Click here to win a treasure trove of blind items designed to gnaw at your tabloidy little brains. All right, don’t click—just enjoy.
What quirky soul singer can’t get through a single day without a hit of Ecstasy? What star insists he and wifey are clean, though he recently bought a kilo of coke off a dealer in the Bronx? What performer publicly gushes about how perfect his girlfriend is, but he actually thinks she’s a user-slash-migraine? What former sitcom star is a sapphist who dates a member of a lesbian punk band? What out lesbian star is still closerthanthis with that closeted lesbian star? (And by the way, that floppo director is the closeted star’s latest beard.) What entrepreneur’s daughter aborted a baby because the child’s father remains the world’s biggest druggie? Who else had an abortion and not the non-hypocritical procedure they said it was?
What multimedia personality is convinced his wife didn’t have breast implants (but she most certainly did, honey)? What quirky author’s son is supposedly prone to sleepwalking, during which somnambulation he might just nibble on his father’s esteemed wee-wee? What performer’s daughter was brought into a hospital with a burn mark, while mama seemed so wasted that the medical staff started wondering just what hideousness had transpired? What once-cool movie lead was spotted stumbling down Sunset Boulevard, squatting on a fire hydrant and acting so far gone he didn’t even notice the passing tourists taking pictures?
What New York ballplayer never strikes out while donning drag and (separately) having Latin boys service his trouser bat? What former club owner who was living in Grand Central now has a home and has made some amends with at least one relation? (Yes, I throw in heartwarming items now and then for good measure.) What mouthy macho actor had sex with that troubled ex-starlet and elegantly remembers, “Her vagina is looser than the Grand Canyon”? What same ex-starlet once said to another guy she’d brought home, “Did we have sex last night?” and got the reply, “No, I didn’t fuck you because you wouldn’t have known what was going on”?
What superstar can be such a prick that everyone on one of his movie sets wore T-shirts for the director’s other movie, in order to show solidarity with him? What TV-turned-theater performer is a big old princess tiny meat? What popular r&b singer says she’s 24, but she’s really—horrors—29? What famous girlfriend is disliked by her doctors, whom she rudely keeps waiting while she chats on her cell? Who got off the hook on drug charges partly because someone backed him up on the stand, but the guy now privately says he lied? Which notables have come up in two items each?
What announcement bizarrely preceded Bea Arthur‘s one-person show last week? (“Welcome to the Helen Hayes . . . I mean the Booth Theater.” But then came Bea, who slayed ’em, whether singing Weill or saying Jerome Robbins was vile. It’s the gayest show in town, by the way.) Who recently broke character to chew out an audience member? (The Producers‘ Matthew Broderick, who, in the middle of his “I’m hysterical!” shtick, admonished a front-row patron, “You can’t videotape the show!”) Do you honestly believe that Nicole Kidman didn’t know the Oscar nominations were coming out that day? Who’s a real Academy wondergirl? (Kate Winslet. She and Titanic costar Gloria Stuart were the first duo ever nominated for portraying the same character in the same movie. Well, Katie’s done it again. She and Judi Dench have gotten nods for playing Iris at different ages. I want her to play the young—I mean, old—me, so I’ll get nominated!) What are the five most annoying sayings of recent years? (Free answer: “Not a problem,” “No, you dih-int,” “Get ur freak on,” “Those are my peeps,” “My bad.”)
Moving on—not a problem—what ex-Voicer has a new book called Advanced Sex Tips for Girls? (“I’m a menopausal girl,” she tells me, “but still a girl.”) It’s Cynthia Heimel!
And what girl comic swept into town to play Caroline’s, promote her A Space Goddessy album (sold on Laugh.com), and wreak havoc on the local studpuppies? It’s the petite flower, Judy Tenuta, who told me, “Everybody’s so blatant in New York. This woman came up to me and said, ‘Goddess! Please look at my twin girls!’ I said sure. And she opens her blouse!” No, she dih-int.
Who’s Judy been opening hers for? “I was dating Robert Downey Jr.,” she claimed, “but we broke up when he found out I wasn’t a pharmacy. I was just at Nathan’s,” she went on, “selling a foot-long to Monica Slutinsky. She was ready for that!” Tenacious Tenuta claims she’s also hung out with Winona Ryder, mostly at Saks. “She was taking a mink coat,” said Judy, “but that girl was interrupted.” Her bad.
Uninterrupted, the lusty comic’s career keeps taking new twists. “The lesbeterians like me now,” she said, beaming. Maybe they think she’s Paula Poundstone? “Well,” she said, “I am good with toddlers.” No, she . . . you know.
You want a problem? When 9-11 happened in the middle of Fashion Week last fall, everyone ran around screaming that style didn’t matter anymore and priorities had to be seriously revamped. Well, there they all were last week, scrambling for front-row seats and gift bags as if the WTC had just been a bargain boutique. Of course, so was I—but I was the one who said we should stick to the shit we do as a way of cementing our democracy. And frankly, I only went to one show—Marc Jacobs—choosing instead to hit the clubs and fashionably enjoy my own statute of liberty. And what did I learn? That the once hellish Heaven has finally clicked with new promoters and a fabulous Saturday night college gay party (though I’m a little old for it—I’m 24). It’s a three-floor chicken coop of young, multigender, ambi-pamby, touchy-feely merengue and pop dancing. Get ur freak on.
Finally, getting her clothes off is Tiffany, the ’80s teen whose bubblegummy cover of “I Think We’re Alone Now” shot to No. 1 back when Britney Spears was making sand castles. Now she’s a 30-year-old single mom who’ll be showing her petite flower in the April Playboy, opting for a timeless glamour motif because, “I didn’t want to look like a stripper.” (I did.)
The road that got Tiff into her birthday suit is as curvy as a corseted Playmate. Last week, she told me she took 10 years off after her chart-toppers and “chose to be a normal person” and raise a son. The tabloids said she was doing drugs and booze, and though she admits to that, “it was only before I was pregnant. I never had the chance to be a kid. I was out working—and when I was home, I tried to make up for lost time. But I never had to go into rehab,” she reminded—not even for her mall hair!
Intoxicated by a renewed passion for music, Tiff anticipated a second career wind two years ago when she released The Color of Silence, a comeback album Billboard said was “thoughtful, intelligent, and full of grace.” It got great reviews, she says, “but my name shut the doors” and radio greeted it with the sounds of silence. Maybe if she had a last name? Nah, she says, “bottom line, I am who I am.” So Tiffany’s stood her ground, stored her frustration, and gone for the booty shots, “and it’s definitely going to work for me. You can’t look at those pictures and go, ‘Oh, she’s 14.’ ” People will cheer—I think she’s not alone now.