The Awful Truth

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It’s almost like something Lance Armstrong’s longer-lasting blondie chick Sheryl Crow would pen a song about. Turns out even though—as we first reported—Lance’s original hookup with flaxen-haired dude-flirter Kate Hudson may have had less than genuine intentions from the get-go (leggy Lance chooses his mates very carefully, darlings, always with an eye on how they’ll be perceived in public, not just in his pants), the Texan chick changer actually fell for this one, wouldncha know? I mean, that hypothetical Sheryl number could have also ended up being the title song for a movie starring bestest bud Matthew McConaughey, which would have played out with this storyline: Perennial bachelor gets snagged by equally designing honey who never wanted to settle down in the first place. Only problem being, it really happened.

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Adrian Varnedoe, PacificCoastNews.com

Dear Ted:
I think your cynicism is unflattering. There is nothing wrong with a woman wanting to be traditional and take on her husband’s last name. Who cares what Meryl Streep does? Don't be jealous if Eva Longoria Parker has found love for the moment.
  Crystal
  Cincinnati

Dear Mrs. [Husband’s Last Name Here]:
You say “love for the moment” and call me a cynic?

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Jordan Strauss/WireImage.com

Talk about taking your love of high fashion a little too seriously. Kelly Rutherford, who plays hot mom Lily van der Woodsen on Gossip Girl, named her son Hermès Gustaf Daniel Giersch. Word on the goss street, thanks to an eavesdropped convo with the blond babe herself, is l'il 2-year-old Hermès is named after the line of bags Kel adores so much.

Hey, if Matthew McConaughey can christen son Levi after designer denim, we certainly think high-class Hermès is a step up. (Though, we think Prada is a prettier name, personally.)

K.R.’s agent confirmed to us that “Kelly does have an Hermès addiction, but the name has a dual meaning.” A little research in our mythology history books tells us that it ain’t just overpriced posh purses—Hermès is the Greek messenger god, and Ruther-babe’s hub-unit Daniel used to make his living as a mailman.

Just be glad he didn’t use to be a sailor, or the poor kid’s moniker might be Poseidon.

Lisa O'Connor/ZUMA Press, Nancy Kaszerman/ZUMA Press, Gregg DeGuire/WireImage.com, Dimitrios Kambouris/WireImage.com

Dear Ted:
Why the big, freaking fuss over Angelina Jolie? She's gorgeous, no doubt, but the femme is an unstable homewrecker. Something just doesn't ring right with this broad. I'm not Jen, just someone who thinks Aniston deserves far better than she has had with the men in her life.
Nikki
Columbus, Ohio

Dear Angied-Out:
Hollywood doesn’t discriminate based on morals or sanity, love. But John Mayer just may be helping you out here, no worries.

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Jean-Paul Aussenard/WireImage.com

While Jimmy Franco betters himself (the guy just got himself a UCLA diploma), Scott Baio continues to barter his asshole personality. S.B. just hit Hell-Ay’s Mauro’s restaurant, where the reality wannabe certainly was doing more than chewing and chitchatting. Had a sit-down with some film types, including horror meister George Romero’s son Cameron, himself a budding director. Cam’s done the scary stuff before, just like his pops, but this time he’s shopping around The Loon, a romantic comedy with a Birdcage-type twist, and he possibly has a part in mind for skinny, procreating Scottie. Baio-babe would have a scattering of scenes where he shows off a manlier side we haven’t seen since his Chachi days, in case you’re interested. But a Birdcage twist, huh? Does that mean there are a couple of gay dudes pretending to be straight for the sake of comedy? Can’t think of anything more horrifying. Actually, dunno if this is the role that’ll score Scotty B. a sweet comeback, à la Neil Patrick Harris. Who woulda thought NPH could return to public consciousness by first playing a sexed up version of himself in a stoner flick (Harold and Kumar), scoring a supporting part on a sitcom and then coming out of the closet? None of those are obvious choices for a full-career recovery, but it seems to have worked out well for the former teenage, TV doc. So there’s hope for Baio yet, we’re sorry to admit.

Eric Charbonneau/WireImage.com

James Franco was the quasi-beefy man o’ the night fer sure over at the Pineapple Express premiere, last week. UCLA students—girls and guys alike, very horny coeds—were lined up outside the Mann Village, all screaming “James Franco, I love you!” like they had an inkling of a chance of scoring some face time with the dude. Actually, they prolly already had—Jame-babe recently graduated from the Bruin school a few weeks ago. Ya think they woulda taken up the chance to score a convo with him on campus instead of screaming across the street, no? We asked the dude with the nice kisser why back to school? “I was not very happy with a lot of movies I was doing, and I needed something else to fill up my time,” fessed J.F. about his choice to higher educate himself.

