aw, he’s her lobster.

Britney Spears and K-Fed are extending their child custody agreement as it seems neither of them actually wants to take care of the kids. I thought the day would never come when I’d say that they may actually be better off with K-Fed. At least he’s working, even if it is in some Superbowl commercial or in a gorey new photoshoot where he fakes dead. Britney, unless you’re releasing that album, you ain’t working hard enough!

P.S. Gossip blogs are all a-twitter over this TMZ video of TomKat trying to get jiggy at a Marc Anthony concert. That ain’t a dance, y’all. That’s a scientologist love-making ritual.

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