Gestation Sensation

In what is truly a measure of the miracles of modern science, everyone's favourite living, breathing wax statue Nicole Kidman is with child. La Kidman, [who in The Golden Compass has proven effectively for once and for all that her acting skills much like Sampson were dependent on her once resplendent mane] and hunky and highlighted hubby Keith [they tried to make me go to rehab and I said great career move]Urban are expecting their first sprog sometime this summer.

Never one to cast aspersions on Hollywood proclivities towards disposable children, but doesn't anyone else feel just a wee bit sad for original adopted kids Connor and Isabella, who have to take a giant step back now that Nicole and Tom are reproducing on their own? Just saying.

As you were....

This Museum Is The Pitts -

- Brad Pitt's. No really, Brad's hometown of Springfield, Missoreh (the new official armPitt of America?) is creating an official shrine to the actor best known for pretending to be not only an architect but also a multi-hued adoptive wannabe local saint.

Susan Wade, head of PR for the town, says, "Springfield is very Midwestern and family oriented. We're glad to have Brad as part of our history and culture. In fact, we need a Brad Pitt Museum."

Did you hear that? That was the sound of the last nail being hammered into the coffin of viable American pop culture.

In related news Angelina Jolie is planning on adopting a town in Missouri and naming it after herself. Not really- but you know she would if she could.

As you were....

Jackson is the new Tyler

As the naming of Poppy Montgomery's new cherub proves, Jackson is the overwhelmingly popular name of choice in the three and under set. New baby Jackson Phillip Kaufman joins the ranks of similarly monikered teeter totter tyrants world-wide.

As you were

Cashmere Mafia- Of Moths And Men

You know how sometimes you're driving blithely along along the highway and from a great distance you see the blinking lights of what appears to be a really bad car wreck? As you get closer you see it's going to be a really big pile-up. You promise yourself you're not going to look. Not even for a minute. And you do. And you're grossed out. And depressed. And you slow down and shake your head in amazement that something so horrible and painful is so incredibly public. And then you're depressed for the rest of the day...

Well, that's the Cashmere Mafia - and it almost makes me wish the writer's strike had started sooner.

No engaging characters. Gotta love the great friends here too- hey! did you know you're husband was cheating on you? Well, we did! and in the spirit of Spice Girls inspired girl power we're going to tell you about it just seconds before you win an award! Because we're girlfriends girlfriend! And even though we're CEOs in FIVE INCH HEELS we have time for lunch and drinks and dinner and gossipy texts. Because we're CEOs. In FIVE INCH HEELS.

Sex and the City was depressing and unrealistic enough, and yet women embraced it as the holy grail of being single. Cashmere Mafia is depressing and unrealistic- but hopeless too - just what you want from your chick shit entertainment. Not. Husband cheating? Well, why not make an impassioned declaration in front of your friends to remain married to the bastard 'cuz you just hate being single. Makes sense to me.

Here's the Cliff Notes version:

Darren Star likes making TV series about women that are really about gay men.
Pat Fields has really hideous taste.
Lucy Liu needs to be force fed a cheeseburger. And some fries.

'Nuff Said.

As you were...