August 1, 2000
Some people relax over the summer. But, when you're managing an international celebrity-spotting competition on top of your regular responsibilities as gossip clearinghouse/uberlord of sleaze, who has time to rest? (Well, okay, I do. If you were on Fire Island, you probably tripped into me, my iMac, and my tumbler of daiquiris on the beach. I apologize if I called you names.) Back here at the HoJo, the buzz has reached a deafening pitch. First of all, we have the star-studded conclusion to Glam-Quest 2000, the celebrity-sighting contest with sex appeal. (Momentarily exhibiting loss of memory and forgot the rules? Click here before venturing further.) I even have a fresh, heaping load of reader sightings to ring out the competition in these pages. Plus, the scoop on the marriage I fought 'til the bitter end, the union of Bradley and Jennifer. But first...
Tearin' Up My Ears
That deafening pitch I mentioned earlier? Maybe it's just the tatters of my destroyed eardrums, ruthlessly plundered by the voices of 20,000 high-pitched screams at the 'N Sync concert last week at Madison Square Garden. That's right, my friends, I braved the final New York show of this funky-looking boy band in order to sift through the crowd and find the stars spotted throughout. And from my extremely fortunate vantage near the front row -- seats any 10-year-old would have killed her younger brothers for -- I could quite easily point out the famous concert goers, like Ananda Lewis (who also appeared in a bizarre video during the concert exclaiming, "'N Sync rocks!"), Carson Daly (who's taller than he appears on TV, though his head is big... like Macy's-Thanksgiving-Parade-float big), and a lovely-looking Brian McKnight, who, curiously, was on his cell phone during the entire show!
The concert was like a big, gay car accident. Hydraulics, fireworks, confetti, and flames. So many flames!! The boys, noticeably tired as it was their fourth concert, danced and sang (and lip-synched) nobly, but, well, they have nothing on the Backstreet Boys, that's for sure. The Boys had floating boogie boards; the Syncers hung briefly on puppet strings and wore what appeared to be "glamour hobo" costumes for half the show. As they pumped their pelvises to the absurd choreography, they sang all their hits (and, garishly, many non-hits like "Space Cowboy" and "Digital Getdown," songs which would not have passed through the stool of MC Hammer, much less a respectable boy group!) whilst on the very brink of exhaustion.
Poor Lance Bass! At one point, it really looked as if he was about to twirl right into the ground! Luckily, he was propped up by a hydraulic which lifted him twenty feet in the air! (Maybe they should eat Powerbars or something; I just heard Lance Bass bought a Krispy Kreme donut shop in Orlando and stocked the Syncs' dressing rooms with boxes of the fried, fattening treats.) As for individual performances, Joey, the one that looks like a New Jersey garbageman, fared the best, as he was on "home turf." Justin, however, was certainly exhausted from partying with his gal Britney Spears. Brit kept Justin out until 3 a.m. Wednesday night at Chaos, the reformed gothic club that Leonardo DiCaprio frequently haunts. Spies saw the pair making out at their private banquette and then dancing in a less synchronized manner than they do in their shows. By three, however, the two got into a bit of a spat about where to go next, though eventually the two spunky Mouseketeers left together.
Other reports claim that Britney was more than sore at her adorable little Monchichi. Some claim that the songstress was completely soused. In fact, one photo-happy patron was thrown out of the club when she tried to take a picture of Brit with drink in hand. A bottle of Absolut sat at the Brit's table, but the bar's owners naturally claim she wasn't drinking. They even claim she sported the bright pink underage bracelet. Apparently, all the underage models and superstars who frequent Chaos agree to wear the loud, clashing paper jewelry. I mean, you've seen them in all the society pictures, right?
Object of His Affection
Okay, okay, I know that despite having all the right information (including location and number of guests) last week, I vehemently denied that Brad Pitt and Jenny Aniston were getting married in Malibu. And now here we are, on B and J's third full day of wedded bliss, and you're asking, "Gregoire, too many gimlets last week?" Absolutely not, my pets! I just have a gut instinct that I truly hope is wrong; in fact, I do hope that Brad's bachelor-heady days are over and that he's ready to settle down. Well, Brad, there's no finer gal than Jen, I tell ya! The ultraprivate ceremony was held at the cliff-side home of producer Marcy Carsey at sunset. The bride, doused in silk by Lawrence Steele with Manolo Blahnik sandals, looked predictably breathtaking according to the friend-of-the-friend-of-the-friend of one of the wedding guests. (Everybody had to sign confidentiality agreements; the house was heavily guarded and, strangely, my own invitation was clearly lost in the mail. So much for shared heritage, hmm, Brad?) And Brad wore hay-scented overalls, a bucktoothed mouthpiece, and straw hat. In my dreams. In real life, he wore a Hedi Slimane tuxedo and a well-coiffed blond 'do. What other famous folk were in attendance? On top of the Friends crew, Cameron Diaz, Edward Norton, Selma Hayek, Morgan Freeman, Tom Selleck and David Spade were also privy to the exclusive ceremony. Hey, if Spade can get invited to these things, why can't I?
