Russian Mafia Threatens to Kidnap Madonna

The roll-call of people who are pissed off at Madonna for her blasphemous stage show, which features the menopausal singer "crucifying" herself on a giant bathroom-tile cross, now includes the Russian Mafia. And the Russian Mafia doesn't just denounce people the way the Vatican does; it threatens them. With kidnapping. And you definitely don't want to be kidnapped by the Russian Mafia. Take it from me. It's no picnic being kidnapped by the those guys.

Yes, it's true, I was once abducted by the Russian Mafia. Back in the early nineties when I was still running my dog-grooming business. A couple of Russian gangsters came into my shop, tied me up and dragged me off. It was terrible. That awful smell of aftershave, vodka-breath and old sneakers. Them playing Yakov Smirnoff videos over and over until I wanted to freaking kill myself. Thankfully I was only held for a couple of days; back then the Russian Mafia accepted toilet paper as ransom payment, so my good pal Vernon just showed up with a van full of Charmin and they let me go. I can only imagine how much Charmin it would take for Guy Ritchie to get Madonna back from the clutches of Russian gangsters now, what with inflation and all. He'd probably have to buy several of those giant packs from Costco.

So, if I were Madonna, I would be taking these threats very seriously. I would be adding more security. And just to be on the safe side, I might consider taking the crucifixion thing out of my stage-show. I mean, seriously Madonna, what point do you think you're making? "Ooh, look at me, I'm Madonna. I'm hanging myself from a cross. Aren't I being daring and sacrilegious?" Okay Madonna, we get it, you grew up a Catholic and it scarred you, and now you're getting back at all the nuns who cracked your knuckles with rulers. How much longer does this have to go on? When will you be satisfied? When the pope personally apologizes? Give it a rest, you old bag. You're not some new pop-music Messiah. You're a no-talent who got lucky and now doesn't have the sense to exit gracefully. Are you going to stick around until your tits are hanging below your knees? Is that how you want people to remember you?

Sad.

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Scarlett Johansson v. Andrew Lloyd Webber

It's official - Scarlett Johansson and Andrew Lloyd Webber are feuding. Round one between the buxom starlet and the musical-theater god took place several months ago, when Webber accused Johansson of backing out of his West End production of The Sound of Music because her handlers were unimpressed with the money being offered. Now Johansson has kicked off round two by firing a left-hook right at Webber's jaw (don't you just love my pugilistic metaphors?), claiming she couldn't have backed out of the production because she never agreed to do it in the first place, and going on to accuse Webber of throwing her name around for the sole purpose of promoting his new competition show, How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria?, which will give a group of unknowns a chance to win the role Johansson herself turned down. Cattiness.

I stand second-to-none in my love for Andrew Lloyd Webber (Cats is better than anything that old drunk Shakespeare ever dreamed up in my humble opinion), but I have to admit, Scarlett Johansson is starting to win me over to her side in this. It does begin to look like Webber brought Scarlett's name into the whole thing just to help him sell his show. Gosh, I hope Scarlett doesn't do anything rash like sic Josh Hartnett on Webber. Or even worse, what if Scarlett herself went after him? That chick seems a little psycho to me; she'd be liable to stick Webber with a pen-knife or something. Damn.

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Jared Leto Has Gout. So If You Had Gonorrhea in the "What Disease Will Jared Leto Get Next" Pool, You Lose.

Well, it was bound to happen - you knew with all the mania for gaining and losing weight among Oscar-hungry actors that sooner or later one of them would pay the price. Well, sooner or later has come, and the one who's paying the price is Jared Leto. Yes, Jared Leto. The young validation-starved heartthrob put on 62 pounds to play Mark David Chapman in a flick (I had no idea Mark David Chapman was that heavy), then had to lose the fat fast for another role, and all the yo-yoing between weights caused Leto to develop a case of gout. Yes, gout. The disease you thought only your old alcoholic uncle had. Apparently rapid weight-gain can cause the painful joint condition, which puts actors smack in the middle of the high-risk zone. Of course, news of Leto's affliction will do nothing to deter future wannabe award-winners from grasping desperately for attention proving their dedication to their craft by physically transforming themselves. What's a little case of gout when Oscar glory is on the line (not to mention the big bump in pay that results from winning)? Hell, I bet there are actors out there who'd gladly be injected with ebola or bubonic plague for the chance to grab an award. Tom Cruise would probably have a limb chopped off if he thought it would help (of course Cruise could then use his Scientology powers to grow the limb back).

