The ’05 has sure got off to a flyer, ain’t it? D’Angelo being revealed as a fat fuck months after we gave you the exclusive, Miss Jones clowning a few hundred thousand dead Asians on Hot 97, Hova getting the keys to Def Jam as a thank-you for not falling off, Rumsfeld getting the world’s biggest game of “Risk” as a thank-you for taking the heat (such as it was) over Abu Ghraib, and the real big story: Crunk Juice going triple platinum. So, just to prove–like you needed telling–that in a world that’s getting more stupid by the day, we can still out-asshole all y’all mufuckas, get ready for another of our periodic Louisville Sluggers straight to the grill of entertainment and popular culture.
Oliver Stone hasn’t responded well to the critical and commercial mauling handed out to Alexander. Perhaps that’s why a GB associate and his boys recently spotted him drowning his sorrows in a particularly gully-ass Bangkok titty bar. Ollie told them, “I’ll buy your drinks all night if you don’t tell anyone you saw me here.” What you should have done, Ollie, was send us a case of vodka so’s we wouldn’t write about it when he told us. That’s when ya lost.
Meanwhile, in another, more upscale bar (the Waldorf Astoria, to be exact), another GB associate was enjoying a quiet mid-afternoon drink just before Christmas, only to have his reverie interrupted by a couple of jackasses wearing headsets who marched in and loudly demanded, “Could we please clear the bar for the singer Eve and her party?” Funnier than her being announced as a “singer” was the fact that our boy and the bartender were the only people there. The bartender told them to fuck off and got a $50 tip for his trouble.
Diddy was observed at a Golden Globes after show, politicking with Hollywood producer Brian Grazer (8 Mile, The Nutty Professor). Here’s a summary of their convo:
Diddy: “Yo, Brian! Whaddup?”
Grazer: “Puffy, great to see you!”
Diddy: “Yo, I’m ready. I got it all worked out here (points to his dome). It’s time. Let’s make that happen.”
Grazer: “I’m sure you do…”
Diddy: “Gots it all up here (points to dome again). I want you to keep it on the back burner, but to let you know I’m ready for you.”
Grazer (by now scoping out the rest of the room): “I’m sure you are…”
Diddy: “I’m ready.”
Grazer (edging away): “I’ll keep that in mind…”
Also seen at another GG after show was Courtney Love, apparently trying to stay from under the wheels of whichever wagon she’d just fallen off of. She’s a little thicker now, and, according to our observer, her plastic surgery “looks like it was done by a blind person during an earthquake.” Ouch.
Brother J has been making some power moves of late by getting in good with the Project Blowed camp, setting up his own label, and even putting out some decent material. But the Grand Verbalizer had us checking our watches to see if we’re actually the ones who don’t know what time it is when we heard that he’s just about to sign a distribution deal with Def Jux. Why would the man who was practically the face of Afrocentric hip-hop back when there was such a thing as Afrocentric hip-hop be looking to get in bed with the megahonky super scientifical madness/hip-hop whitewashing force that is Def Jux? Because Rhymesayers didn’t come with a nice enough offer. Seriously. Dr. Yakub, hold ya head.
Mos Def, who used to be a rapper, and Macy Gray, who was never any kind of singer, are starring alongside one another in a forthcoming HBO miniseries. Our man on the set tells us that the lengthy conversations with inanimate objects that Macy is prone to having when she’s, uh, “medicated” are keeping the crew highly entertained. Also, Ms. Cocaine Nosejob herself is starting her own clothing line. Remember those “fantastic” fashions she sported in the “I Try” video? Expect to see them befouling the racks of your more upscale department stores, and expect no price tag to be lower than $150. As Don King (who, come to think of it, might actually be Macy Gray—you ever see them at the same place at the same time? Hmmm…) would say, only in America.
While we’re on the topic of medicated R&B divas, we hear that Whitney is back in rehab. We have to ask, what took her so long? And on whose advice? Her GP, OB-GYN, and the surgeons whose work stopped her B-cups from looking like empty Frito-Lay packets were all happy enough to prescribe around her recreational intake. We think the loss of a fifth tooth must have swung it. After all, it’s easy to forget about brushing and flossing during a five-day bender. Seems her dentist said her receding gums were in so bad a state that realistic dentures might not be possible.
At a Tokyo hotel one morning recently, a GB associate entered the elevator to find it occupied by Sly Stallone and his bodyguard. “Good morning,” says our boy. Stallone stays mute, looking straight ahead. The bodyguard turns to our boy. “Mister Stallone says good morning.”
Remember when Dreamworks was banking on Prozack Turner to be the next Eminem? Yeah, funny thing about that…barely anybody knows who the fuck Prozack is (FYI, he’s the frail white boy from Foreign Legion. No, not DJ Design. The other one.), and of that sliver of population who knows who he is, very few of them actually give a shit about his music. So while Prozack had a blast spending that SKG loot on studio sessions with Pete Rock and Alchemist, the trough done ran dry. The album he recorded won’t see the light of day, Prozack has been relieved of his contract, and now he’s trying to make ends meet by DJing. The snag? He’s got no DJ skills and a crappy record collection. On the plus side, he could join erstwhile Soul of Mischief Tajai for a four-turntable routine done by rappers who are now shitty DJs.
Diddy’s new boy band, B5, has more in common with Menudo than the Jackson 5, if you get our drift.
A story reaches us about Lenny Kravitz’s tour of the US a few years ago, when the Black Crowes were one of his opening acts. As befits the man who fucked and dumped Denise Huxtable, Kravitz acted the asshole at every op, including taking four-hour soundchecks, leaving the Crowes with no time for their own. They responded by deliberately overrunning each night, forcing Kravitz to run into curfew time and incur huge fines from the promoters and local authorities. This was on top of him being the butt of smack-talk from Chris Robinson during the Crowes’ set. After a few nights of this, Kravitz stepped to the Crowes’ tour manager and told him to dead it. He added, “At the end of the day, I’m a nigga from the hood, and I’ll shoot the mufucka.” Once he’d stopped laughing, Robinson persisted in his onstage shit-talking throughout the remainder of the tour.
During a promotional tour for the new Destiny’s Child album, Beyonce and Kelly thought it’d be funny if they didn’t speak to Michelle for a whole day. What’s really funny is that Michelle didn’t notice at all until somebody told her about it the following morning.
Who’s the actor who offered a young guy $150 if the guy agreed to fuck him in the ass with his “best actor” Oscar? And who’s the actor who dumped his long-term boyfriend when he found out that he’d cheated on him with another actor known in Hollywood as “the Staten Island Fairy”? The actor who did the dumping reportedly likes nothing more than to be blindfolded, then play hide-and-seek while being tracked by a musclebound “intruder”. When he’s discovered, there’s a brief bout of wrestling before he gets fucked senseless. We saw what happened to NBC’s Last Comic Standing, so we’re not saying another word.
When she’s at a party, Missy has a guy who walks four or five paces behind her carrying a box. When a GB associate asked the guy what was in the box, she was told, “Bling”. Turns out Missy likes to keep a little extra on hand, so’s she’s always rockin’ just the right amount of ice. Bling goes on, bling comes off. That’s it. Oh, and we also found out that during the wrap party for the “Lady Marmalade” video, she tried to take advantage of Christina Aguilera’s heavily coked-out state with a view to some girl-on-girl action. We never found out if Xtina took her up on it, but it’s taken us about a month to rid that particular image from our minds, so now it’s your turn to suffer.