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Lauren Conrad showed up to the Teen Choice Awards, as if she isn't already acting pimple-ready, as it is. Nevertheless, she gave us some oily dirt on next season, since we know all you obsessive Hills junkies can't stand to wait until then, anyway. "There's a lot of drama, a lot of new boys this season, which is fun." Get lucky in lust with any nice or not nice guys, Laur? "I kiss a boy. I don't know if he's nice." Yum, that's the sleazy ticket. You go, girlfriend, talkin' smack about the men you've snogged before the season even starts? We like this gal's guts. Seriously, tho, any guy's gotta be better for Con-babe than Brody or Jason.

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Steve Granitz/WireImage.com

Our garish ‘n’ glossy new look here at the A.T. has got us feelin’ refreshed and way youthful—sans Botox, we swear—so we decided to check out the Teen Choice Awards at the Universal Gibson Amphitheatre. “Hot!” exclaimed pretty-in-pink (and just about everything else) Hayden Panettiere, when we asked how she was feeling. The (global) temperature was def the first thing on everyone’s minds, except maybe the Jonas Brothers. Lucky li'l lady Meaghan Martin worked with the three mop-topped male sibs in their hit family flick, Camp Rock, and had nothing but wonderful words to tell us—we’re just happy she didn’t scream about them like most Jo-Bro fanatics we run into do. “I love them! I heard some people say they have egos, which is ridiculous. They are the most down-to-earth, humble, sweet guys I’ve ever worked with.” Don’t let new Miley-to-be Disney kid Selena Gomez hear your sweet swooning over rumored BF Nick Jonas—tho S.G. had better get used to her boyfriend’s undying attention in every teen’s dreams.

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Vicky costar Chris Messina dished to us at the premiere about the lip-licious ScarJo-Penélope Cruz hookup that’s heating up the goss-geist so much right now. “There is a steamy scene, but there’s a lot of steam all over the movie. So that’s just one kernel of steam,” C.M. winked. Woody Allen made a whole movie called Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex* But Were Afraid to Ask, remember, so we know he isn't scared of exposing some sexy merde onscreen. However, it sure looks like Wood-hon’s caught onto this lesbian-chic thing currently thriving in H'wood, and he’s smart enough to steal some of this sapphic style for press. Messina disagreed: “I think Woody Allen’s past all that,” he retorted. “I think it’s a love story about a bunch of people in search of something, so in that moment, those two women are just in search of something.” It’s called an orgasm. You can say it, Chrissy.

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Kevin Winter/Getty Images

We checked out the Vicky Cristina Barcelona premiere in Westwood, but we were really there to check out the big-packaged stud of the hour, Javier Bardem. J.B., in a dapper, trim dark suit, had an entire male fan section screaming, “Jav-i-er! Jav-i-er!” All boys begging for an autograph—or more, one assumes. And those were just the men, girlfriends. The Spanish looker surely scored a totally new demo of fans, what with his psycho No Country killer smile. Still, Jav-babe was all aflutter in front of the photos, running away from all the attention.

“This is insane! It’s insane!” he squealed, like a little niño. Welcome to Hell-Ay, dude...and the rest of your life. Now ya know a fraction of what Britney feels. Scary, ain’t it?

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ZumaPress.com

Our Desk Ef-Hell-Ay rang us up with a literal run-in he had with tennis doll Anna Kournikova. The blond babe was food shopping at Publix on the Bay (such a glam grocery name, more so than Ralphs or Vons, n'est-ce pas?) when Ms. K smacked her cart right into our supermarket source. An embarrassed Annie apologized—though who could stay mad at a gorgeous gal like that? Her face was finessed with full makeup, while the rest of her bod was relaxed in baggy gym sweats and a large sweatshirt. Too large...A.K. surely didn’t purchase it with her fit frame in mind. We have an inkling its original owner must be none other than Enrique Iglesias, her alleged ex...husband? Boyfriend? These two are more mum on their relaysh than Sam and Linds.

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The hair changes, the highlights go; then they come back, only to be buzzed again, we’re sure, but the gossip is always the greatest tease of all, and we here at the Awful Truth are rededicating ourselves to bringing you the best big-hair bitchery on all things Tinseltown and beyond—particularly if it involves hot sex, great scoop, bad haircuts, lumpy looks and jerks who speak out of both sides of their big asses. It’s a stinky job, sure, but somebody’s gotta do it. So by all means, read on!