My quest for exclusive celebrity dish took me to South Beach this weekend, though that foulest of fabulons, Mother Nature, thwarted all of my attempts by hurling hurricane-like downpours into the usually sizzling Miami night scene. Thus, the Gloria Estefan-owned Cordozo Hotel and restaurant were peopled only with oak varnish-skinned, thong-wearing nobodies, and the News Caf», the deliciously inexpensive dive for celebrities like Madonna and Cameron Diaz, was overbooked with gadflies and beach drek. (I was modestly entertained by the elderly man in the red thong whose meds were clearly kicking in as he twirled gaily in front of the restaurant shouting, "Yeeee-hah!")

I also looked for Michael Caine's swank restaurant at Lincoln Road, but the sudden pummeling rains forced my companions and me to dine instead at the fluorescent monstrosity known as Gelateria Parmalat. (Who knew that genetically engineered gelatin could be so tasty?) And don't even ask me about my experience at Ingrid Cesares' nightclub hut Liquid. Let's just say that the Miami glitteratti impressively makes do with very little!

Meanwhile, I suspect Mrs. Estefan, the godmatron of Miami, is reading my columns. She's just announced that she'll be filming a CBS special to promote her new album in Atlantis, the spacious Paradise Island resort that I visited eleven months ago almost to the day. The boys of 'N Sync and Marc Anthony will be joining her for this lush tropicanical soiree. My advice: stay away from the stingray tank if you're drinking rum runners. Those things can smell Captain Morgans from a mile away.

Anyway, my Floridian excursion wasn't a complete washout, as I did get a few pictures of myself in various unconscious poses in front of Versace's mansion, and I had the driver zip us past the throngs of protesters at the house of Elian Gonzalez' relatives. Personally, I say we bypass Cuba entirely and send Elian straight to Hollywood! He could fill the following vacancies:

1) the replacement for Kathy Lee Gifford
2) the replacement for David Duchovny on "The X-Files" ("The truth is out there Scully! And I want to take a nap!")
3) a season regular on "Friends" as Monica and Ross' delightful cousin Oliver!
4) a marionette-like jokester sitting on the lap of Bruce Villanch (Waylon Flowers-and-Madame style) on "Hollywood Squares."

It's silly to waste this photogenic tot by sending him back to his island kingdom; why, the camera hasn't loved a face like that since Garbo!

Bizarre Fame Triangle

Did Matt Damon break up with Winona Ryder when he found out that she's slept with Mark Wahlberg?

That's just one thought being bandied about by Hollywood insiders as to why the goofy duo reportedly broke off their relationship. Yet when you hear exactly why Winona sped to bed with the "Three Kings" studlet, you might not blame her.

Seems that Matt is seriously obsessed with Marky Mark, in many of the same ways his Mr. Ripley was fascinated with Jude Law's Dickie. Both of the four-letter Ms hail from Boston, and Matt has always reportedly been concerned with Mark's rising popularity as an actor because Marc's more of a "guy," while Matt -- let's face it -- sometimes makes Natalie Portman look like a WFW wrestling star.

Matt's been so interested in the career of the brother of NKOTB frontman Donnie Wahlberg that the New York Post reports he's been tracking Mark's travel itinerary and even his dinner arrangements, all to get clues to his next movie in his professional and, now, personal affairs.

Reportedly, the obsession became so severe that Winnie met Mark in Los Angeles in an effort to smooth out the situation. Instead, Winnie found herself being smoothed over by the testosterone charms of the former underwear model in his bed at the Argyle Hotel! Unable (or unwilling) to conceal this tete-a-tete, Winnie told Matt, who must have gone berserk. (Visions of smacking Mark with a boat paddle must have danced in his mind.)

Now, however, the two are on vacation together in an effort to sort through their problems, but the damage seems too great to patch up, now that Winnie can compare Matt and Mark in many, many ways. Both press camps are keeping mum on the whereabouts of the duo, though wherever he is, I'll bet Matt isn't looking forward to this summer's Wahlberg vehicle "Perfect Storm," which features a good hour of Mark in wet articles of clothing.

Personally, I'm rooting for Winnie to get with Mark; this icon of fragility could use a bullish sort of man to snap her out of this ditzy haze she's been in recently. And Matt, you know you always have Ben ... and me.

Lara Flynn Boil

You'd think it would be Lara Flynn Boyle's friends telling her to dump her elderly beau Jack Nicholson, right? In fact, it's the other way around. Apparently, friends of the dry, sarcastic old star are worried that Jack is blindly enamored of Lara to such an extent that she's controlling his life. The two met last year at a party and have been love bunnies ever since, obviously weathering a blowout during the millennium celebration in Washington D.C. During that altercation, Lara apparently stormed from the Mayflower Hotel where they were staying with all of Jack's clothes in tow to spite him. (Gee, dear, why don't you just pull his hair or hit him with one of your toys?)

Considering the sleazy control Jack seems to hold over the "Practice" star as exhibited at recent award functions, it's odd that Jack's peers would find fault with the less-powerful star. In fact, Lara's spokesperson is crying foul, saying these "friends" were "just jealous" because the poorly aging legend had bagged him a sexy gal. Sounds as good an excuse as any. And who are these friends anyway? Peter Fonda?

More Eerie Old Guys And The Young Girls Who Love Them

Looks like Milla Jovovich has also been bitten by the geriatric love bug. New York Magazine reports she has flung cutie Jeremy Davies into the loser bin in exchange for monolithic rock artifact, Mick Jagger. Her spokespeople deny that she's moved on, though the two have been seen in intimate embraces. Poor Jeremy didn't stand a chance...

