I’ve run out of cow-spine fritters, so let’s just crack open some blind items and make a guilty feast of it, shall we? Normally, every single such item is about Courtney Love, but I guess she’s been less naughty than usual because this time she doesn’t even get a subliminal mention. So who am I talking about with these queasy queries? Well, just lick some hallucinogens off the floor and start guessing, with tongues out and minds akimbo. And don’t ever become an item yourself. And so . . .
Which carb-faced superstar in his twilight years likes to prowl around Internet chat rooms for clandestine gay hookups? Which offbeat movie actor never really broke into the big time once word got out that he’s so intensely into that creepy religious cult? (And no, not the creepy religious cult everyone else is into.) Which British ex-wife shouldn’t mind having gotten the old dump? (For a while, she supposedly became lovers with that very famous daughter.) Which messy ex-starlet spread it for that then TV comic in the early ’90s, though she also made time to make time with a female drug dealer? Which longtime Broadway trouper says he’s straight, but isn’t? (Yes, I know that could be every single person on Broadway, including the ushers, but this guy goes out of his way to say it.)
Which self-important society scribe simply won’t write up an event if that male society scribe is invited? (She’s that threatened, or maybe just that annoyed.) Which last-of-the-old-time-Hollywood-stars—no, it’s not Liz Taylor—spends tons of moolah procuring elaborate hair and makeup designs for herself every day of the week so she’ll look flawless when she’s ultimately found dead? (Wouldn’t it be awful if she croaked, all messy, in her sleep?) Which scandal lady broke up with that incendiary actor partly because he was desperate to have group scenes involving him, her, and hookers, who he wanted to ram dildos up his butt? (I guess that’s where she draws the line.)
Which mega-entertainer slept with that music mogul along the way, thus guaranteeing a much needed early career boost? Which ’60s sitcom household name used to hire girls to pretend to defecate into a frying pan—you must believe me on this—only to make them put chopped liver in there and serve up a pretend doo-doo feces omelet? What kind of wuss wouldn’t go for real doo-doo feces? Why not at least try the old glass-table trick? And how did he feel about dildo-wielding hookers?
But I digress: Which super-cool entrepreneurial titan struck a deal to produce that itchy indie director’s next movie, only to pull the plug when the director, big surprise, spent the entrepreneur’s $150,000 on other things? Which family-TV producer has a wazoo of ex-boyfriends running around complaining about his small equipment and one li’l ball? Which matinee idol once ran around “Lake Homo” with a considerably younger stud? Which less-popular-than-before singer didn’t help her career by demanding writing credits on songs she didn’t write, thereby driving most of the good tunes away? Which weird ex-superstar has been addicted to MS Contin for five years, and in fact had to be attended to by a doctor when he passed out from it (and vodka) last week? Is it any wonder he’s on a suicide watch?
Who’s effeminate and dead and managed to convince the world he was a hetero family man, though he had oodles of gay tricks and was mean to them, by the way? Which famous sports lady is an Olympic-caliber cheapo, or maybe just didn’t realize that 75 cents is not a healthy tip after a 45-minute cab ride? Which cute, young soap star-turned-film actor is so sexually compulsive there isn’t a single “seven”-or-more guy in New York that he hasn’t bedded—though of course the second he got a part in that comedy, all his gay Internet profiles were gone-with-the-buttplugs? Which singer with a regional accent is laying it on a bit thick? (No one in his family seems to speak with any accent whatsoever.)
Which gay-mafia member seriously told his trainer, “If you get me a boyfriend who’ll stay with me for at least a month, I’ll give you $10,000”? Why doesn’t he ask me (to find him a boyfriend, that is, not to stay with him for a month)? Which gay-faced schmaltz singer quite memorably used to hang out in queer bars in his hometown and even had his profile up on a gay website when he started his ascent into the public’s trash-cultural psyche? (No, not the same website the ex-soap star was on, though I bet they’ve met.)
This is an old one, but which adorable ’80s film actor from Heaven Help Us (no, not Donald Sutherland) and Fright Night (no, not Amanda Bearse) has been bottoming out since the mid ’90s as “Sam Ritter” in gay porn flicks like Cock Pit, Transsexual Prostitutes, Guys Who Crave Big Cocks, and the immortal Black Men, White Men? (Free answer: Stephen Geoffreys. And I’m proud of him, honey.)
As long as we’ve started using names, what’s it like to act in a Woody Allen play? (Well, as Annabelle Gurwitch—who was cast in Cock Pit, I mean Writer’s Block—writes in Show People magazine, “Woody gave me line readings for each of my lines. . . . He said to me, ‘What you’re doing is terrible. Don’t ever do that again, even in another play.’ . . . He told me, ‘You look retarded.’ ” And oh yeah, he fired her. Concludes Gurwitch, “I just couldn’t believe that Woody Allen was ruining my Woody Allen experience.”)
What movie that’s winning gay awards was supposed to center on a lesbian relationship, but the director chickened out in order to make it more palatable, as a friend of hers told Asian News International? (Bend It Like Beckham. No wonder I couldn’t stand it.) Who’s a big, old liar with pants afire? (Cinema Village. Its ad for The Secret Lives of Dentists says star Hope Davis is a “Golden Globe nominee—Best Actress Drama.” In reality, she’s a supporting actress nominee—and for another movie! But in any category, she rules.) What did Jacko‘s latest crush, Aaron Carter, tell me about the “giving tree” dweller himself last year? (“People might say you’re good, but you can always push it to the limit. Even Michael Jackson, he can be a lot better.” Hear that, Michael? Send bigger Bentleys.) What’s the shocking result of my recent readers’ poll about which dead celebrities we miss more than others? (Katharine Hepburn beat Buddy Hackett and Johnny Cash topped Fred “Rerun” Berry, but both only by a sliver. Of course a few people said they miss none of them.)
What was Beige like last week? (Insanely fabulous, especially when Pet Shop Boy Neil Tennant leaned over to tell me, “I just saw the Radio City Christmas show and loved it! I kept thinking the camel would take a shit, but it didn’t.”) So I shouldn’t call the camel for an omelet? What did Kevin Kline ad-lib when a cell phone went off during a speech of his in Henry IV? (“I have heard the chimes at midnight.”) How did Hairspray composer Marc Shaiman get back at Fred Ebb for various on-the-record disses? (He wrote in a broadwayworld.com opinion piece that Kander and Ebb’s The Visit could finally come to Broadway if the rich Ebb shelled out the dough himself, or maybe he’s too “old school” to realize that. That paragraph, by the way, was quickly removed, at Shaiman’s behest.) And lastly, do you really think Canada is responsible for the latest mad cow outbreak, or did it all start when Nicole Richie had to manually inseminate a heifer for The Simple Life?