Kelly LeBrock And Ron Wood?



(image via artfiles)

Kelly LeBrock is, in the minds of many red-blooded Gen X males, somewhat immortal. She was the cartoonish ideal woman in that significant cultural artifact Weird Science, of which Roger Ebert famously said, "If you are 14 you'll love this film, if you are 14 1/2, not so much." Or something to that effect (Averted Gaze). But Kelly, who has since appeared less gloriously in VH1's lamentable Celebrity Fit Club 3 doesn't seem to have the taste in men commensurate to her pop-cultural stature. Her tempestuous marriage to sleazy Hollywood gasbag Steven Seagal -- eew -- is well known. Now, according to Cindy Adams, we learn that there was a fling with leathery modelizer and all-around Rusophile Ron Wood. From NYPost:

"TWO THOUSAND NINE is not start ing off great for Ron Wood. We've already heard - as has his longtime wife, Jo - about ladyfriend Ekaterina, with whom he remains closer than a little boy and his dog.

"... He is - pardon the phrase - deep into this Russian lady, so Jo now figures better a divorce than continued humiliation. The problem is money. Since Rolling Stones concerts aren't being announced, he needed Plan B, which was to be the Faces, a reunion with Rod Stewart, Ian McLagan, Kenney Jones - the surviving Faces bandmates.

"Rehearsals began in Paris but did not go well. The grampas can still make music, but they can't make nice. They can still play the songs but ain't no harmony between them personally. Result? Concert dates aren't being booked.

"Another difficulty. Rehabbed Ron's former manager Nick Cowan just wrote a spill-all titled 'Fifty Teabags and a Bottle of Rum.' It's sex, drugs, rock 'n' roll and Ronnie's affairs, like doing it with plus-size model Kelly LeBrock. For 22 years he was protected by Cowan but Cowan has just been replaced by Jo Wood's son James."

All this seedy Hollywood oiliness -- Ron Wood, Rod Stewart, Steven Segal -- and no mention, surprisingly, of Sylvester Stallone. We kept waiting for the musky Stallone 80s Hollywood sleaze angle to materialize (and leave a greasy residue)-- or at least some creepy, testosteronal appearance by Elie Samaha -- but that never quite happened and, to be frank, its kind of harshing on our mellow.