Thursday, December 02, 2004

A Little of the Old In and Out

In: Sex Degrees of Paris Hilton. It's the new game sweeping both coasts. Sure, one could just as easily do a "Sex Degrees of Mick Jagger, (this would probably be particularly effective in the Brazillian telemundo celebrity market, whose gene pool Jagger alabastards with impunity)" or a "Sex Degrees with Rob Lowe," but manwhores like those two aren't as fun. Slabs of beef like that wouldn't even get us publicity. They'd probably just send me emails of congratulatory thanks, signing off with, "thanks, dude."But "Sex Degrees with Paris Hilton," now, "that's hott!"

That has legs to stand on. It's controversial. The Rules of the Game are Simple: You must link someone -- anyone -- in Hollywood to Paris Hilton via some *alleged* sex act, within six ("sex", get it?) plays.

Let's start with Demi Moore, bionic woman. Demi "dated" Leo DiCaprio, *allegedly*, and Leo dated Rosario Dawson, and Rosario dated Colin Farrell ... which brings us back to ... Paris Hilton.

See, it's fun for all the family! Now you play.

Out: Pink. Nuff said.

In: Catherine Zeta-Jones. We always kind of liked that wee Welsh lass with the coal dark eyes *The Corsair shudders* and all that jazz (The Corsair snaps his fingers and oscillates wildly), but now we can affix a definite reason, according to Ananova:


"Brad Pitt says he was shocked by his Ocean's 12 co-star Catherine Zeta Jones, when she drank more alcohol than the male cast.

"Brad says he was delighted when the Welsh beauty was cast as his character Rusty Ryan's love interest Isabel Lahiri in the sequel, and was astounded by her professionalism next to practical jokers Matt Damon and George Clooney.

"He said: 'The great thing about Catherine is there is this great beauty and elegance but at the same time, she'll drink any one of you under the table.'"

Brad, it's no biggie (Averted Gaze), you too would put away a fifth of Beefeater Gin in a single sitting if you had to make babies with Methusalan Prince of Darkness Michael Douglas in order to achieve "stability" and "gifts."

Out: Owen Wilson. Generally we love Owen Wilson, that auteur du cinema with the funny looking nose and deadpan voice, for his no-bullshit way of calling out Hollywood excess, but, to be frank, he's starting to drink the Kool Aid (they all do eventually, alas, except for the incorruptible indie actor Johnny Depp), and his interviews ... eh, they've lost that loving feeling, like this little ditty from Lowdown:

"The life erotic with Owen Wilson: The Texas-born actor, starring in 'The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou,' confides to the upcoming Jane magazine:

"'You can't grow up in Dallas and not have dated a few strippers. It's like the strip-bar capital of the world.'

So far so good ... but, true believer, watch closely as he fucks the whole thing up:

"'I got more into it in college, early 20s. I would say there's still something to be said for a good strip club. But now I try to appreciate the artistry.'"

Artistry ... you mean, like ... Les Demoisseles Davignon? No, Owen (The Corsair shakes his finger at Mssr. Wilson) we think you mean casuistry.

In: Nina Griscom. The Corsair is strangely fascinated by the social rituals that exist on the Upper East Side of New York. Central to that little power nexus of kept women, botox doctors, lap dogs and side entrances for the Jamaican and Filipino "help (Averted Gaze)," stands Nina Griscom, thank you very much, gatekeeper to upwards of York and 86th Street.

NYSocialDiary writes about the opening night party for her new shop 'Nina Griscom':

"A beautiful little corner store with two walls of windows, Ninas got all kinds of chic furniture pieces and accessories that shes picked up here, there and everywhere (she and her boyfriend Leonel Piraino recently returned from a three-week buying trip in India). What with all the adventures of Nina, chronicled here, there and elsewhere, she?s basically a girl who likes to put those refined aesthetic senses of hers to work."


Above: Socialite Griscom, drunk on the distilled blood of one hundred Romanian peasants, gets jiggy with a pal on the "UES".

Out: Jay Z. He's got 99 Problems but Birth Control Aint One? According to one of the readers of's blog (and s/he got it from an unnamed source at model Devin Aoki's brother's party, so you know this is legit), Jay-Z may be a daddy (don't tell Beyonce):

"Girl: You ever watch BET?

"Reader: No I don't. But I'm down with Black entertainment.

"Girl: Well a girl named Free is the host of 106 & Park--BET's answer to TRL--and she is pregnant with Jay-Z's baby.

"Reader: Holy Shit!"

In: Fred Mwangaguhunga, The Corsair's Brother. The Corsair's intrepid baby brother is starting his own business called The Laundry Spa. So, New York media elites -- yeah, The Corsair is talking to you -- this is where you go to get your power suits crisp from now on. Conde Nasties, Hearsties, Viacom types, we know you read this site, this means you.

Fred will have a street team on 3rd Avenue, between 68th and 69th Street handing out 80s candy tomorrow morning in promotion of the venture. Tell them The Corsair sent you.

Out: Kimora Lee Simmons. According to Those Magnificent Page Sixxies:


"Program hosts Jules Asner, Kimora Lee Simmons, Cynthia Garrett and Lynne Koplitz are said to be at each other's throats, with Asner and Simmons especially having their fangs out for one another.

"'Kimora openly calls Jules Miss Twin Set, ' said our source. 'Jules is jealous of the attention Kimora gets. They are both vying for top slots on the show.'"

Give Kimora a piece of your mind on the Life and Style Blog (The Corsair already did).

In: Quincy Delight Jones. Still pimping after all these years ...


Faded, leathery lothario musician Quincy D. Jones wraps his gnarled and jaded claws around the waist of just-passed-the-expiration-date former Playboy Playmate Kimberly Hefner. Why the photographer thought the general public needed to see this little mating ritual unfold is ... quite frankly well beyond our feeble and Armagnac-addled reasoning abilities ...

Out: SONY. Apparently the lawyers at Sony are harassing Blogger Kottke. How fucking lame. Sony lawyers ... get the gasface ...


Anonymous said...

Ron: I'm going to email you the link to my new site....
miss you..../luv Case

(S)wine said...

OOOOOH! THE GAS FACE!!! Ron, that 's one of the best references to 3rd Bass EVER! My good friend, YOU ROCK. What's next? A reference to who "gots the cactus?"

"Russell Simmons got the cactus"