Meanwhile, Mick's past knock-ups are also enjoying the spotlight this week. Luciana Morad, the model from Brazil who successfully proved that her last pregnancy was a co-production with the large-lipped Rolling Stone frontman, was stirring the cocktail of New York nightlife last Wednesday with another music man, Cypress Hill's B Real. She claims he's not a love interest -- damn, cause they sound like a fun pair -- and proudly announces that the music of the Rolling Stones "scares" Mick's love child.

Morad and B Real, by the by, were most notably seen at Hugh Hefner's bash for his dumb bunnies/twin girlfriends Mandy and Sandy Bentley at the Playboy Lounge. Other slobbering stars on hand to ogle Hugh's impossible accomplishment were Vince Vaughn, Jay-Z, Tommy Lee, and Tobey Maguire. (What on earth was he doing there?)

Sightings

--Friday and an unidentified (though terribly cute) companion dined next to the disgustingly adorable Sarah Jessica Parker and Matthew Broderick last Sunday evening. After the companion's allergy attack, Sarah dove into her purse searching for Claritin. Coming up Claritin-less, she offered up Advil! How sweet is she!?

--Ricky Martin, in no hurry to stave off those gay rumors, fashioned a poofy wig to his head and sang backup for Elton John during a rousing chorus of "Disco Inferno" at a Carnegie Hall benefit. He was joined in equally kooky headgear by confirmed heterosexuals Sting and James Taylor. Meanwhile, confirmed homosexual Elton John was seen a little earlier in the day with his boytoy David Furnish purchasing pajamas at Burberry's. Wheeee!

--Kirk Douglas, surrounded by the toast of young, snobby elite, was seen at hot Chelsea nightclub Aria. Has he gone mad? Was he table dancing with the rest of the room? I'm afraid he was only there to catch some of the mad spinning of his deejay/convicted cocaine felon grandson, Cameron. I didn't know the legend fancied the sounds of drum'n' bass?!

--The world almost lost one of its foremost talents when a restless flowerpot threw itself to its death right in the path of Christina Aguilera's blond bob. The singer was talking to the unusually-moled Latin entertainer Enrique Iglesias at the afterparty for the VH1 Men Strikes Back concert, when the miffed flora container struck the "Genie In A Bottle" pixie. Fortunately for her (and us!), the diminutive diva-in-training was unharmed. No word on whether the party's other guests -- like Jenna Elfman and Susan Sarandon -- helped Chrissy pick the dirt out of her hair.

--Legendary Internet pin-up Christian Bale, so terrifically creepy in "American Psycho," showed up at quaint Union Square hangout Pop to join his co-star Chloe Sevigny and celebs Liev Schreiber, Toni Collete, Samantha Mathis and Bret Easton Ellis for cocktails to celebrate the film's success

--At swanky eatery Nirvana, Goldie Hawn was seen getting her fortune told. And what did the soothsayer tell her? I'm guess it was, "Your eyes will get bigger and more saucer-like."

G-Mail

"Gregoire, while my best Gal Pal and I were on our way to LA for the wrestling world's greatest extravaganza of the year, Wrestlemania 2000, we had a layover in the wonderful city of Detroit (gag!). We were on the people mover heading to our gate when my Gal Pal says, "I think that's Joe C." I had no idea who she was talking about because I do not keep up on the world of Pimp Rock.(Just wrestling!) [Dear reader, totally love you, but SCARY.]

Well, when we got to our gate and were waiting for our white trash/guilty pleasure vacation to continue, our little section was suddenly surrounded by screaming prepubescent girls in track pants and tiny tanks. They were swarming around none other than THE Pimp Rocker himself, Kid Rock. Joe C. is the 3'9" midget in Kid's band. (He is really that little as we saw when he walked by our seats.) [Kid] seemed really nice, if not a little dopey, and signed autographs for everyone. He did end up being on our plane, but we only got a glimpse as we were ushered past first class and into the back with all the other cretins. Turns out he was going to LA to film a video."

I love when superstars take to the friendly skies with the rest of us "cretins." Why, on my flight back, I swear I saw Ned Beatty in first class. It wasn't he, I was relieved to discover. I mean, I'd hate to think he could afford first-class anymore!

"Gregoire, What was up with Aguilera's lip-synched performance on SNL this past week? She was booed. What is up with her?"

Well, did she have any potting soil or any fern fronds strewn in her hair? Could be a concussion...

"Gregoire, mon ami, do you not see the hidden truth behind Courtney Love's odd dietary habits? French fries and champagne? That's as strange as pickles and ice cream! She must be preggers!"

My darling, the only thing Ms. Love is pregnant with is rampant excess. Don't be confused by Court's occasional bad girl indulgences. The more fresh-faced-as-a-Marie-Claire-cover she becomes, the more nonsensical her "bad girl" behavior gets. Four years ago, it would've been French fries and vodka. Ten years ago, she would have forgotten the French fries.

"Gregoire, look, okay, you are soooooo lame to be trying to dis my beloved 'N Sync. First off, don't make fun of them, and what do you not like about Justin? He is the cutest, hottest guy in the world and to me, you are just jealous. Okay? Get a life and grow up!

Matchbox 20 is so not even ANYTHING compared to NSYNC!!!!!!!

And I JUST GOT TO SAY THAT I AM A #1 FAN OF 'NSYNC AND I KNOW THAT OTHERS AGREE WITH ME, TOO! I LOVE YOU, JRT AND 'NSYNC!"

Dear reader, I'll let the band know of your passionate love when I see them later tonight at the massage parlor.

Until Matt Damon duets with "The Funky Bunch,"

Gregoire

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