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Kelly Clarkson - Liquored Up Ho?

Kelly Clarkson has apparently decided to shed her good-girl image entirely and become yet another Lohan-like party-skank. According to witnesses, Ms. Clarkson, the original American Idol winner, showed up at the Key Club in Hollywood the other night, where some kind of awful '80s-retro rock band called Metal Skool was playing (they do know "school" isn't spelled like that right?). The witnesses reported that Ms. Clarkson got herself wasted on liquor, climbed up on stage waving a bottle around, ripped her vest off and tossed it into the crowd, then proceeded to air guitar her way through the evening.

The question then is this: Does Clarkson's image become edgier for this kind of behavior, or does a band like Metal Skool become unaccountably lame for being seen with Kelly Clarkson? And does anyone out there have any pictures of this event, cause I'd really like to add them to my Kelly Clarkson scrapbook.

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Do I Really Wanna Hurt You? Actually, Yes.

Contrary to popular belief, I did not have a fling with Boy George back in the eighties. Boy George was a heroin addict back then, and I always had a strict policy against sleeping with heroin addicts. Plus I thought he was a wanker. And that cross-dressing Japanese Rastafarian look wasn't doing anything for me either. Now he's going around with what looks like a Star-of-David shaved into the top of his dome. What the hell's that about? Maybe he thinks he's being daring and subversive.

By the way, sweeping streets for community service is not fun. I had to do that one time after a run-in with some Hasidic guys over in Brooklyn (okay, I admit, I was bombed out of my mind). No less than three old flings came by to throw garbage in my path, then take pictures while I swept it up. It was humiliating. But I did learn my lesson about getting wasted and shouting insults at Hasidic guys. Much like doing tequila shots with Mel Gibson, it may look like fun at first, but afterword you'll regret it.

Hey Mel. Fido Wants His Dish Back.

Just when you thought stories of Mel Gibson's antics couldn't get any stranger, along comes National Enquirer poo-flinger Mike Walker's report on a Malibu party the Jew-hating nutbag attended only days before his now-famous meltdown. According to Walker's sources (which could be the voices in his own head for all we know), Gibson, in an advanced state of inebriation (obviously), decided it would be a hilarious idea to dump the water out of a dog-dish, fill it with booze, then drink said booze out of said dog-dish, lapping it up with his tongue like a parched pooch - all in front of the other partygoers, who of course were shocked. An even-more-intoxicated Gibson then proceeded to prowl the pool area out back, flirting and pinching asses. The ass-grabbery got bad enough that one female partier even took the step of sending a letter to Gibson's people demanding an apology.

I have to say, even back in my drunken Studio 54 days, I never did anything as crazy as drink booze out of a dog-dish. I snorted coke off of Janice Dickinson's ass once, but that was only after Geraldo Rivera dared me. And of course she had a nice smooth ass then. Nothing like now.

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Madonna Can't Sleep

If Madonna is looking unusually wrung-out these days, then there's a good reason for it. It seems builders in The Immaterial Girl's London neighborhood have been making a lot of noise lately, preventing her from getting enough shut-eye, and the strain is beginning to show up in her performances.

At one of her recent Wembley Stadium shows, the middle-aged slag had to take a seat in the middle of one of her cheesy sacrilegious numbers, saying, "I only got three hours sleep last night because I have got construction work going on in stereo at my house. This morning I was so tired I thought: 'F**k, I can't do my show.' But I'm getting lots of energy from the smiles on your faces."

Gee Madonna, you sure it's the lack of sleep that's causing you to feel run-down? You sure it isn't menopause? Or maybe divine retribution for all the blasphemy you've been splashing around lately? Or maybe it's just your old, worn-out body telling you it's time to stop traipsing around like a coked-up twenty-year-old and act your age. Just a thought.

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