Wardrobes of the Warped
Dear old Shazza Bone once said - at the height of her so-called fame in Basic Excrement: "I have a vagina and I have a MENSA membership -and no-one wants to hear my opinion." Or something like that.
She is probably still correct on both counts because not only do most of us want her to keep her mouth shut, we're all pretty relieved that we're not subjected to any open crotch shots either.
And yet she's now 'forgetting' to slip on a bra before she lunches at that tiny little hideaway that no papparazzi has ever heard of, The Ivy. In a see-through top, with breasts eerily perky for a 48 year old. I bet MENSA are so proud of her current strategies for maintaining whatever's left of her 'acting career' and/or public interest. At the very least she could have stuck two AIDS ribbons on her nipples!
Speaking of 'acting, apparently that's what A Night At the Hilton is pictured here trying to do.
Yep, every boy's favourite Do-Her Doona is living on the edge and starring in a film that's the envy of the two C/Kates - Blanchett and Winslet - 'The Hottie and the Nottie'.
Word has it that Sir Ian McKellen lost the major supporting role to Robert DeNiro, and that was only because he insisted on re-writing parts of the original Shakespearean text, and Scorcese didn't end up directing the film because Steven Spielberg falsely told him that Ivory Merchant had won the gig and were going to shoot the tale with a 19thC, genteel focus.
Naomi Rumble has obviously thrown one too many telephones at the help again and they've taken revenge by cutting out chunks of her dress.
And there's nothing she can say about it, because they stuck superglue in her lipgloss tube as well.
Is this the real Madonna or a wax statue of Mads in her latest reincarnation - the psycho tranny nanny?
Part Mary Poppins, part Erotica and more than part stretched, injected, inflated and oily - not unlike a pole dancer on a rare visit home to her in-bred relatives, trying to convince them that she's a school teacher who helps the blind and the needy. Or the seedy....
Dear old Gwen's never been one for the natural look, has she? There's something creepy about a new mother with such a tight white hair do, cartoon-lined eyes and slashed red clown lipstick.
She's all tarted up for a night doing fellatio favours at the local bus-stop and yet her poor child's trussed up like a retarded tea cosy.
This kind of child abuse must be reported!
Shitney Beers, however, takes motherly dressing down to its most extreme level and has either remembered that she has two young sons (even though both are technically too small to be subjected to a McDonald's happy meal) or is going to take out her gum, stick it on the dashboard and inhale them both herself.
I feel as though I should know who this Jay Mohr guy is - the creepy agent from Jerry Maguire and a love interest for Jennifer Aniston in the oscar-worthy flick Picture Perfect?
Anyhoo, it's the human xylophone he's holding hands with who is scaring me. Her chest rivals that of Kate Bosworth's or, if browner, could be a stunt-double for any Somalian woman trying to breastfeed a baby at the refugee camp.
Jay mate buddy old chap, she doesn't need clothes, she needs chips, chocolate, meat, milk, and lard - NOW.
MK lovey, sweetie, darling, snufflepuff - if you don't want your photograph taken, either:
a) don't go out at all and instead get your help to bring in everything; or
b) return that goat skin rug back to my father's circa 1976 billiard room right now and give my Mum back her gold vinyl clutch that I borrowed for my first Blue Light Disco in 1982;
c) dress as though you're mature and not a mental OR be honest and tell us all why the walking ugg boot look is the one you're going for