Because I’m such a DC local now (someone even asked me for directions today! No word on whether they made it to their destination safely, but I’m optimistic…), I read the free little daily newspaper that you pick up on the street. It’s basically a dumbed down, easy-to-digest version of the Washington Post. Today there were some pretty interesting celebrity tidbits, so I thought I’d share those and other pieces of news with you, dear readers:
- Brace yourselves for this first one, folks: Chris Kattan (or Mr. Peepers to you) has filed for separation from his way hotter model wife. They had been married for a staggering eight weeks. In fact, Kathleen posted about the nuptials back in June, and because she is such a wise, wise blogger, she was already skeptical. [People]
- Lady rapper Da Brat was sentenced to three years in prison for — wait for it — smashing a hostess over the head with a bottle of rum last Halloween. Yo ho ho, eh? An intergalactic high five to anyone name a song she sang… [Inside Track]
- So the Olympics are over. Thank goodness we have the DNC to casually watch now so that we don’t have to turn back to watching reruns of The Hills. Kathleen will be reporting live from MY Mile High City, and I’ll be doing world-changing things like going to class and watching the speeches on the teevee. Didn’t love Pelosi’s speech today, and didn’t get to see the Kennedys’ because I was…um…watching Jon & Kate Plus 8.
- The Brits (the English? When I was abroad my English friends got very angry if we called them British) are the new Americans, at least when it comes to drinking heavily in foreign countries and giving your own country a bad name. Great quote from the mayor of Malia, a popular resort town in Greece: “They scream, they sing, they fall down, they take their clothes off, they cross-dress, they vomit.” Sounds like a normal Thursday to me. [New York Times]
- So, this is kind of old news, but Tucker Max is making a movie. Now, I used to be one of those people who thought he was HI-larious and I stalked his website and maybe met him once, sober, at a sketchy bar in downtown Richmond. (And I’m ashamed to admit that not one but TWO of my acquaintances have “known” Mr. Max in a different way. I feel dirty just thinking about that.) Now that I’m a super mature college graduate, though, I’m kind of over the Tucker Max thing. I prefer to make my own embarrassing stories. Anyway, according to several people one set, Tucker is miserable to work with. [Gawker]