On a related note, this past Saturday, I went to a moving-out shindig of a dear friend who's leaving her fabulous Financial District flat. Well, seems one of her roommates was extremely good friends with Gwyneth Paltrow (some college connection, I didn't ask) back in the days when Gwyn and Brad were dating. As the housemates were moving out, they were giving away free things that had accumulated in the apartment. And what item greeted me as I perused the free booty? The former bicycle of Brad Pitt, missing one handlebar, strangely uncomfortable looking. I mounted the bike at literally the same time Brad and Jen were exchanging vows. Unlike Brad, however, I discarded the object I was presently conjoined with and went to make a drink. If it's not good enough for Brad, it's not good enough for me!
Oh, I don't know, isn't Wolverine from Western Canada? He made a little money on the fist-fighting circuit, according to the "X-Men" movie. Didn't look so bad, either. Isn't it better than playing state fairs? Hey, wait, you all don't have state fairs up there. Do you have province fairs? If so, do you have those weird tattooed people running your Ferris Wheels, like we do down here?
Why, that's monstrous! I was a huge Peter Billingsly fan -- if one can be called such -- and it greatly disturbs me that he can't get any work and that when he does, he loses it because of unsanitary methods of clearing his olfactory areas. Peter, seriously, I loved you on "Real People" and in those Hershey's ads and in what is obviously your masterpiece, "A Christmas Story." I'm always looking for assistants here at the HoJo. Send me your resume, love.
Glam-Quest: The Home Game
Of course, we have celebrity sightings every week here at the G-Spot, but for the past month, I've been pitting all of you against each other, in the same spirit of fierce, brutal competition that our New York and Los Angeles Glam-Quest teams have been going at it. I've saved some of the hottest "amateur" sightings for this week, as you will read...
Dear God, more teen pop stars! The only one whom I haven't mentioned yet this week is Christina Aguilera. Ack! There I did it! Anyway, see this week's current Glam Quest game to see the other movie that's captivating famous filmgoers, also starring an aging action heartthrob. As for you, dear, that's 10,000 per celebrity times a Group Multiplier (in this case 2x), and a reminder that American history doesn't stop with Mel Gibson. You can learn more about the American Revolution at your local library! Total points: 40,000.
Whoa, calm down! Would you have been less ticked off had the "Here On Earth" cutie simply cut in front of you in line or, worse, had you do her grocery shopping for her? Now long ago, I, too, temped at Sony (for one day), and I do realize that one can go mental there. But, doll, let the li'l starlet get her basket! Total points: 10,000.
I know that we love to tease Ethan about his basic hygienic problems, yet that's what I've always kind of liked in him. He's the antithesis of Britney Spears. You could describe Brit as spunky, but never skunky. It's the opposite for Ethan, and anything opposite of Britney is going with the natural flow of the universe, if you ask me. Grunge it up, Ethan. Oh, and here's 10,000 points, times an Eye Contact Multiplier for you, love. Total points: 50,000.
I hate to disappoint you darling, but the man has money and power and -- given his recent handgun troubles -- I'd suspect that a few people actually DO care enough to approach him. He is a wee rap star, though, isn't he? Here's 10,000 for Q and 10,000 for Puffster. Total points: 20,000.
You know Travis is the Next Big Thing because all the stars flock to them. Travis is the new pashmina! I heard that Gwenyth and Ben Affleck were all over each other at a recent LA show, perhaps the same one as you and these other fabulons. Call it 10,000 per star, plus a 5,000 Buffy Bonus Booster (because we love Xander and Co. around these parts). Total points: 55,000.
Ooo, this is almost tawdry. Now, I've always had a soft spot for Tiffani-Amber. How fortunate that you got to actually got to see those soft spots! Unwrap 10,000 points, times a Nudity Multiplier (5x). Total points: 50,000.
Wow! Our New York team could have used your hawkeyes last week! Two gorgeous ladies in two gorgeous days! (Yes, I called Carly gorgeous. James Taylor had to see something in her, right?) Take 10,000 points for each celebrity times an Eye Contact Multiplier for Liv, plus 3,000 for actually having a "facialist." (I just let my Korean manicurist do it.) Total points: 63,000.
Saving the best for last. For you see, dear reader, Anna-Nicole Smith is my favorite celebrity... of all time! Barely famous, extremely shameless, and fluctuating back and forth in girth and appearance, Anna-Nicole has really given me memories that will last a lifetime. (Oh, how many pictures do I have of sweet Anna, barely contained in a cleavage-revealing gown, too disoriented to stand?) Sounds like she's cleaned up, however, and she is gorgeous, at any size. Enjoy 10,000 points times a Fellini Multiplier (4x) (a cartoonish amusement riding a cartoon-themed ride at an amusement park!), plus all my remaining, unused bonus points from the Glam-Quest game! You win!! Total points: 6,721,890!
Next week, we're back to "normalcy" here at the G-Spot, whatever that means.
Until Brad Pitt bikes the Tour De France on a rather familiar looking conveyance,
Breakup Girl created by Lynn Harris & Chris Kalb